#im so full of energy that i shake w excitement

[tojirights]

Honestly think you're one of the best writers for Alastor in this fandom! Your stuff is always brilliant and the characterisation is perfect!

Had the idea last night: Alastor and reader going multiple rounds, and reader still wanting more and being full of energy but Alastor being absolutely out of it and completely shattered, so he uses his tentacles instead, because what kind of gentleman keeps his lady wanting?

Just an excuse to request tentacle sex with everyone's favourite "deer".

a/n: im gonna be so real with you, im not really sure if the tentacles are like, real apendages or if they're part of his shadow soooo i wrote them as the latter. hope it makes sense!! thank you love :') y'all are too nice 🩷

if there was one thing you weren’t expecting to still have in hell, it was your damn hormonal cycle. you didn’t necessarily have a period, but by god, you swore you still ovulated. it felt even worse than before, the primal need threatened to burn a hole through you. you always felt like a bother to alastor during this week of the month, begging and pleading for him to fuck you for hours. but, alastor never turned you away.

today though, you were especially needy. alastor had already made you cum a handful of times and had cum twice himself. he was exhausted. yet, there you were at the edge of his bed, eyes still filled with lust. “my goodess…” alastor chuckles, shaking his head. “i’m not sure i have much left in the tank, darling.” he cups your cheek, watching tears well up in your eyes. “i-i’m sorry-” he shushes you before you can continue. “did i say anything about stopping? i’d never dream of leaving my lady hanging when she needs me.”

“but…” you frown, watching alastor’s smile turn to smirk. “i have a few tricks up my sleeve, my dear. lay back.” your eyes widen as there’s a flash of green light, followed by five tentacle-like appendages sprout from alastor’s back. “w-what?” adrenaline surges through you as well as a mix of excitement and nerves. “you’re gonna… use those?” you gulp, watching the tentacles slither towards you. “why of course!” alastor snickers, seeing your apprehension. “don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours." he coos, watching with hungry yet tired eyes.

the shadow apendages wrap around your thighs, cold to the touch but not unpleasant. as they slowly spread your legs, another slides between them. it's almost embarrassing the way your legs shake with anticipation, the cool tip of the tentacles swiping up your slit. "o-oh, that's..." you sigh in relief when you're suddenly being filled. "how's that darling?" alastor hums, watching as you open wider around him. "that's... oh god alastor..." you pant, every slow thrust of his tentacle-like shadow making your head dizzy.

the foreign feeling of being stretched so wide has you already teetering on the edge. without warning, alastor curls the apendage while picking up pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. "gonna-" you mewl, hips arching off the bed with every thrust. "k-keep going please. 'm gonna cum." every whine makes alastor almost wish his cock was back inside of you, knowing just how hard you're clamping down on his shadow.

but the sight of you writhing, gripping the sheets like you're life depended on it was something he's grateful to be seeing from afar. the buildup to your orgasm comes strong, the coil in your stomach snapping from the tension and- "oooh, you really liked that, hm?" alastor's voice is heavy with arousal, pulling you back to reality after cumming. your vision slowly returns, heavy breathing filling your ears. you barely register the soaking mess you've made on the bed. "oh my god. did i..?" your face goes red, embarrasmemt setting in once again. "yes, my sweet. you did, and made quite the mess for us to clean up."

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel smut #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #alastor x you smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #alastor imagines #hazbin alastor smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor x reader

[z0mb13-b0y]

RE2 Leon x Goth M!Reader ☆

⚠️: alcohol use

TW: none (I dont believe)

It was just your typical routine, you went out to one of your favourite shops to grab something before leaving yet unfortunantly you bump into someone, dropping your bag..

He looked up at you immediately and started profusely apologising whilest picking up your things off the ground, honestly at that point you were just a little shocked you weren't yelled at to 'watch it'.. "Im really sorry, I didn't see where I was going.." he mumbled, picking up your things and giving them to you, but before he did he looked right at you and his cheeks lightly glowed red, "Woah your make ups really cool!" He cut himself off, smiling.

You chuckle lightly, finally getting a chance to respond.. "Its fine and thank you- uhh" you didn't know his name regrettably, "Leon" he smiled at you, putting his hand out.. "Leon Kennedy" his smile somehow managed to grow wider, "Im Y/N.." you smile back at him, shaking his hand. After you both dropped your hands he speaks up, "Y/N's a pretty name.. but I wasn't lying about your make up can you do it on me?!" He was like a puppy almost, just so full of energy and so excited you could've sworn you saw a tail wagging behind him.. "Im a bit busy today but I can give you my number?" You smile at him softly, getting a sticky note from your bag and writing your number on it and a little bat drawing next to it.. he couldn't stop smiling and took the paper, putting it into his pocket.

"Thank you so much, you're really cool.." he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly whilest kicking the ground, "Thank you, but I really do need to head off" you chuckle in response, "Im free Saturday." You tell him before walking off and waving goodbye. He kept standing there like an excited puppy, just smiling hard until you were out of his view so he could make his way to where ever he was headed.

Friday.

It was Friday, a day before your next encounter with 'Leon'. You managed to rub the sleep from your eyes since it was around 3am before getting a notification on your phone.. It was a new number and all it wrote was, "Hey its Leon, sorry for the late message:'C Is this Y/N?" 'He uses emoticons? Thats cute' you thought to yourself before replying to him saying that it was fine and that yeah its you.

You kept messaging for awhile just talking about the new remake of the game Evil Residence, you were always a big fan of the originals and turns out so was he. You never thought you'd get on so well with a man you bumped into on the street.. but you could definitely say you were gonna enjoy hanging out with him tomorrow. You found out he was a rookie cop and it was his first day TODAY even though it was already 5 in the morning, you laughed at him and told him to sleep for the next hour just so he can have some sort of energy.. 'Actually texting you has made me pretty hyper so im okay(^w^)'... you re-read the message a few times wondering how to respond, 'doesn't matter! You still need your beauty sleep.' You argued, chuckling on your bed.. 'Finee(╥﹏╥) I'll see you tomorrow:D' he finally agreed, so you both went to bed. You laid there awhile just thinking of tomorrow, smiling to yourself and giggling.. you both kept messaging through out the day when he was on break or just taking a sneaky peek at his phone to see if you'd messaged him, which you always were. You could confidently say you were excited to hang out with him tomorrow, including the other things you both wanted to do.

Saturday.

You both accidently did it again, staying up until 6am calling and messaging.. you agreed he'd come over at 11am with the drinks, you both decided that having a few drinks together and watching a movie would be great.

11:12 am

There's a knock on the door, you already know who it is, you run over to the door and open it, a smile already plastered on you're face. "12 minutes late" you chuckle, staring down Leon sarcastically, "Oh come on, I had to get the very specific whiskey you wanted.. its hard to find!" He laughed at you, holding 2 bottles of Diageo Whiskey whilest you had already stocked up on 3 bottles of Coke. "Diego or whatever it is wasn't easy to find.." he mumbled, walking inside your apartment, you laugh at him before correcting him about the name, "Its Diageo not 'Diego'". After coming in, pouring yourselves a nice mix of Whiskey and Coke you both finally sat down and agreed to watch *Halloween*, Rob Zombies specifically since Leon argued it was the best one, "I love the Halloween movies.." he whispers smiling at the TV, as the day went on and you continued watching more of the Halloween movies before you knew it it was already 9pm, and you both had downed a bottle of the whiskey with only 1 remainder not to mention drunk.. Leon was on the verge of passing put while you were enjoying the movie, you felt a weight shift onto your shoulder.. it was Leon, and he was out cold. You chuckle to yourself quietly before wrapping your arm around him and bringing him in closer.

The movie finished and Leon was still out like a light, you sigh and gently get up.. laying him on the couch and grabbing one of the square pillows and putting it under his head aswell as a spare blanket. You give yourself a quick pat on the back for helping this drunk get more comfortable.

You start to walk off with the idea of heading to bed and checking up on him in the morning.. that was before you felt someone grab your wrist. Leon was still half asleep, mumbling.. "dont.. dont go." His eyes were still shut, and maybe it was the alcohol that made you stay.. you stood there for a few seconds before he pulled you onto the couch with him.. almost immediately wrapping his arms and legs around you with his head digging into your chest.. "Leon?" You whisper, in hopes to not disturb him much.. he grumbled in response, "Do you want me to stay?" You ask again, your eyes drooping due to the long night behind you, he shook his head on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and laid for awhile before finally falling asleep, with Leon in your arms..

DONE!! IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR NOT UPLOADING OMFG. I MIGHT MAKE A PART 2 IF ITS HIGHLY DEMANDED LMAO:3

#m!reader #x male reader #gay #leon x m!reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy #re2r leon #re2 remake

[tflaw]

thoma is just so dreamy fr but PLS i have this clip of me recorded while climbing a tree for shits n giggles thinking "hmm will he follow me up here" AND HE ACTUALLY DID i was so scared shitless he straight up teleported behind the traveler 😭 my body took a screenshot n i swore to never do it again :')) but other than that i had a reaaally good time w this part of the event hehe thoma just makes everything better <33

+ naauurr im pretty sure they make duels harder as u go thru nations !! im excited for sumeruuu omg once u get to rank 7 u can get to play w cyno ADNSJ i have one letter invitation saved for him i want to play w him rlly rlly bad .. and hmm when it comes to strategies ngl im just bad at it as well 😭 though i find myself setting the card w the most energy requirement as my active card the first time !! so i can have the burst ready at a good time aaand i usually attack a lot the first round since it's where most cards dont have energy to do bursts yet and probably oneshot u 💀 but it depends on what cards im against w anyways !! reading some details abt opponent cards r very helpful to me so i can see what's coming :')

+ oh fr the more i farm, the more i just get convinced that it's true 😀 i pretty took a break from farming artifacts as well just farmed leylines </33 i needed character exp as well as mora so no artifacts for now since i get shit anyways .. and naur 11-3 has me fighting for my life on both halves ava i was shaking crying w that abyss lector :')) when they get their shield up i just want to cry !! im this close to making nahida a healer now hrmhmr if only thoma isnt sooo energy greedy smh id replace her favonius codex any day .. and LMAO thoma's shield mechanic is rlly fun but since u mentioned using scara's charged atk more .. u better stick w layla bc his shield only stacks w autos 💔 i might build a full shield thoma for yoimiya too i think it'll be good !! i just want to spoil him

+ manifesting that energy for my raiden pulls and ur hu tao !! we just have to believe that our luck would pull thru this banner pls WE DONT TAKE Ls OKAY ??!! and omg i just realized that there r a few days left before raiden and i am .. not ready at all </3 bro has 10 pulls saved but fuck it we ball and i .. might buy welkin too im crying i didnt think this day would come that i will actually consider it 💔 entering my whale era /hj but AAAA im getting nervous omg i hope i win another 50/50 i might start believing in god /j

HE REALLY IS DREAMY i wanna wife him up 😔🙏 pls the new event is kinda spooky ngl but i’m too impatient w all the automatic walking going on <//3 i just go straight to find the items while listening to the characters babble 😭

+ OMG SPEAKING OF i fought cyno today and i fr thought i was gonna lose pls my heart is beating out of my chest . the nre card saved me 😭 he was like “don’t get so cocky” after defeating bennett AND I WAS LIKE OOH WHAT DID HE SAY WHAT DID HE SAY i was so pumped up i didn’t get to screenshot :((

+ oh yeah and i’m halfway there improving layla so i might stick w her since cryo gives crit rate,, i just need more cons LMAO when will my support be included in a banner that i actually would pull for pls it’s an unending dilemma >:(( i only have xq and xiangling at c6 and seeing the potential of kuni + faruzan i wanna keep pulling on his banner for faruzan cons <//3 but i need to save up for hu tao, too <//3

+ after 12-1 i quit the abyss AGSSH and then i’d have this sudden bouts of inspiration to level up all my dps/supports with my 2 resins <//3 so i’m rly focusing on talents. at least i can get guaranteed materials for my teams from talent domains 😭

+ PLS i feel like i’ll lose my 50/50… so i have to save enough fates for when that happens. i’ll prioritize homa first and see if i can get hu tao <//3 even w welkin i feel like i won’t save enough fates AGJSHS but lantern rite, abyss, new codes, and shop reset gives me hope !! there is hope . i can see it. but i have 2 say good bye to dehya <//3 i need shenhe for ayaka too PLS im gonna go insane

#xoxo: ai. #✉️: hotmail.

[xtisumi]

One year ago, I had my first interaction with you. Sorry for not talking to you sooner when u first joined ik am bad friend hehe 😅 like it’s crazy one year ago u didn’t even know my name nor that I existed but anyways I don’t wanna make this a sappy message so I just wanna thank you for being my friend and also I’m rly happy I was able to meet u in my lifetime ^~^ the friendship I was able to make with u in one year time will be something I cherish forever that’s a promise! Wanted to make this short xD but I just wanna let u know that I’m doing amazing! I’m rly happy and managed to turn my life upside, I’m still drinking a gallon of water a day and cooking meals to better my lifestyle. I started training rly hard and it’s helped with my anxiety. I’m still lazy w school but I’ll work on it I promise :p I’m still a dumbass 😅 I sometimes forget to take out the chicken so I don’t have time to defrost it and I can’t make dinner lmao I’m still peeing a lot from the water, Pmoney thinks I have diabetes or something lmao. What else what else oh I took my best friend in the whole world out for his 21st :3 I took him to eat and later we picked up friends and got together and talked GOD I needed that sm dude like holy shit I fr managed to always make amazing friends and talking to them helped remind me that every friend I’ve made and still talk is just amazing in their own way but AHHHHH I was just rly happy to treat my bff to something since I missed his bday the past two years :( we went to Dairy Queen too and I got him a blizzard and it was just the warmest feeling handing it to him and just being happy, I rly rly rly needed that :’( plus u probs wont get the reference but my friendship w him is literally like killua and gon friendship from HxH like I’m Gon just so pure and innocent and he’s Killua just acts tough but around me he softens up god I love him sm dude he fr like a brother to me man. Also I’m rly addicted to Destiny 2 like fml I’m a mess when it comes to video game addictions lmao I still watch anime obvi xD still watching HxH it’s rly good :O I’m so energetic now it’s crazy like I can just bounce of walls and I’m rly excited about my life dude OH I FORGOT logic album is coming out soon holy shit I’m HYPED also Lil Wayne is apparently dropping The Carter V tomorrow u know I have to throw it back to my 5th grade self lmao. Last thing is even though everything is going great I’m still learning and I’m still trying my best to be happy with who I am, Lena helped me realized how much I put on myself and how I tried to carry everything at once so some things r still hard to overcome but DONT WORRY IM FUCKING TRYING MY BEST BECAUSE I WANNA BE ABLE TO BE HAPPY WITH THE PERSON I BECOME AND I WANNA BECOME NOT ONLY A DETECTIVE BUT SOMEONE THAT PEOPLE LOOK UP TO I THOUGHT I JUST WANTED TO BE A DETECTIVE BECAUSE IT FELT RIGHT BUT I OPENED MY EYES TO FIND OUT THAT IM MORE THAN THAT AND I WOULD LIKE TO HELP PEOPLE AND ILL TRY MY BEST TO BE THE BEST POLICE OFFICER AND HUMAN BEING THAT I CAN BE. I’m only 20 years old and there’s lots of stuff that I still need to learn to help me grow as a person. Anyways sorry for distancing myself but I realized it rly was the best for me to focus on myself and now I’m rly rly rly happy with myself and I’ll continue to train and work hard on myself hehehehe id say I’m strong enough to take on ur lil brother now LMFAO thank you for everything dude and hopefully u haven’t forgotten about me cause this message would be awkward lol dude no matter what I’ll always love u and appreciate u *imagine the scene where itachi says his final farewell to sasuke* lmao I’m still a weeb :( guess I’ll work on that next 😅 I’m really glad I was able to get to know you @aoutd

#im so full of energy that i shake w excitement #or maybe its because my room is always freezing. #LMFAO #i deadass almost forgot to tag u #i rly am a dumbass and that wont ever change :(

[books-and-catears]

Hihihiiiii!!!!! Omg I'm so excited to ask this one-> ok so can you write/headcanon the Brothers and Undatables in a situation where MC can't swim and the brothers + undatables don't know it until one of the squad (Solomon's voodoo) picks MC up and throws them into a pool/fountain on the deep end as a joke? And MC drowns?

Bonus if anyone aside from Satan, Leviathan, and Lucifer know CPR and double bonus if Beel manages to rebibe w/o cracking a rib on MC!!

Aww heyheyhey!!! We love excitement in this house yes we do. Thank you so much for the angsty ask!

It got a bit long so I'll do it in two parts! I hope that's okay? Also I hope I can do it justice :3

It was a summer afternoon in Devildom. Diavolo had invited the whole gang upto his castle. Solomon had recently told him about pool parties and he was excited to try it out.

Everyone came in, already having the time of their lives splish splashing in the water, or going ham on Barbatos and Luke's snacks.

You were there, dipping your feet in water, enjoying the cool feeling between your toes. Everyone kept inviting you in the water, you tried to put them off by saying "Maybe later!"

You could have just said you couldn't swim. But that was too embarassing to admit, so you just shook your head and splashed water at them instead.

Mammon and Asmo were splashing water on you, so you didn't see the Little D's sneak up and hoist you up from behind. Before you knew it, you were sent flying headfirst into the water. Maybe you should have told them, you thought.

Maybe that would be better than the endless blue, the distinct lack of air and burn in your lungs as you tried hard to swim to the surface and lost all energy.

(Part 1: The Brothers)

Lucifer

"MC enough playing around. Come Bach up now." Got tensed when you didn't Immediately float up to the surface.

"MC?" He dived in to check on you. His eyes grew wide when you saw struggling, flapping your hands and feet aimlessly.

"MC HOLD ON!" The panic in his voice was muffled by the water. You felt your body being held and pulled up to the surface.

"MC? MC can you hear me?! MC!" You felt someone shaking you, their hands warm on your arms. And then your lips turned warm.

You'd recognise that kiss anywhere. It was more urgent this time, as Lucifer tried his best to get air into you.

"Luci... fer.." You choke out before coughing violently and spitting the pool water everywhere.

"You're okay..." He lets out the biggest sigh of relief. He holds you tight in his arms and takes you inside to dry you off. "I thought I lost you again..."

"Whoever is responsible for this," The suppressed rage in his voice sounded deadly, "will pay for it."

Mammon

"Oi human! Are ya sulking down there?!" Mammon joked as he dived downwards to bring you up.

"They got ya pretty good huh-" He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the state you were in. Your eyes closed and your limbs horribly limp.

"MC! MC WHAT HAPPENED?!" Mammon grabbed you and pulled you up instantly. Even in your dazed state, you could feel the pounding of his heart and the cracking of his voice.

"MC not again please not again I'm sorry I'm sorry please wake up..." He was crying now. His tears and hands were warm on your skin as pushed at your chest cluelessly.

"THEY'RE NOT WAKING UP! LUCIFER SATAN DIAVOLO SIMEON SOMEONE HELP PLEASE!" He was frantic and clamping his mouth on yours now, gasping more than blowing air.

You coughed and sputtered eventually. "Mammon... you...are exceptionally bad at CPR." Mammon hid his face in your shoulder and hugged you like there's no tomorrow.

You laugh and try to tell him you're okay but all he does is hold you and cry. "I'm the worst protector...I'm so sorry MC.."

Leviathan

"Welcome to my turf, MC!" Levi laughed as he waited for you to float back up. But you weren't. Are you stuck on something? He sees air bubbles on the surface.

He dives down and swims towards you swiftly. "MC OH NO! WAIT MC IM COMING!" He darts to towards you and gets you out the fastest.

He starts to tear up and panic cause this is just like that sad anime "Lost my Best Friend in the Deep". Embarassment be damned, he can't let you go.

He urgently called for his brothers for help and fumbled with you held tightly in his arms. He pushed on your chest and watched the water sputter out.

"MC?? You're okay now, right??! MC!!?" The urgency in Levi's voice caught you off guard. You open your eyes to see him teary eyed and sniffling.

"I'm okay Levi..." You say, your hand reaching to hold his face. He breaks down at your touch.

Pressing his face harder into your hand and crying. He's so glad you're okay. "I thought I lost my best friend...don't worry MC, I'll teach you how to swim!"

Satan

"MC, you do know how to swim right?" Satan called out to you, right after the splash. There was something about the way you fell that made him feel uneasy.

When you didn't float back up, he immediately dunked himself downwards, only to see his suspicions were right.

"MC! It's okay it's okay I've got you!" Satan's arm wrapped around you as he pressed a warm kiss on you under water. The flames in your lungs died down a little.

He rushes you upto the surface and lays down gently, tilting your head at the optimal angle.

His mouth is on you again. Urgently breathing life back into you. He also had spells ready in case this usual way didn't work.

"Satan...? You...thank you.." You said tired as you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him weakly after vehemently coughing.

He lets out a sigh of relief and bumps his lips against your head softly, cradling you in his arms. "Why wouldn't you say that you couldn't swim? Don't do this to me ever again, MC, you're all I have..."

Asmodeus

"MC darling, no need to be embarrassed, you looked so cute when you fell like that! Come up now!" Asmo giggled as he watched the water, waiting for you to come back up.

He gets panicky when you're still not up yet. Swims down as he quickly as he can calling out your name. "OH NO! MC WHAT'S GOING ON?! MC!"

He reaches for your hands and starts tugging you towards him. Why are your eyes closed like this? Why have you gone limp?!

He pulls you up to the surface, frantically calling out to Satan and Solomon for help, all the while bouncing you in his arms like a baby as a attempt to gain conciousness.

He's full on sobbing as he Solomon gives you CPR. The moment you cough and sputter, he pounces on you, his head pressed against your cold chest, now rising and falling normally.

"Asmo... don't cry...I'm okay.." You say weakly smiling and trying to hug him back, running your hands in his hair.

He holds you close and presses kisses on your whole face."MC! You gave me such a fright! Don't do that again please, MC! I can't bear the though of you gone again!"

Beelzebub

"Ah I'm so sorry I couldn't catch you MC" Beel even had his arms outstretched so he could catch you before you fell, but he missed.

He's fastest to get to you after Levi. "MC? Are you okay down there- MC?! Why are you being like that?!" He gets frantic and scoops your limp body in his arms.

This is his worst nightmare. He urgently gets to the surface panicking inside. "MC..please wake up.." He calls out sadly, as he gently lays you down.

You're barely breathing. He knows what he has to do. But you're so fragile compared to him he doesn't want to hurt you.

He tries as gently as possible to push against your chest to regulate your breathing again.

"Beel..Beel..." You cough out his name as you reach up to hold his face in your hands. He stops immediately and engulfs you in a hug.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. His teary eyes and tight grip as he lifts you up and takes you inside the house to feed you, says everything you need to know.

Belphegor

"MC you're so easy to sneak upon hehe. Come here and lie with me." He was just snoozing at the edge, smiling down at where you just fell.

What's taking you so long to come back up?He impatiently dived downwards to find you. And he was horrified by what he saw. "MC?!Damnit MC, why didn't you call for me!?"

He hoists you into his arms and tries giving you a kiss of air like he'd seen in Levi's shows. Still unsure of what to do, he just hurries you up to the surface.

"They were struggling to swim. Something's wrong. Fix them please. Fix them fast." He said, calling out to his brothers. He held your hand shakily and lay next to you, as Beel gave you CPR. His grip tightened once you started coughing.

"Belphie... I'm okay..." You squeezed his hand as tight as you could. He hid head in your shoulder before picking you up in his arms.

He wrapped you up in a towel and tried to make you fall asleep in his arms. "That was a horrible feeling. I don't want to feel that again." He mutters to himself while holding you closer.

#obey me headcanon #obey me ask #obey me angst #obey me comfort #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me fluff #obey me mammon #obey me game #obey me imagine #obey me brothers #obey me brothers x mc #obey me x reader

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman���s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point! 

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

[urlkssknt]

Hi! I dont know if you take requests, or if they are open anyway, but can I leave an idea here? Im just looking forward to a feral Nanami ngl. Any scenario is fine, but I feel that he would be most feral at his s/o death. So, why not, reverse shibuya arc! You die and Nanami lives, saying your last word in front of him, before being blasted by Mahito. I just wanna see the anger and him snaping his pacient self at Mahito the most. Oh my lord, Yuuji wouls be so heartbroken by this too 😢 Thank you for reading 💝💝

oh my god i love this!!! feral!nanami is a gift the world needs, i love your mind. i will get on this straight away, i’m so excited thank you requesting this!! this is my first request so i hope i do it justice!💗💗🤍🤍

the tight bruising grip on your katana loosened, just enough for the weighted sharp object to fall to the floor with a loud clatter, gaining the attention of the few surrounding people. your eyes move from the ugly bastard standing in front of you to the long pointed shard of his arm piercing your abdomen. oh fuck. suddenly, your body could no longer hold itself up, quickly losing all its energy. you tried your best to ignore the headache which felt like your brain was splitting open and the continuous burn of the sharp stinging sensation in your abdomen, almost replicating the feeling of your whole body being lit by roaring hot flames, burning all of your living cells to death. the atmosphere around you was slowly beginning to fade out and mix into a blur. you could barely make out the sound of your husband’s voice, begging you to hold on, to just wait a little longer. you couldn’t feel the warmth of his palm cradling your face, hugging your body closer to his chest. his cobalt blue shirt, the one you picked out for him as a gift for returning to the school, had darkened to a purple from your blood being absorbed by the material.

“please don’t leave me alone,” nanami could no longer hold back the sob anymore, it felt like heavy weight was pressing against his chest, limiting his own oxygen as the blond shaman forced himself to watch you in your last moments. his eyes were quick to notice the unsteady rises and falls of your chest. “i can’t lose you too.”

magically, you felt your tongue able to form words, the last ones your lover would hear from you. “y-you’re not a-alone…” it progressively became harder to keep your eyes open, wanting to engrave the warm brown eyes into your heart. your chest heaved with every slow breath, the oxygen struggling to travel to the necessary parts for respiration. “i’ll always… be w-with y-you…”

nanami swore his heart shattered into a million tiny shards, never being able to be fixed and whole again, as he witnessed your last breath, the beating of your pulse slowed to a complete stop. it felt as his own heart stopped along with yours. time itself slowed as kento cried the hardest he ever had in his life, holding his dear partner to his chest, praying to any deity out there in the cosmos to take him instead of you. his salty tears rolled off his sharp chin and fall onto your still face like shining jewels, even in death you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid his eyes on.

“sen-sensei,” yuuji’s voice trembled just like his body, shaking like a leaf in shock before the young teenager dropped to his knees. his own dark trousers becoming dirty from the puddle of blood he landed in.

the blond sorcerer stood up to his full height, wiping the tears across his face harshly, so roughly it irritated the skin of his face. nanami exhaled deeply before screwing his swollen eyes shut. many would describe the ex-salaryman as a calculated and stiff character, never committing an action with a bad intention, nanami kento was an ideal man for most. a loving husband, a kind-hearted teacher, and in your words, the most beautiful soul. for the first time in his life, kento let go of the restraints that constricted him into the stiff man people knew him to be. there was nothing left for him to be proud of, nothing left holding him back and stay reserved.

kento no longer had you.

nanami gripped the handle of the spotted wrapped sword between one bloody hand so tightly his knuckles turned white whilst the other readjusted the glasses which slipped down his nose.

“i’m not leaving till i kill that fucking bastard.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #jjk nanami #nanami kento

[marswr1tes]

hey! i found your blog when you wrote the poly!lercy thing, and it was really sweet, i enjoyed it a lot<33. i was wondering, if you're in the cobra kai fandom(totally fine if you aren't)could you write a poly!hawk&miguel x reader where the reader and hawk are dying/redying their hair and miguel's helping them?? thank you so much love!

HEADCANON TIME BC I DONT HAVE THE ENERGY TO MAKE A FULL THING (i hope that's okay bestie)😎😎😎

(small warning: slapping of asses)

- first off

purple

- that's it

- you and miggy were like "hawk my love please for the sake of our sanity dye your hair purple"

- and for the first FIVE MONTHS

- he said no.

- :|

- the bitch

- but then y'all pulled a "🥺"

- and he was like FINE, FINE ILL DYE MY HAIR PURPLE

- and so he did :D

- and you being the hottie you were decided you would do it too !! exciting !!

- the amount of kisses that miguel gave you were terrifying

- like actually

- also purple stained lips😩😩😩

- ALSO HAWKS HAIR ??

- WITHOUT THE HAWK ??

- LET ME BE THE FIRST TO TELL YOU MIGUEL SIMPED SO HARD

- AND PROBABLY MOST LIKELY YOU TOO

- yall helping each other getting the hard to reach spots <33

- "nonono wait y/n you missed a spot"

- "where ?"

- "here let me do it"

- GOODBYE I JUST WANT SOME HOT BFS NAMED MIGUEL DIAZ AND ELI/HAWK MOSKOWITZ PLEASE

- letting it sit and waiting for it to set in was fun

- making some tikky tokkys

- OH WAIT OFF TOPIC BUT

- y'all have definitely made a private group acc that only y'all have access to

- on insta and tiktok

- (for insta) so you'll get done with some project you've been struggling on and you'll post a selfie of you with the google classroom pulled up and the assignment marked 'turned in' in the background

- with a caption telling about it

- and then the boys'll comment

- "YAYYY IM SO PROUD OF YOU BAE"

- "GO BABY GO"

- and vice versa !! miguel will post a video of him getting some new kick or smth

- and hawk'll post him and the boys having a sleepover (?? idk just roll w it) and he'll describe some stuff

- it's really cute

- s o c u t e o m f g

- back to the main thing, y'all all upload some tiktoks and instagrams to those accounts to save for later ! ITS CUTE

- you do it at hawks house though, so while you're waiting for it to set in you have to clean up so his mom wont kill him :)

- and then you probably have a nerf war, knowing them

- it's nerf or nothin babeyyy😎

- while you're washing it out, you and hawk are both leaned over the tub(separately) so the other two make it a point to slap yours/hawks ass and comment on how hot it is/you are😃🔪

- but then y'all's hair is wet so you can shake it on them like a wet dog !!

- PAYBACK WHORES

- and after its dry and styled

- y'all make public posts about it

- power couple

- miguel's not included bc he didnt want to dye his hair🙄🙄

- but he does make for a great photo/videographer tbh

- oh my god but wait hawk totally makes you do a thirst trap with him...

- and if you say no, he shoves you and miguel out of the room and you wait outside for like an hour

- and then he's like

"feast"

- and so y'all drool over the thirst traps and tiktoks he made :)

- all in all, i'd say its a pretty fun time !!

#hawk x miguel #hawk x miguel x reader #poly! hawk and miguel #miguel diaz x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #miguel diaz #eli moskowitz #hawk #cobra kai #mars writes! #started june 2 2021 #finished june 9 2021

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 5]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, use of toys(sybian), squirting, the long awaited chapter 5 😳💕 do they finally meet?!?!?!?! hehehehehehe also sorry for not being able to post this yesterday, had a busy week and when I tell ya I woke up at 3pm today 😗 💕💕💕💕 as always, thank you so much for your continued interest!! I'm already writing ch 6 and im SOOOO EXCITEDDDD hHEHEHEHEEHEH 💕💕💕💕💕 HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR WEEKENDS! 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ? 

“You guys! I--you have to see this!”

You can’t wipe the smile off of your face when you shimmy to the side, excitedly showing off the new gift that Seungcheol had sent in the mail.

sleepy_wonu: holy hell

universe_WZ: that mustve costed hella

alphagyu97: nothin like feelin extra poor amirite lads

angelhan: it was only a matter of time before dom.cheol was untouchable lol 

You giggle slightly as you adjust the camera so that you and your new sybian are in frame. “Hey~ Don’t say that!! Y’know it’s not the amount of money you spend on me… I’m glad you guys are always here with me~” The sound of coins clinking goes off in the back as you read a few more comments.

dom.cheol: well princess, don’t u wanna show them how you use your new toy? ;)

tangerine_kwan: fuck i bet it can get u to cum so fuckin fast

hoshi_tiger_xx: yessss

dom.cheol has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

“Hmm~ How many times do you think I can cum with this? Oh! Why don’t we do this~” You pause, sliding your wet panties down your legs before tossing the material to the side. You grin, swinging a leg over the toy until you’re straddling it. “Rapid fire question! Whoever guesses the right amount of orgasms I can take before I call quits… Wins a special unreleased photoset of me! Go!”

dom.cheol: 5

universe_WZ: 4

sleepy_wonu: 6

angelhan: 3 artist8hao: 5

alphagyu97: everyone took all the good numbers already!!! 7!!!!!

gentleman_josh95: DMAN IT 3

tangerine_kwan: 8, fuck

kitty_junjun: ugh i was gonna say 4!!!!

xcaliburDK: i was gonna say 5!!!!

therealchan99: 2? thats so low tho….

chwenon: as if anyone is gonna say 1, lmao. Uh 6…. If sleepy_wonu happens to disappear

hoshi_tiger_xx: im gonna say 10, but… seems… risky

Reaching for the remote, you situate yourself until the raised part of the toy sits directly on your clit. A shiver runs up your spine at the feeling; already excited for what’s in store. “Um, to be fair I haven’t tried it myself yet so I’m not sure either... Hehe, but I guess we’ll find out together, huh?”

Gulping, you set the sybian to its lowest setting, the air getting knocked out of your lungs immediately as your body lurches forward. “H--holy shit!” The vibrations are already harsh on the lowest setting; your fingers gripping the remote tightly as you try to adjust to the feeling. “O--oh my g-god, I--”

dom.cheol: aww can ur cute lil clit take it?

xcaliburDK: maybe one of the lower numbers was right lol…

The moans spill freely from your lips, garbled noises getting lost in the mix when you start to grind against the vibration. “Fuck, it--it feels suh--so good, hah, already feel like ‘m gonna cum…” You whine, already getting lost in the pleasure. For a second, you’re tempted to raise the vibration intensity but you hold back, letting your wetness coat the toy as you continue to grind down onto it. The sound of donations and comments sound fuzzy to your ears; only the sound of the sybian buzzing reminding you that the camera was still even on.

“Ngh, g-god, I’m--I’m gonna cum!”

tangerine_kwan has donated $75

xcaliburDK has donated $50

dom.cheol has donated $200

dom.cheol: cmon, lets see that pretty pussy cum

Your legs shake as you cum, only a squeak coming out of your mouth as you lurch forward atop the toy. The grip you have on the remote loosens while simultaneously trying to turn it off in the midst of your orgasm.

dom.cheol: awww cumming so hard on the first setting? Cute

therealchan99: lol baby is in trouble now

angelhan: maybe 3 was right lmao

“I--a-ah, fu--fuck!” You cry, shaky fingers finally managing to shut the toy off. Your body immediately untenses; chest heaving with how sensitive you already were and it had only been your first orgasm and the lowest setting of the toy. “O-oh my g-god, I--I didn’t know i-it was that s-strong…” You mumble, body buzzing with the remnants of your orgasm.

sleepy_wonu: well mr dom.cheol did pay top dollar

gentleman_josh95: imagine if u had this for yesterdays show lol

“Oh god, if--if I had this for yesterday’s show, I would’ve been too boneless to do today’s show!” You laugh airily, slowly grinding against the toy already. “It feels really nice though… I’m already super curious about how strong the other settings are…” Trailing off, you reach for the remote again, throat dry as you fiddle with the knob.

kitty_junjun: what if u set it to the max setting

chwenon: idk if her cute lil body could take it

dom.cheol: its okay baby, take ur time. I wanna see how sensitive that pussy of yours can get

“But ‘m already so sensitive~ I dunno how much more I can take~” You tease, biting your lip when all the comments flooding the chat are words of encouragement.

You knew when you started camming that it’d be no easy job. Building up your fanbase and subscriber count had taken you months upon months to even get within the thousands and camming was physically exhausting. Some days your viewer counts were low and some days they were above average and sometimes you didn’t make as much in one show than another.

tangerine_kwan: was therealchan99 right with 2 then? Heh

therealchan99: finally FINALLY ITS MY TIME TO SHINE

Giggling, you slowly start turning the knob; body twitching when the vibrations kick in at full force.

Seungcheol watches in amazement at the way your body jerks atop the machine.

He can see the way your legs twitch unbearably when you cum for the third time; your brows furrowed at the intensity of the vibrations and your taut body when you can barely manage to turn the machine off.

Licking his lips, he slowly thrusts up into his closed palm, spreading the precum down his shaft as he watches you catch your breath.

“I--ngh, fuh--fuck, I---I don’t--don’t know if I--I can cum a-again…”

Seungcheol moans at your breathy whimpers; the arousal in his body pooling up quickly when he sees the fucked out expression in your eyes. His eyes flit to the wetness that coats the silicone portion of the toy, smirking when he realizes how much you really seemed to enjoy the gift he’d gotten you.

Mentally patting himself on the back, he praises himself for making the right decision.

angelhan: please tlel me im the winner im begging

universe_WZ: NO

dom.cheol: is the princess tired already? ;)

You catch your breath, not wanting to give up despite how fuzzy your head was getting and how much your body was buzzing. “I dunno… We still haven’t tried the last setting, you guys… And I’m just so curious...” You whisper, hazy eyes staring into the camera.

hoshi_tiger_xx: god u look so pretty like this, all fucked out

artis8hao: right? fuck, id kill to be that guy who can get u off like this

xcaliburDK: goddamn same

The sound of coins clinking mixes with the ringing in your ears; fingertips already on the knob of the remote.

You take a deep breath, letting the adrenaline kick in as you quickly set the knob to the highest setting, a high pitched cry spilling from your lips when you let go of the remote in favor of holding onto the machine instead. Grinding down onto it, you meet the toy's harsh vibrations as it quickly forces another orgasm out of you in the matter of seconds.

Choked cries spill from your lips as your entire body tenses up; body twitching uncontrollably as you cum for the fourth time. You lean back with whatever energy you have left, bracing yourself on the back of the toy as you relieve your swollen clit of the buzzing machine. Your orgasm refuses to stop and you can already tell how obscenely wet everything’s gotten when your head starts to clear.

alphagyu97: fuck you squirted all over the toy baby

universe_WZ: fuck fucki fuck

universe_WZ: wait did i winf kjfhdsjk

You shakily slide off of the machine, resting on your side as the machine still buzzes with life next to you. Your entire body won’t stop shaking, head muddled as you fight the urge to shut your eyes and sleep for the next 5 days. “I’m--I--” You whimper, still feeling the phantom vibrations between your legs.

“I--ho--holy fuck, I, w-wow, I--I don’t--that--I’m, I’m just… wow.”

dom.cheol has donated $400

dom.cheol: knew you’d like it ;)

universe_WZ: THAT MEANS I WON

universe_WZ has donated $150

angelhan has donated $150

therealchan99: well, at least some of us got close

hoshi_tiger_xx: fuckin speak for urself man i said /10/

You end the show after letting ‘universe_WZ’ know you’ll contact him soon, shutting your eyes as you lay on your soiled sheets.

You can still feel your fingertips twitching when your eyes slide shut, chest heaving in deep breaths as you try to relax yourself, momentarily cursing yourself for pushing your body too far for tonight’s show. 

Groaning, you reach for your phone, the screen lighting up with a text from Seungcheol, a simple ‘don’t forget to drink water ;)’ in your notifications and you can’t help but pout.

Seungcheol was nice, almost too nice. Definitely not in a murderer kinda way though, you think. 

He bought you expensive gifts and never asked for anything in return which made you feel bad sometimes. And while the donations and tips you’d made through your camshows was enough to get by with, Seungcheol’s generous donations helped you always make your rent and bills on time without worrying if you’d have enough or not.

You quickly text him back with a smile on your face; hoping that he’ll like what you had to offer.

Seungcheol feels the exact same way he did when you first contacted him offering him a free show, except maybe ten times worse. At first, he’d been a little sad that he hadn’t won your quick little game but this made up for it 20-fold.

The six simple words read ‘want to meet up next friday?’, a small heart emoji next to the question and he’d almost thrown his phone when he read it, hands shakily responding with a simple ‘I’d love to.’ to make it seem like he was calm when he was most definitely not.

His immediate next order of business after replying was to text Namjoon despite how late into the night it already was, begging for the day off and offering to take any shifts or pay cuts in exchange for it. 

All he needed was one day and he swore he’d never miss a day of work ever again.

Namjoon responds with a quick ‘sure, why not’, momentarily confusing him as to why his boss was awake while simultaneously sending Seungcheol into complete panic when he realizes he finally gets to meet you.

The week goes by extremely quickly to Seungcheol; his mood on a completely different level when he offers to pick up Yoongi’s Sunday shift without a complaint. He cleans up all the messes around the roller rink and even offers to do jobs that aren’t his which have Jeongguk raising a brow at the older male.

In the days that lead up to your meeting, Seungcheol looks up a few cafes that you might be interested in and even goes to get an STD exam, not that he’s expecting anything. Safety first, he says.

Your Wednesday show comes and goes, Seungcheol too excited to even get off when he watches you and he even donates an extra $600 at the end of the show; travel spending money, he offers.

And Thursday comes without a hitch and he all but skips to the employee backroom once his shift is over, humming a tune while he changes out of his uniform.

“Hey hyung, no offense, but are you okay?” Jeongguk rests against the locker next to Seungcheol’s open one, brow raised at the blue haired male that beams back at him. “I’m scared, why are you so… giddy. You even offered to take Yoongi-hyung’s weekend shift? What the hell was that about? I’ve never seen him that giddy either.  Man, this place is getting weird, maybe I should quit...”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh, patting Jeongguk on the shoulder before shutting his locker.

“I have an important meeting tomorrow, that’s all. And don’t quit, ‘cause who else is gonna give me free food.”

While the excitement had him since Saturday, now that it was finally Friday, he was downright nervous.

The two of you had agreed to meet at 2PM in front of the cafe that Seungcheol had picked out and you’d gotten a hotel in town to make it easier on yourself instead of trying to get back to your place too late. Seungcheol had offered to come pick you up, but you had politely declined; instead opting to meet him first before letting him do anything else for you.

And by nature, Seungcheol gets to the cafe 15 minutes early, fidgeting and continuously running his fingers through his hair as he patiently waits. He can feel his palms getting sweaty when he rubs them against his jeans, mentally trying to keep calm and his head floods with all sorts of thoughts; mainly, how he even got into this position with you in the first place. And he gets so distracted that he doesn’t realize you’d be standing watching him zone out for the last 5 minutes.

“Wow, not sure what’s got you so focused but you’re standing so still!”

Seungcheol hears your cute airy laugh that follows, a cherry blush on his cheeks when his eyes meet your smiling face. “I--oh my god…” He whispers, taking in your appearance.

He feels his face buzzing, fingers twitching when he sees you in a cute simple  sundress. “W-wow, you--you’re just… so beautiful. I mean, you’re beautiful on cam too but just, wow, in person? Incredible.” The blush reaches his ears when he realizes he’s rambling, a nervous laugh spilling out of his lips.

“S--sorry, I, uh, usually I’m more chill than this but y’know…” He trails off, to which you nod. You step closer to Seungcheol and he gets a hint of your sweet smelling perfume, mentally groaning when your cute eyes peer up into his.

“That’s okay! I totally understand~ I’m kinda nervous myself too, to be honest…” You pause, a pink blush coating your own cheeks. “But let’s talk over some food, huh?”

Seungcheol doesn’t want to pry, but he’s not sure if he should address you as ‘Cherry’ in person, or if he should avoid calling you by anything at all.

He watches as you go through the cafe’s menu, biting the inside of his cheek as he itches to ask.

“‘Cheol… I can feel you staring, y’know.. Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, concerned eyes meeting his nervous ones.

“I just-- Sorry, I didn’t mean to be awkward, I just was wondering how I should address you in person? I don’t want to overstep my bounds, I know you don’t put your real name out there so…”

You place your menu down, closing it before leaning on your palms atop the small table. Seungcheol is cute, too cute, you think. You knew this would be a question when the two of you eventually met and you had given yourself the time to get used to the idea that he’d know your real name.

He eyes hyperfocus on your glossy lips, watching as you say your name for him for the first time.

Seungcheol’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest when he hears it; repeating it over and over in his head before he says it out loud.

“Wow, it sounds nice when it’s you saying it~” You tease, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t mind if you call me by my name, by the way! The pet names are cute but maybe we should keep that to the bedroom~” You end in a whisper, winking at the male.

Fuck, he thinks, just as his cock throbs at your comment. He really wishes you wouldn’t say things like that because he’s weak and he knows it, especially when it comes to you. “Okay, cool! Yeah, sorry, I just---I didn’t want to overstep, I know you don’t really let that be public information.”

“Of course! And thank you, I really can’t tell you how much you’ve done for me. I really… really wouldn’t be able to do all the things that I do if it weren’t for your constant support.”

You want to say more, but the waiter comes to take your orders, cutting you off until he leaves again.

“By the way…” Seungcheol looks at you with curious eyes, lips puckered around his drink straw. “Tell me about yourself, ‘Cheollie! I feel like we didn’t really get to talk that one time!”

He swallows the water in his mouth, licking his dry lips. Here goes nothing, he thinks.

“I swear, and please don’t think I’m a loser, but I--I work at a roller rink. It’s really not cool, I’m not some high paid CEO or whatever, I--I just, I work hard?” Seungcheol chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he waits for your reply.

“Wait, that’s so cool! Oh my gosh, I kinda wanna go!”

The surprise washes over Seungcheol, eyes wide as saucers when he hears you saying you’d want to visit his workplace. “Wuh---wait, seriously!?”

“Yeah! It’s kinda, like, retro! I haven’t been to one since I was a kid!” He quickly offers to bring you to the roller rink on Sunday so you could have somewhere to hang out while you were in town.

“And sadly, I took a shift on Sunday so you can hang with me while I work.” 

Seungcheol grins, watching as you jokingly roll your eyes at him. “So you did it on purpose, huh…” The two of you share a laugh, glad that your first meeting seemed to be going okay so far.

“Well, I mean, if it makes you feel any better, my best friend works the concession stand so I’ll make sure to get you a free pair of skates and food whenever you want?”

“It’s a deal!”

The two of you continue to talk over your late lunch, Seungcheol telling you of the various work hijinks he’d gone through at his time working at the roller rink.

“Which, by the way, that morning show you did… Hope you know I holed up in the restroom for an entire hour for that ‘lil stunt.”

You can’t help the tears that fall from your eyes when you laugh, only feeling slightly bad for the blue haired male. “But I told you! Sometimes it’s just like that, y’know~” You tease back, heart blooming at the way you and Seungcheol got along.

In all honesty, there’d been something on your mind since you first sat down and you didn’t know when the right time to ask was, or if it was even appropriate.

The smile slips from your face as you bite the inside of your cheek in thought.

Seungcheol takes the bill from the waiter, slipping his card into the holder before you can even offer. But he notices the way your expression falls, noting the hesitance in your eyes when he looks at you from across the table.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice is gentle, soft and caring when he leans over the table to make sure you’re alright.

“Yeah! Just---Can I ask you for a favor?”

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #scoups #seungcheol

[sydneyshipsstuff]

so uh last night at like 4 am i couldnt sleep, decided to walk my dog, and came up with this bad boy. It’s a rough draft, though. um @professional-benaddict read it and told me to post it, so whatever rafni says goes. 

-Little! Peter with like everyone lmao (platonically), but main pairing is Tony x Peter. everyone is 18+ and Littles are known. but yeah, I call this “uncanonically Canon AU” because it follows canon character tropes (except Peter).

----------------

so i LOVE the doctor trope w stephen and tony to death, like probably a lil too much, but hear me out

--canon tony and the avengers with not canon (aka powerless) little peter

--im thinking how they met is before peter became classified as a little, he was smart smart. so, he still gets the internship, but a real one this time.

--hes hanging out with the other interns when he feels himself regress. he freaks and goes to hide in a bathroom or something

--he runs into (probably pepper??) someone and they help him get out of the tower because he's obviously very vulnerable

--they (pepper?) take him to the hospital to get tested and find out hes a high care little. once they find out peter freaks out because omg he cant work like this

--(pepper?) assures him that they will figure it our, but with no CG, and just for plot sake, he also is living alone at this point so they dont feel comfortable sending him home, so he stays overnight, at least, in the hospital

--(pepper?) goes to talk to tony himself about this since hes the one who chose and hired the interns. tony isnt quite sure what to do because peter is one of the best in their group

--(pepper?) suggests that he go have a one on one talk with peter and see what the boy wants to do with his future, and also meet with the doctors to see what they think is best for his future

--now, tony has met peter a few times, and the kid is pretty cool, but he never really cared about him (harsh, but canon tony is pretty reserved so yuh) so, when he goes into the hospital room to talk with him, hes mentally preparing to never see peter again

--but, when he walks in, he sees peter sat on a cot carefully coloring in an avengers coloring book, and his entire aura is different and /adorable/

--as if he wasnt already kinda done for, when peter notices he's there, he looks up, eyes blown wide and a kid-like face on full of awe

--he sits on the end of the bed and they simply stare at each other before peter finally gets the courage to ask why tony is there, stuttering through it like an adorable mess

--tony freaks out, because as good as peter is, he planned on letting peter down, but now that hes here, all he wants is to see the boy.

--instead he smooths his nervousness and easily asks about how the boy is doing. he asks if peter has a CG, and predicably, peter just sadly shakes his head

--anyways i dont really know how this part would be worded, and it probably wouldnt happen in just one day, but eventually tony asks peter if he wants tony to take care of him

--peter is a cutie and accepts, again dont really have this part planned out, im akward when it comes to writing about the adopting of a little

--he goes with tony and since he lives in the tower, he also gets the avengers as glorified CGs. now this is the part i LOVE

***added part by Rafni:

"I’d imagine that Peter would just be kept in the hospital, like he doesn’t need any meds nor saline so he doesn’t even have a drip nor is he hooked up to any monitors. He is just there in the hospital pyjamas colouring and waiting for someone to take care of him🥺👀"

And since there’s no medical concerns (anymore) the nurses would have more time to just chat with Peter and make sure he is like mentally taken care of 🌸🌸

---

tony stark- he's obviously the main man and does all the main caring. hes the one who sleeps with peter and makes sure he gets food, and plans the days. he also sometimes will hand make little gadgets (safe ofc) to occupy peter. he gets peter little engineering/inventing kits and will hold back any groans he has as peter hits his leg with a plastic hammer and screwdriver. he also is the one who is ALWAYS there, when he cries, when he's happy, when he's sad.

thor- he lets peter play with his hair, and even lets the boy snuggle, and sometimes even chew on, mjolnir (because of course peter would be worthy)

steve rogers- he lets peter look at and hold the shield. one day he finds the boy curled like a cat dosing on the inside of it

natasha- she speaks in russian to him, and when he goes outside to the park, shes there making sure no one disturbs him

wanda+sam (i had an idea for them when i originally thought of this, but i cant remember it now :/)

bucky- he lets peter also mess with his hair, although more rare than thor, but he does let peter suck on his metal fingers when hes really small, and will scratch peters scalp with it, the metal scratching much better than normal skin. also if he ever gets a fever, the cold of the arm feels amazing on his forehead

bruce- not strictly canon since hes more sciency than doctor, but i imagine bruce is the one who does checkups and takes care of the meds when peter is sick

stephen- he doesnt do it often, plus he's not at the tower much, but hell do little harmless "magic" tricks to excite Peter and when peter gets grumpy, stephen will give him a little stress spell thing to calm peter down

peter quill- i imagine hes the one who is down to do lots of fun stuff, but is also the most reckless towards the actions suited towards littles, getting a lot of scolding from tony. also, he has great taste in music, so when peter has bursts of energy, he'll bounce around the room dancing to old 80s music

rocket- hes the closest peters ever gonna get to a pet, and with lots of bribing from tony, rocket /occasionally/ lets peter pet him and feed him "treats", sometimes peter will ask rocket to do a trick like jump or spin, but rocket with always decline...at first. peters trademark pouts do the trick because either rocket will concede and hurt his pride, or tony will see and threaten rocket into making his little boy happy. its always worth it to see the happy little squirms and claps

gamora- she's the resident story teller. when its bedtime, she'll share her cool space stories, leaving out the gory/scarier aspects. it always does the trick as hes out in minutes. sometimes hell catch her and peter q engaging in loving activities (ie kissing, hugging, whatever), and he'll just giggle away, and as embarrassed as gamora gets, not being an openly affectionate person, she might just go to the extreme to hear the cute giggles out of the little boy

clint- hes pretty chill with peter. he also likes to play games with the boy, playing things like peek-a-boo when he's super small, or playing darts when he feels older. tony isnt /too/ happy about it, but its better than quill so he doesnt say anything.

pepper is there too because i love the idea of tony working away somewhere and pepper calling peter in, handing him a few sheets of paper, sometimes actual documents, sometimes just scratch paper to entertaim the boy, before asking peter to deliver them to tony. she always has a smile when peter eagerly nods with his whole body before running to the office to give tony the papers. it almost always ends with peter in his lap, but it /always/ ends in tony praising him, saying something along the lines of 'theres my little helper boy. look at you'

---

--on any particular day peter wakes up aged up, he doesn't even miss his old internship because this life is so much better, although on these days tony actually lets him help with some safer stuff in the lab with him

--also, they are still the avengers and still have to save the universe. tony leaves him in the care of Happy or Pepper, trusting them both to handle him. sometimes, it ends in disaster. sometimes, they are lucky enough to find happy laying on the couch, with a drooling little boy soaking his suit

--no matter how things end up, it never gets old being able to come home and cuddle up with the reason tony wants to save the universe.

--its no surprise peter is able to help the man just as much as tony helps him. tony stops locking himself up so late at night so he can put peter to bed and cuddle up. he stops drinking when he's stressed, instead finding his boy and reading a story to him. his hookups end, he wants to be there for peter all the time. he gets more work done, the added bonus of having a pretty little boy in his lap helping keep his mind on track.

--tony still has his canon issues, but having peter there makes everything a little more manageable. and when he eventually gets too old to be ironman, its okay, because his universe is lying in bed, a red pacifier in his mouth, and a family of superheroes softly arguing about who the boy loves most

--and despite tony being a narcissist, he knows this is not that, when he thinks that without a doubt he is peters favorite. after all, peter helped him see the good inside the bad

---

so uh yeah thats all i had to say. maybe in the future it will become an actual thing, idk. i still have so many projects im working on first. feel free to add whatever you want to it though !!

#Little!Peter #daddy!tony #starker #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark #steve rogers #wanda #sam wilson #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #stephen strange #peter quill #rocket raccoon #gamora #clint barton #pepper potts #Sydney writes #Sydney rambles #late night sydney #rafnis stuff #rafni if you see this i love you #🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇

[warmau]

kick it!au x nct 127

more like punk!au 127, but it’s inspired by the n version of the album!

taeyong

only heir to one of seoul’s biggest tech businesses, but no matter how much his parents try to get him to act like one 

he really could give a rats ass about it 

sometimes his parents think he’s doing it on purpose - the over the top outfits and the heavy music

the skipping out on important meetings, the hanging out with people who don't even imagine what kind of tax bracket his parents are in

but taeyong just cant bring himself to want to give his whole life away 

to slaving over some company in some high office in a building so far off from the wonders life has to offer

he’d rather run around and experience what he can while he’s young and his body can handle it 

so for a while, he just runs away - it sets of a massive panic throughout the city of seoul as his parents send out search teams and private investigators

and the police are put on the case 

you watch the news and sigh, spotting taeyong spread out like a comfortable cat on your couch

“you know sooner or later they’re going to find out you’re here.”

“no they won’t. you were an intern in our legal department - you never even officially met me.”

he answers, playing with the threads off of his holed up tshirt before sitting up

“hey - if you really don't want to be involved in this, just run away with me to London like i offered.”

you take a bite of toast

“won’t that just get me more involved - we’ll both become fugitives. well i will, you’ll probably be saved by your parents money.”

taeyong’s eyes darken and his beautiful features fall sullen

you hear him hit the back the pillow with a soft thud

“i wish i wasn't living my life on the back of my parents - it’d make everything so much easier.”

you get up, leaning over the couch to look down at him 

you met him when you’d gotten fired from your internship actually

why? because you threw hot coffee on some creep manager trying to feel you up and taeyong, who’d been passing by the floor, had watched mesmerized as you’d yelled at him for even thinking of touching you

it was the most badass thing he’d ever seen and when you were dragged away and tossed out of the building

he’d run up to you and offered to help you out

you thought he was saying he’d get you your job back - which you didn’t want because you didn’t want to work with creeps

but taeyong had actually meant getting you a favor at another company

even if he was a punk kid with no interest in business, he was still pretty charismatic with the other kids his age with parents in high places

he was the reason you had a comfortable life now - so when he shoed up on your doorstep you couldnt say no

now you’re looking at him and he’s looking up at you - the lost look in his eyes makes you so sad

“i cant run away with you anywhere, but you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want.”

his lips turn up in a smile but before you can pull back he leans forward and you feel the softness of his mouth brush yours

you freeze with your hands digging into the couch and taeyong puts out his own palm on your cheek

“what if i wanna stay here with you forever?”

his tongue runs along the outline of your bottom lip and you feel the strength in your arms sort of fade

“are you doing this just to piss off your par-”

you start when you pull back, but he shakes his head and taeyong is not good at lying

“no. im doing all of this because i do want to be with you.”

jaehyun & johnny

guitarist and drummer of their garage punk band that they started in highschool together

to be honest, johnny had suggested it as a way to get themselves more popular - and jaehyun had thought it’d be a fun way to pass the long summer days

but now they’re actually pretty well known in the underground scene

and have went on to play booked shows in packed bars and events

they even have self designed merch which is kinda,,,well,,,,their fans love them anyway lol

you’re actually a server at one of the bars they play pretty frequently, and even though most of the crowd is pushed up on the stage when they play

there are some stragglers or bored significant others who occupy the tables in the back and who you have to deal with 

they usually complain to you about the loud, thrashing music - but you have to say - you kind of dig the duo’s chaotic energy

plus jaehyun always looks handsome in leather black jeans and hair slicked back, while johnny looks just as enticing with disheveled brown long bangs and a right sleeve full of tattoos 

you think some of the people in the crowd don’t even fancy the music that much either - the two musicians are pretty much a sight to enjoy on their own

you actually favor,

jaehyun - the guitarist and the main singer who always looks cold and put together

you sometimes akin him to more of like a businessman than a punk musician

but he really does have a lovely voice when he isn’t screaming into a mic

also - he tips better than most people - when he comes back to the bar to get a drink after the show

fans usually follow behind him like ants on honey

but he always makes it a point to get a few minutes before them so he can chat with you

his questions are usually about how you like the songs, you have the sneaking suspicion he’s the one who writes them

and you always enjoy the moments before his hoard attacks him

one evening you collect his bill and are surprised at the large tip again - but also at his number scrawled at the bottom and a question

thinking of writing my first love song, i think you can really help with that.....if you’d want to.

johnny - the drummer and the wilder part of the two

he’s got tattoos and is always jumping around and throwing drumsticks into the crowd 

he looks like a mess when he’s up there, feeling the music and going insane with the fans cheers

but when he gets off stage he has those long sweaty bangs in his face

and usually is missing a part of his shirt that either tore or was torn off

he always finds you after, when you run back to the kitchen which is beside the back of the stage

usually for more snacks for the bar - and he always coaxes something free out of you 

you like his one-liners and genuinely happy smile so you dont mind

and sometimes he tells you about a new tattoo or a new city he’s going to get or visit

one evening he stops you when all you’ve got is a wine bottle in hand and asks if you have a second

you agree and follow him into a part behind stacked speakers and almost drop the wine when he pulls his shirt up by his teeth

through muffling you understand him saying “look, i got my first hip tat!”

you see the tiger that’s disappearing down below his belt

“how big is the whole thing?!”

you ask and he winks, letting his shirt fall back down

“well if you want to see the whole thing - why don’t i wait for outback later?”

you agree - only to think about it ten minutes later and be like 

OH

taeil

employee at the local vintage records shop

the owner pretty much entrusts all of the store to taeil, whose music taste is highly respected in the community and is also very very,,,,,,,very specific

but unlike most people who love to come in here and argue about what genre or band or artist is the best

he just likes to,,,,,,,,vibe

which is why people feel either comfortable around him - because he’ll listen to them rant with a smile as he checks them out

or kinda weirded out because like - does he ever raise his voice above a softhearted whisper?!?!

pretty cute with his blonde mullet and pretty silver earrings - a loved flannel over his shoulders

because of taeil’s work and the general popularity of vintage records as an aesthetic, the shop gets a little more busy

and so the owner hires you - who unlike taeil who favors ska-punk and beach vibes

you are a strictly heavy metal person

the grimier - the better

and when you start working your job, you cannot handle taeil’s playlist 

and you can’t handle his laidback attitude to match

so you always have something to say - half because you mean it but also half because you want some reaction from taeil

but taeil never does, if you spend half an hour shittalking the album he picks he just kind of shrugs it off

if you put on some swedish death tunes - he just lets you play the music without a comment

you guys look kind of funny next to each other because he’s just punky dad chic and your wardrobe is bleak and black

people can tell where your favorite sections are and they are on opposite sides of the store

one afternoon, you’re begging the store owner to buy copies of this obscure band most people dont care about but who you LOVE for the store

he keeps saying no because he’s pretty sure no one will buy it

when taeil strolls in for his shift

the boss turns and asks taeil for his opinion and you give up completely because 

there’s no way he’s gonna ask the boss to order a heavy metal record-

“yes, let’s order it. i trust their taste.”

taeil smiles your way before turning the corner

the boss sighs and pats your shoulder, promising he’ll put it on the list for the next order

you just stand there, before breaking from your shock to find taeil

you do - he’s unpackaging new goods - and gives you a soft, happy smile when you call out his name

“why’d you stand up for me back there? you hate my music.”

“i never said i hated it.”

you scrunch up your nose

“so you’re a heavy metal fan now?”

“no, but you are and if you like it then it’s good right?”

you don’t understand, confused you say again - “but you hate it-”

he puts down the record in his hand and turns toward you 

he tilts his head and goes,

“but i don't hate you, in fact i like you quite a lot so im willing to put up- i mean listen to the music you like because i know it makes you happy.”

the words swirl around in your head and you feel something warm flood into your veins

“you ,,,, like me a lot?”

“yes, i thought it was obvious how shy i was around you.”

you try not to laugh in disbelief, because you’re pretty sure he’s never even changed his facial expression since you started here

but whatever - you kinda like that (a lot) about him too

yuta

your local back alley tattooer and piercer 

not actual back alley, more like in his apartment, but still - does he have a license for this? who knows 

he loves doing colorful, crazy pieces - usually with a magical element or a pinup style

and if you give him a big project, he goes absolutely nuts on it

he himself has tattoos up the back of his neck and all the way down to his ankles

he has almost thirteen piercings' in one ear, with his infamous tongue piercing, bellybutton, and two studs above his hipbones 

pain doesn’t exist for him - and neither do boundaries when it comes to art or fashion

he’s almost always photographed or stopped when he goes outside

long hair up in a bun, he pulls out one of the sticks holding it and is like “it’s also a pocket knife if i click here-”

thick collar, long skirts or ripped up sweaters

he’s a very fun person to both work with or just be around LOL

you don’t really think that though - actually you’re super nervous when you see him

your friend though, the one who insisted on coming to yuta for their nose piercing, is hyped

she’s buzzing around him - getting excited and also flirting 

but for someone reason ,,, he keeps looking over her shoulder at you

“well, let me get the needle ready-”

he starts and you ask if it’s been sterilized

he laughs in response and your friend shushes you

but something feels all weird about this

you lean in to her as yuta gets his instruments ready

“do you really want this? why don’t you just get another ear-”

“don’t worry! it’ll be fine!”

you hear a voice chime in behind you both, “exactly - it’ll be peachy.”

you bite your lip as you watch yuta approach but just as you want to make sure again

your friend sees the needle and

passes out

you catch her - eyes wide and scared

“wh-oh my god! we need a doctor!”

Yuta sighs, rolling his eyes and putting the needle back down

he takes your friend from your arms and lays her down on the couch nearby

“no we don't. ill get some ice.”

“she’s passed out! what do you mean we don’t - we need to call-”

“it happens all the time.”

he disappears and then shuffles back in with an icyhot, he drops it in your hand and you stare at him

he pulls up a chair and sits down in it, “she’ll be back up in a couple minutes. we just have to wait.”

you’re skeptical - now more than ever - but you place the ice on her forehead and sit back up

“sooo, are you also looking to get a piercing?”

he suddenly inquires, leaning his elbows on his knees and giving you a look that makes you feel like you’re being seared under a lamp

“w-what, no. she just asked me to come along for support.”

“you’d look good with a nose piercing, or maybe a lip piercing, or the shy types always get something crazy like-”

his eyes drop down a little lower and you huff, fighting off a weird buzz in your chest

“no! i don't want any, and i don't want to be convinced either thank you.”

he shrugs and sits back 

“you sure? not even i offer to do it for free?”

you roll your eyes, “does free mean free or is there a clause missing?”

“free means you pay nothing, but maybe you’ll consider getting coffee with me.”

this catches you off guard - you nearly lose grip on the icyhot on your friends forehead when you turn to him

“s-sorry, are you flirting with me while my friends passed out on your couch?!!??”

yuta grins

“yeah, i am. isn’t that normal?”

doyoung

politically outspoken activist, nazi stomper, no bullshit from anyone graduate student 

doesn’t look punk on the outside but put on his headphones and it’s straight up songs about anarchy only

won’t tell anyone where the secret little tattoo he got is, but people place bets on where and what they think it is

jaehyun thinks it has to be like a quote from chomsky but taeil thinks it might be something sappy and sentimental like a flower for his mom

it’s actually just a cool looking sword on the side of his ribs that he got half because he wanted to prove he could take the pain LOL

he really doesn’t fuck around when it comes to his beliefs though - like he doesnt think it’s radical to want human rights for everyone and if anyone wants to get in his face about it 

then he will get back in their face about it

and listen he’s gotten into some fights, and even though he’s mostly lank and brains - he’ll take a punch with pride and throw his own if anyone says some dumb shit in his vicinity

“you look more like a prep then a punk” someone once comments and doyoung doesn’t even bat an eyelash to retort “i don't need a mohwak to fight for respect. and ill have you know - i do own a leather jacket so shove it.”

you’re a student in one of doyoung’s classes who thinks he’s really cool, but also intimidating

his dark eyes and lack of humor kind of make him unapproachable, but also pretty attractive

you’re kind of sad that you can’t talk to him about upcoming ralies and class work because you don’t know what you two could have in common

when one day you and doyoung arrive to class early and suddenly the quiet classroom is full of loud, hard, punk rock

you turn around and doyoung’s big eyes are somehow even bigger

“m-my bluetooth disconnected. sorry.”

he scrambles to turn down the volume, but you jump up

“you like rage against the machine? i love them!”

doyoung perks up

“really, usually people tell me they’re outdated and don’t fit well,,,,you know - how i look.”

you shake your head, “who cares what you look like - their music started a movement!”

you move your seat up closer to doyoung and ask if you can see his playlist

he shows it to you proudly and before you know it you two are in a deep discussion about bands and music and shows

the professor and students trickle in and before you know it it’s time for class to start

before it does, you happily exclaim to doyoung

“i didn’t think we’d ever have something in common - im so happy i can talk to you now!”

“you couldn’t talk to me before?”

doyoung takes note of the blush that dusts your cheek and the way your fingers twitch in your lap

“ah - i just, you know it’s hard to talk to someone you like.”

doyoung is about to ask that you say that again, just so he can confirm it and get that giddy feeling again

but the professor starts the lecture 

too bad the whole time doyoung can’t help but steal looks at you - counting down the minutes till the class is over and he can ask you to come with him for lunch

you guys can listen to music and,,,,,,,maybe talk about how to change the political world,,,,,together <3

jungwoo

definitely flunking a lot of his classes, but so pretty when you look passed the crazy orange hair that no one blames him for it 

he’s always falling asleep behind textbooks 

and doodling butterflies or whatnot in the corners of his notes

he loves baggy clothes, decorated with pins and paint, every now and then he’s even got little bandages on his cheeks and fingers 

he looks like he came out of a cartoon - delicate features and colorful clothes

he opens his locker and love notes fall out no matter what day it is 

and his headphones keep getting confiscated by teachers

he should technically be your biggest enemy

considering he breaks uniform violations, doesn’t do his homework, and frequently hangs out in the halls when he should be there

and you’re a prefect that’s got straight A’s 

but you,,,,,,,just cannot be mad at jungwoo

anyone else, you’re the first to hand out detention slips or lug them into the deans office

but with jungwoo - there’s what you’d just call favoritism

people think it’s kind of hilarious though because you’re trying so hard to hide your crush on jungwoo but it’s so obvious

and jungwoo is so clueless about your crush and the fact that you give him so many slides that when people complain about how he didn’t get in trouble but they did for doing the SAME thing

he’s like huh what? 

you keep getting told to stop being so lenient with him, he’s not going to learn if he’s not told he’s doing something wrong

but when you’re faced with him again

that big puppy smile and the cute little flower studs in his ears

you just cant

you just shoo him out of the sight of any other prefects or teachers so he wont be caught

one afternoon as you’re checking the halls during study period - you spot jungwoo hanging out on the ledge of the window to the top floor

beside him is a half eaten sandwich and a forgotten book

he looks so picturesque you feel guilty interrupting him 

but you know you’re not the only one on duty so you touch his shoulder gently

“jungwoo, kun might find you if you’re just sitting here.”

“you found me.”

he says with a gentle smile

“yes, but you know i don’t want you to get in trouble - so do you think you can go up to the roof?”

he nods, gathering his things and as you turn to leave, he takes a hold of your wrist and tugs you behind him

“wh-”

but it’s too late, you’re already up the stairs and being pulled through the roof’s door

jungwoo twirls you around and you want to tell him you have to get back to your job

when he pulls you against his chest

“j-j-jungwoo?!?”

your face heats up as you squeak in shock

he stares down into your eyes - the usual gloss of dreaminess seems a little more serious

“do you like me?”

your heart feels like it has stopped in your chest - no matter who’d asked you about your crush before, it was never jungwoo himself so it was always easy to lie

“wh-why are you asking me?”

he blinks, long dark lashes in contrast to his bright hair

“i want to know if you like me.”

“but why- y-you’ve never asked me before.”

“because.”

he shrugs, saying it as if it’s the easiest thing to admit in the world

“because i like you so if you like me too - i can ask you on a date.”

mark

skater boy who wants to go pro

spends hours in the park and in lots trying new tricks and just skating because if there’s one thing he loves

it’s the rush, the feel of the board and the air that passes by him as he cruises down the block

he’s pretty oblivious to the fact that he’s the most liked skater, maybe even person, in his neighborhood

because he will jump off his board to help old ladies cross the street and willing to bust it and eat dirt if a kid accidentally stumbles in front of him

he’s always kinda banged up, with something broken or sprained or slightly bloodied from messed up tricks or accidents

but he works it, along with the chino pants and old band tshirts and beanies 

he secretly got his nose pierced last summer, but he’s gotta keep hiding it from mom and dad lol

he takes part in a lot of local competitions because he really wants to get his foot in the pro game

and (not surprising to anyone but him) he has a lot of local fans

some are just fellow skaters who love his happy attitude, others are lovestruck teenagers who think the sweet skater is prime boyfriend material (they’re right)

you aren’t a huge skating fan, you actually don’t know much about it, but you sometimes get dragged along with friends to the events

they’re free and it’s fun to pass the time

you’re at one, sipping a slushie and listening to your friends argue about the upcoming show

when you notice a boy in a beanie off the right of the course

he’s practicing flips, his skateboard a strong neon green with what you assume are his initials - ML

“who is that?” you ask offhandedly and your friends all answer in unison - “oh! that’s the favorite - mark lee.”

you are about to look away, but then you end up catching mark’s gaze

when your eyes lock - he smiles and it shows off the sweetness that you can see people would go crazy over

you nearly miss your slushie straw as you try to smile awkwardly back

for the first time, you’re extremely excited to see one of the runs - mark takes his position at the top of the ramp and you edge forward in your seat

your friends comment about it - but you’re not the only one getting hyped - it seems like the whole place is waiting to see him succeed

you hold your breath a little as he lands the first trick, then the next, then the next

its going so well and you think you might even just get up and cheer when right on the last second - he hits a rail and the board flies off - it leaves mark tumbling down

he catches himself with his hands but you can see the pain and shock spread over his face

the crowd gasps - but no one moves

actually, you’re waiting for EMTs or someone to show up - but it’s just mark limping up and chasing after his runaway board

“where are the doctors - or someone to help?”

you turn and your friends just shrug, “it’s not a super big event so they usually don’t have anyone.”

you don’t know what comes over you, you’ve seen people slam before at these things but this just feels different

you get up from your seat and push down through to the back the course

you find mark sitting out near the curb of the parking lot, nursing what you can guess is a pair of pretty hurt palms

and you rush over

“are you ok?”

he looks up at you and you notice he’s abandoned his beanie - black hair a wild mess

“ah yeah, no worries. ill be good for my second-”

all you have are the napkins from your slushie, which you use quickly to dab at the small cuts on mark’s hands 

he’s so caught off guard by your sudden makeshift first aid, that mark just stares wide eyed as you try to help

“let me go find some ice or something, it looks like it really hur-”

“its ok! i fall all the time!”

you frown, “but your hands-”

he goes pink at the ears, because your voice is full of real concern, and plus he didn’t just smile so big at you before for no reason

you are as adorable from a distance as you are up close, probably even more actually

“im ok, thanks for worrying but i do need to get back to the course.”

you drop your hands from his and sigh, “ok. but after do you promise you’ll at least get some bandages?”

“promise.”

you nod and get up, watching mark stand with you and wince as he flips his board up into his hands

you still feel worried, but mark suddenly goes

“actually, would you mind coming with me after - i mean you don’t have to if you’re with your frie-”

“they won’t mind. of course ill come, at least that way ii know you didn’t go back on your promise!”

mark thinks your little laugh is the cutest thing hes heard in a while, it rings through his ears for the rest of the competition 

and when he humbly places third, he finds you in the crowd - and shakes his board up at you

the whole row you’re in turns your way

your friends all raise their eyebrows

but you’re just thinking about getting him those bandages (and maybe getting his number?) 

haechan

skater boy who is a pro

youngest in the scene right now with more than three world championship titles under his board 

sponsored by monster energy, vans, hell even companies like samsung are looking to put their money in him

his videos have millions of views on youtube and everyone whose trying to get into skating sees him as an icon to worship

the only person to land some of the hardest tricks known in the sport on his first runs 

always bright, with one little braid hanging from his hair - the mullet look was so well accepted by fans that he decided to keep it

(even had longtime friend and fellow skater jeno come over and dye it blonde for him)

and in general, he can take a fall like anyone - but when he does land his tricks he’s always bursting with energy and dance moves out on the course

you know him, how could you not, working as one of the go-pro camera crew for skating events

but when you’re assigned to be his follow along for the upcoming qualifiers being held in your city you almost lose it 

because not only are going to get to film THE haechan, but you’re going to be so close to him for the entirety of the competiton too

the fan in you comes to life, but you try to keep your cool when the day comes - introducing yourself with a handshake and a big smile

you’re nervous but what you don’t expect (and don’t actually even notice) is haechan is too

because - oh god, this is the first camera person he’s ever gotten that is on THIS level of cute

you’re so caught up in trying to get the perfect footage of him, that you don’t see how he keeps peeking at you out of the corner of his eye

when he trips over one of his boards and nearly crashes into another skater you assume it’s pre-competition jitters

but it’s actually just because you’re getting quite close to him - and haechan hasn’t ever had butterflies LIKE this

five minutes before the competition goes live, he requests that his manager switch you and one of the other skaters camera crew

it’s so soul crushing - you’re kind of left in a blank shock - until your new skater is shaking your shoulders

you think you must have done SOMETHING,,,,,no one has ever complained about you before??? you didn’t think you were even being the slightest bit annoying - even though you were trying REALLY hard not to ask for at least an autograph??

you spend the entire competition overthinking it until finally - after haechan wins and is done with all his interviews and handshakes

you manage to track him down and immediately bow at a 90 degree angle

“im so sorry if i did something wrong, i really didn’t think you’d ask to switch - please tell me what i did to upset you so i don’t do it again!”

your head is still down and haechan suddenly feels like the trophy in his hand weighs a ton

he clenches his teeth and mutters

“you didn’t do anything,,,,,,your crime is just being really-”

you slam up and your eyes are big and shaking, haechan feels like the worst person on earth as he swallows

“your cime is just being really,,,,really,,,,,really,,,,,,cute.”

“p-pardon?”

your voice cracks, because you’re pretty sure you misheard him

he scratches his head, almost bonking himself on the temple with the trophy

charismatic always silly and shining haechan suddenly looks coy 

“c-cute, you’re just really cute and i couldn’t focus on my tricks so - please don’t take it to heart.”

your stomach does a flip, both out of relief and out of disbelief 

“o-oh,,,,i-- well - im sorry for being-”

“don’t apologize for being cute!”

you jump and nod, haechan signs and mumbles again

“i made you feel bad didn’t i? well,,,let me make it up to you and take you to lunch,,,”

you nearly drop your go-pro because 

holy shit haechan is asking me out on a date,,,,,,in a roundabout way but,,,,,it’s definitely an invite for a date

“sure-id love to!”

haechan tries to hide his grin

but when his manager catches him twirling the trophy around and whistling with a dreamy look in his eyes later that day

well 

it’s just obvious 

someones in love 

#this was so fun to write i love punk concepts thidfjsl #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 #nct #give me punk like actual punk outfits or ill riot sm

[todoroki-waifu]

ayoo! I saw that requests were open so here I am! Anyways can I requests that there's a fem reader that is best friends with todoroki and he's dating (anyone) and one day when class 1a is chilling in the living room having a movie night and a kid from the future time travel there and everyone is confused asf and sooner or later it comes out that the child was todoroki's and the readers child and everyone's like damn cuz yk he has a whole s/o next to him LMFAOSJJ IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUSUNG😭😭

I’m so sorry this is so late! 😢 Thank you so much for your request! And it wasn’t confusing. This was an interesting one. If I did misinterpret it wrong, I’m sorry! Lol hope you like it ^^ 

Note:  __(u/s) will stand for unknown/unnamed significant other for Todoroki.

Todoroki x F! Reader (kind of?)

Word Count: 1,987

Genre: Angst, slight fluff, sci-fi, maybe a little fantasy? (whatever time travel would fall under)

Warnings: Female reader and Todoroki with a gender neutral s/o.

----------------

Midoriya, Iida, Todoroki, __(u/s), and Jirou were preparing snacks for class 1a's weekly movie night. Iida, Midoriya, and Jirou were the first to leave the kitchen, bringing with them cups, beverages, napkins, straws, and disposable plates. While Todoroki finishes up placing a variety of chips into different bowls, he looks over at his __(u/s).

He smiles fondly at them, walking over to his partner and wrapping his arms around them.

"Need any help?"

"T-todoroki-kun! You scared me." __(u/s) was concentrated on microwaving the popcorn at the correct temperature, afraid of triggering the fire alarm.

"Really? Am I that frightening?" He pouts slightly.

"Not at all! I guess my mind was elsewhere. I wanted to make sure that I didn't burn the popcorn." __(u/s) laughed sheepishly before pecking his cheek.

Both heads turn towards the kitchen entrance when they hear the sound of steps entering.

"Relax! Just me." You saw their slightly stiffened look. They were a fairly new couple so they were still getting used to showing their affection in front of other people. Todoroki and his partner were only comfortable around you, being that you're his best friend.

You've known him for a while and have been there for almost an entirety of his childhood and up to now. He still has yet to tell his significant other about his past, the poor boy afraid of scaring his current lover. 

Well, he'll tell them some day. Just not right now. But that was how much Todoroki trusted you.

He was also so grateful that __(u/s) was comfortable around you. __(u/s) knew of his and your relationship and although they were a bit weary of you in the beginning, they ended up loving you later on. You proved that you retained no feelings for the half and half student and that you had the same intentions as the rest of class 1a. Which was to be his loyal and supportive friend.

"Didn't mean to interrupt. Mina and Toru wanted some ice cream." You quickly went to the freezing, grabbing two tubs of the frozen dessert along with two huge spoons.

"Don't take too long, bestie. I want to get some cuddles with __(u/s), too." You joked as you walked out to the common area.

------

Midoriya saw you approaching the group and was the first to assist you.

"Here, let me get that." He grabs the two cold containers, placing it on the table. "Who wants which flavors?"

He calls out to the gang while a few responded back and you helped the All Might fanatic. Once you finish passing out the bowls, Todoroki and his partner come out with a few salty snacks to add to the menu.

You sat in between Midoriya and __(u/s) on the floor with a plate full of assorted goods. Todoroki and __(u/s) share a bowl of chips and ice cream, the couple feeding each other occasionally. You smile at your best friend, so happy for him.

Although you were a bit jealous that he found love before you. You felt like a third wheel whenever both of them would ask you to hang out.

Oh well. Romance will come whenever the time is right. Besides, you weren't that focused on relationships nor did you really have anyone in particular that you liked.

Your thoughts refocused on the blaring music coming from the TV, indicating the start of the movie. You excused yourself after a while, heading to the kitchen to grab some more water bottles for yourself and for a few.

When you reach the kitchen door, a small swirl of blue energy blocks your way. You watch as the ball of energy expand and white electrifying rays spread from the center. Before you could react, the energized orb immediately explodes, the blast causing you to fall onto your bottom. Not only did you feel the force push you back, but you felt a sudden weight holding you down.

"__(y/n)! Are you okay?" Midoriya and Bakugou are the first to respond to the blast with Todoroki not too far behind them.

"Y-yeah, I think so?" You replied, carefully sitting up. You look down at the weight on your lap, noticing it to be a small child with ___(hair color) hair and a single streak of white and red. When they peer up, you see dark grey and light blue eyes staring back at you.

"Mommy?" The child blinked up at you then smiled brightly. "Mommy! I found you!"

"M-m-mommy!?" You screeched out, feeling the little one embrace you tightly.

"You're a mother?" Uraraka chimed in.

"I didn't know I was one!"

"Mommy, where did your big belly go? Did my little sister finally come out? Where is she? I want to meet her! I'm so excited to be a big sister!"

"Excuse me!? Little sister?"

"You had another baby?" Hagakure gasps loudly.

"How? I never got pregnant! I don't even have a boyfriend nor am I seeing anyone!" You answered her back then sighed loudly. "H-hey kid, ummm, first off, are you okay?" You wanted to make sure this tiny stranger wasn't injured.

"Yes, mommy! I'm okay."

"Alright, well, I hate to tell you this but I'm not your mom. But maybe I can find her for you?"

"What do you mean? Why do you say that? Of course you're my mom!" Her eyes begin to fill with tears.

"It's just kind of impossible. Listen, you said that I had a big belly and you were waiting for your little sister, but right now, I don't have that big belly. I didn't even know you were having a sibling."

"M-mommy, are you-you j-joking? It's not funny! Waah!" Your future daughter begins to cry loudly and you immediately hug her.

"Don't cry! Everything will be alright! We're going to find your mommy, okay?" You look around the room to your classmates, sending them a pleading look.

"Hey man, that's your brat." Bakugou stuffs his hands into his pocket, about to not involve himself in your little dilemma. He didn't have patience for children at the moment.

"Bakugou!" You scolded him. "She's not a brat. She's just lost and scared.  Take it easy on her. And if you want to be a hero, help me find the kid's parents. Isn't that what a hero is supposed to do?"

"I ain't no babysitter!"

"Dude, that's not manly at all! Let's help them out." Kirishima places a hand on his blonde friend's shoulder.

"Time travel!" Midoriya blurts out of nowhere. Once he receives his classmates' confused gazes, he finally begins to clarify. "I think she's really your daughter, __(y/n). She looks a lot like you and she seems really attached to you. She must've came here from the future when that blast happened. That's the only plausible explanation."

"I'm sorry that everything is confusing and scary right now, but I think I figured out what's going on." Midoriya squats beside you and your daughter, placing his hand on her back. Your daughter sniffles a couple times before looking at the green haired boy.

"Uncle Deku? How... how come you're so small?" She wipes her eyes while he could hear a few snickering in the background.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're noticing that everyone is different. It's because-"

"Daddy!" Your daughter gasps loudly when she finally sees Todoroki. She jumps out from your arms and rushes to the dual quirk user, holding her tiny arms up to him. Todoroki blinks at the child, unsure of what to do.

"Huh? How come you're not holding mommy's hand?" She notices Todoroki's fingers linked with __(u/s).

"D-daddy?! You mean, Todoroki-kun is the father?" Midoriya shrieks at the reveal.

"W-what?" __(u/s) frowns deeply, slowly slipping their hand away from Todoroki. "You mean, you and __(y/n)? But I thought that... "

"Wait, no, that is impossible. She must have me mistaken for someone else. __(y/n) and I do not harbor any feelings for one another nor do we share any children together. Please believe me." Todoroki attempts to grab __(u/s)'s hands, but they back away quickly.

"Yeah! Shouto's right! We're only best friends. That's it. You know that. How can we have a kid together when we're not even a couple? He likes you; not me. I might be single, but I'm really not interested in anyone at the moment."

"Daddy, what is going on? I thought you love mommy?" Your poor daughter was unknowingly exacerbating the situation.

"I... I gotta go." __(u/s) starts to gather their things.

"Please, wait." Todoroki grabs their arm but they pull back suddenly.

"Don't, Todoroki. This is too much. I don't think I can continue this." He tries to plead with them to stay, but __(u/s) shakes their head. "Just, please leave me alone. And please don't contact me. Either of you." ___(u/s) eyes both you and Todoroki.

Your best friend watches sadly as __(u/s) leaves, the room being weighed down by the silent tension. It was only when Denki utters a word that brought back the noise.

"Damn... " The electric hero feels a sudden, sharp jab to his right side. He looks at the source to find Jirou glaring at him.

"Mommy? Daddy?" The little one blinks at Todoroki and then at you, uncertain of what just transpired. You knew your best friend needed space to himself for now so you decide that you would approach him later. Besides, you felt like you were responsible for his breakup. You felt too embarrassed to face him.

So instead, you focus on your little girl, gently grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side. Midoriya begins to explain to your daughter why things were so different and she slowly begins to understand.

-------

Todoroki walks outside of the dorm building, situating himself on the first few steps. His mind tortures him by replaying the scene where his relationship crumbles. He doesn't understand. What could he have done to preserve his romance with ___(u/s)?

But then his mind directs him to his future daughter. Todoroki was a bit angry, yes, but he couldn't blame the young child seeing that she came from a very different timeline. It honestly wasn't her fault.

Then who's fault was it? His? Yours?

No, it was no one's. If he was truly meant to be with you, why wasn't he jumping for joy? Because at this point in time, he was simply not attracted to you. He honestly didn't understand how you two formed a family together.

Then his mind wanders elsewhere.

Would being around you continue to ruin his future relationships? Would he truly be happy if you ended up being his lifetime partner? According to his future child, you two were going to have another one so that had to mean something.

But he didn't love you. 

Yes, he cared deeply for you and you both knew everything and anything about each other, but you and him had a different kind of bond.

Then the thought of sacrificing his friendship with you for the sake of his future relationships began to hurt his heart. But you'd understand, right? Todoroki wanted to find love eventually. He also did want to work everything out with __(u/s).

But would separating himself from you be the right answer? How would that affect the future? He felt so torn. He has a family with you in the future, but his heart does not yearn for you. And you don't love him back like that either.

Right?

As he thinks on his feelings for you, he goes back to when you two were children and when you first met. He remembers almost everything that you two shared together all the way up to the present. 

The arguments. The late night study sessions. The dangerous villain encounters. The hero internships. The cultural festival. The laughter.

Your warmth. Your kindness. Your smile.

His heart slowly starts to beat faster.

But he didn't love you, right?

#request #thank you so much for the request #i really hope you like it #boku no hero academy #boku no hero academia #my hero academy #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #toodorki shouto #todoroki #shouto #todoroki x you #x reader insert #mha x reader #boku no hero x reader #shouto x reader #i really love him #this was a really interesting request #x reader #reader insert

[ve1vetyoongi]

Mic Drop | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff

au: rapper!yoongi, photographer!oc

summary: when underground rapper min yoongi uncovers the dirty secret behind his biggest rival, your brother and hip hop champion kim namjoon’s success, he is determined to take home this year’s mic drop contest trophy no matter who he hurts along the way. you’re behind the camera, content with capturing namjoon’s picture perfect persona from the sidelines but when his hard-faced enemy Gloss, makes you realise you could be more than just the point and shoot, you start to feel your loyalties shifting.

warnings: multiple smut scenes, dirty talk, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), lots of orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, cum play, cum eating, but also tender fucking lol, very brief mention of death.

word count: 29k (rip)

rating: definitely explicit

playlist: visit my playlist page and select “mic drop.” (all links to be added later)

a/n: ahhh you don’t understand how happy i am to finally put this out into the world!!! i started writing this fic back in july and after a few rewrites (more on this at the end of the post if anyone sticks around until then) she’s finally finished eee <3 also!!! this fic is brought to you courtesy of the love yourself collab! this project has been super fun to be a part of n i wanna say thank you to everyone involved who made it such a welcoming experience! you can check out the masterlist here (link will be added later f u tumblr) to read all the other amazing fics from the incredibly talented authors in this project (literally so talented??? it’s sickening???) (im so excited to finally read them all now im done w this monster lol). all the love as always <3

Introducing Runch Randa!

The host is barely audible over the chants of your brother's name as the lights dim and the arena is sent into a haze of strobe lights.

The air is already heady with body heat and fragrant with sweat from the thousands of bodies smushed together in the pit and beyond that thousands more seated in the stands, phone lights twinkling in the darkened arena like stars. A girl in your peripheral clutches a sign with MARRY ME RUNCH RANDA scrawled in sharpie, torso clad in one of the cheap merch hoodies with your brother's face printed on the front, just like hundreds of others around her.

It's a full house. No one's surprised. The Mic Drop semi-final always creates a buzz of anticipation within the hip hop scene. But this year, with your brother Namjoon returning to compete for the trophy again, there isn't an empty seat in sight.

A buzz pulses through the crowd when the bass kicks in. It makes hearts beat faster, blood run hotter, a crescendo of screams crashing violently through room, the sheer volume enough to make the walls shake in time with the stamp of impatient feet.

It's infectious. Almost. If you hadn't been here a hundred times before, countless nights the same as this one that all started to blur into one somewhere along the line. Different crowds but the same energy, the same hum of anticipation that used to get your bones rattling, your skin hot with suspense. Now it's just routine. Now you feel nothing.

Besides, you're just here to do your job. The photographer. To take pictures, not to enjoy the show. Just like always.

Five seconds. You know Namjoon's set list like the back of your hand by now. Five seconds until he takes the stage and the crowd goes wild.

One, two, three, four...

Like clockwork, the stage lights up and there he is, face blown up in painful detail across every screen. Runch Randa. His stage name pulses through the room, a mantra, chanted until throats turn sore and mouths run dry.

Dark framed glasses cover his eyes but his stance is enough to tell you that he came here to win, his presence immediately filling the empty stage with an energy that makes it impossible to look anywhere else, even for a moment.

He is already damp with sweat, neck glistening beneath the white lights. Like routine you snap a few shots when he taunts the camera with a smirk, brushing a hand through his immaculately gelled hair teasingly, mouth turning up into a grin when the audience roars.

Runch Randa walks across the stage with the ease of someone who lives and breathes for moments like these. Grabs the microphone with two hands, shiny silver rings glinting on his fingers beneath the harsh strobe lights.

You can see his opponents in the front row, nothing but rookies, the intimidation etched into their features visible even from where you stand side stage as they swallow the bitter pill that they stand no chance against him.

Once upon a time you were the same as the wide eyed fans in the pit, filled with an admiration for your brother. He was everything you wanted to be; a whirlwind of fearless, brazen passion when he got up on stage. But things changed once Namjoon won Mic Drop, claiming the trophy at the tender age of seventeen. After that he started filling arenas. Then stadiums. And you were left behind in the ruins of his whirlwind, feeling the Namjoon you once knew slip further away as Runch Randa took center stage, viewing his perfect persona through the lens of your camera with the same sour resentment as the rookies.

Because when a familiar beat permeates the arena, you can't help but close your eyes and imagine the name the crowd screams is yours. That it's you out there instead of him. It's you pouring your heart into the lyrics that you find yourself whispering unconsciously in time with your brother.

Your lyrics.

The lyrics you wrote especially for this performance. The same lyrics that would be streamed by millions, top charts and win Namjoon another stupid trophy to add to his already elaborate collection.

The only reason Namjoon still kept you around was because he couldn't write them himself.

The track ends and the Mic Drop host crosses the stage with a grin. Namjoon's arm is thrust into the air triumphantly.

"And our first finalist is...Runch Randa!"

You snap a picture of your brother smiling victoriously.

"He's gonna win. I know it."

Namjoon's manager Jimin sidles up beside you, grin plastered to his face. It's nauseating.

"Does he ever lose?" You murmur

Runch Randa! Runch Randa! Runch Randa!

--

Mic Drop. The most highly anticipated event in the music industry for its ability to make hip hop artists stars; as well as its tendency to break them just as easily.

Fame. Money. Glory. Just a few of the reasons why rap rookies from across the globe are desperate to compete in the ruthless battle of blood, sweat and rap that is Mic Drop.

They all think they have what it takes. That they have that special something the judges are looking for. Unfortunately, most don't even make it past the auditions phase.

When your brother, Mic Drop legend Runch Randa, announced he would be ditching his celebrity status and stadium concerts to return to his underground roots and compete for the trophy again, it raised a series of questions

Why now? What did he have to prove?

Once the press got wind of the fact that your parent's, CEO'S of the most prestigious record label in the industry Big Hit Entertainment, had run into a spot of financial trouble, everyone assumed your brother's re-entry was a master plan to win the lavish cash prize afforded to competition winners. Sure, you couldn't deny that it was partly true --- Big Hit's stocks were plummeting and a lot was at stake.

Truthfully, though, you knew your brother well enough to see that Namjoon's motives were far more selfish; to put it simply, he was greedy. Fame was his drug. Once he got a taste he could never get enough.

Of course, a cheque signed and delivered by your father's hand shut any rumors down very quickly. Your parent's were good at silencing people if it meant protecting Namjoon's reputation.

Even you, their own daughter.

The name tag labelled OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHER was nothing but a cover up for the true reason you spent so much time at Big Hit -- writing each and every one of Namjoon's hit songs. A secret you were forced to keep as you watched your brother through a camera lens.

Which is how you find yourself as his strictly-invitation-only after party, an attempt at building momentum for the big final in just a few weeks time, with a camera in hand.

You're sat in the corner of the A-list club Jimin rented out for the event, swirling the deep red liquid in your glass with a bored disinterest as you watch your brother shake hands with company investors and big buck producers, most of which you'd never even heard of.

These things always seem to drag on, the clock ticking slower with each agonising second spent smiling courteously to uphold the supportive sister persona. Your feet are starting to hurt in your heels and all you want to do is hide away in the Big Hit studio and scribble down the lyrics floating aimlessly in your mind. That's the only good thing about these events -- they give you time to think, a rare relief in between your brother's busy schedules.

"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite lyricist."

A cheerful voice jolts you from your thoughts and when you blink up through the flashing lights you're met with a lazy grin belonging to Hoseok, one of the producers at Big Hit. He's an ex Mic Drop contestant himself, coming fourth and just missing out on the semi-finals three years ago. He never had the stomach for it anyway, he always says, but you never miss the rejection in his eyes.

Hoseok is also one of the only people who knows about your secret. He was hired to help you work on tracks for your brother once he made it big after all, and although he would never admit it you knew he probably had to sign a hefty NDA. Still, you were grateful to have him around — you couldn't deny you made something of a dream team together.

"Mind if I sit?" He gestures with his glass towards the empty space beside you, and you move your purse so he can squash in on the leather couch. "At least some of us are having fun, huh?" You follow his gaze to Namjoon on the dance floor, hands all over some vaguely recognizable celebrity's hips.

You grimace and swig back the remaining alcohol in your glass. "Too much fun, apparently."

Hoseok snorts, wringing his hands. "Y'know, we could get out of here if you're as bored as I am..." His words slur just slightly and you figure his confidence is a result of the amber liquor in his glass. The shy Hoseok  you know well returns quickly though as he averts his eyes when you raise a brow. "Not like that! I just thought maybe we could get a drink or something...if you want to?"

You shift awkwardly, having to shout over the booming club music for him to hear you. "I should really stay here. People might ask questions if the sister of the host just...disappears."

"Right!" Hoseok smiles sheepishly then slaps his own forehead. "Right. Forget I ever asked."

You shake your head fondly and turn back towards the dance floor just in time to see Namjoon whisper in the ear of the DJ, music cutting as he takes the mic and hops up onto the small stage to address the party.

Finally! A sign he was going to wrap up the evening for good!

He clears his throat and the huddle of mingling bodies below him fall into an expectant hush.

"Uh, so I'm not usually very good at these speech things --" He pauses and the crowd laughs. You tap your knee impatiently. "But I just wanted to say thank you. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your support. So, the next round of drinks are on me! I haven't won — yet — but its never too early to start celebrating, right?"

Namjoon raises his flute of champagne and the party-goers cheer just as a flurry of confetti drops from the ceiling. The music starts again and you're too busy picking the brightly colored paper out of your hair disgruntledly to notice the way the room suddenly quietens and the guests part down the middle like prey from a predator.

"Y/N. Look." Hoseok elbows you sharply and flies forward in his seat, whisky sloshing over the edge of his glass. "Shit! Is that--"

Is that really him? What is he doing here? He's back!

You look up just in time to see the commotion as a figure in a black hoodie weaves effortlessly to the front of the room. You don't recognise him but something about his presence gives you chills.

Namjoon is too busy throwing back his drink to notice as the man climbs the stage, his skinny jeans and high tops sticking out like a sore thumb against the sea of dress shoes and cocktail dresses. He clearly wasn't invited.

By the time your brother senses the change in the air, it's too late.

You feel your face pale, choking when the figure finally turns and lets down his hood, revealing a head of blue hair and a venomous smirk.

"Gloss?"

Namjoon turns and his smile dissolves. He just stares stiffly at the person in front of him like he's seen a ghost. In a way you suppose he has -- the ghost of his past. After all, the last time anyone saw this face was five years ago at the Mic Drop final.

It is him! It's Gloss! Why is he back?

The night that changed all of your lives. When Namjoon claimed the Mic Drop trophy and Gloss, his opponent, lost everything.

It's been years since the last time you saw Gloss but you still recognize the distinctive confidence in his gait, the way his eyes flash with something dark as he looks your brother up and down with a breathy laugh.

Namjoon is frozen, breathing heavily.

Gloss' voice is husky when he finally speaks. It makes you shiver.

"Runch Randa. Long time no see, huh?"

A beat of unbearable silence.

"What are you doing here?"

Gloss's chuckle makes Namjoon snarl. You see the way his jaw tenses and his fists clench. He's too wound up; he'll snap if you don't do something and fast.

You get to your feet but Hoseok pulls you back down sternly by the elbow. "Don't." You protest but his grip is too tight so you just fidget helplessly instead.

Something settles in the atmosphere; a nervousness that makes you itch, makes your heart pump into overdrive as you watch them draw closer, eyes narrowed like boxers in a ring, waiting for the other to make a move. Hoseok covers his eyes.

"I wouldn't start celebrating just yet, Runch. The competition has only just begun."

The crowd gasps when your brother's clenched fist swings at his smug opponent. The rapper ducks but not quite in time and you can't remember which comes first — the crunch that crackles through the speakers when Namjoon's ring-clad knuckles collide with Gloss' face or the ear splitting thump of his mic dropping to the ground.

--

The party ends abruptly. Your head spins with confusion as you watch the guests leave in shock. Seeing Namjoon up on that stage opposite his biggest opponent again makes your stomach sick, like you were reliving the events of five years ago all over again.

Deep down you had always expected this moment to come. For Gloss to return looking for revenge or something. After all, Gloss didn't just loose Mic Drop to anyone -- he lost to Namjoon, his former best friend and music partner. Namjoon and Yoongi. They were supposed to win together. But for reasons still unknown, even to you, Yoongi was disqualified moments before the final commenced, plummeting your brother into the world of fame alone.

After that, Gloss all but disappeared, his pitiful downfall nothing but a hip hop legend to those who heard it. No record deals or sponsorships or stadium tours like your brother. A legend in his own right, but for all the wrong reasons. Mic Drop banned duos from competing thereafter.

Eventually you gather the courage to head into one of the back rooms where the rappers had been hauled by security guards in hi-vis jackets after their scuffle. You can hear Jimin babbling before you even reach the door.

"What were you thinking? Punching him? You better hope the press don't get ahold of this or else you're in big trouble—"

"Let me go!" Namjoon grunts to Jimin whose face is almost as red as his own. "I'm gonna end this once and for all."

"You'll do no such thing," Jimin tuts, pushing him firmly by the shoulder so he slumps into his seat with a roll of the eyes, other hand pressing his phone to his ear. "Do you even understand the amount of damage control I'm going to have to do to? — hold on, yes, this is Park Jimin speaking..."

The room smells of disinfectant and medical gauze and you spot Namjoon instantly, surrounded by an abundance of medics. His breathing is still ragged, the vein on his neck standing to prominence, knee bouncing as he impatiently waits for his ruby knuckles to be bandaged, too engaged to notice your arrival.

To your left you're surprised to find Yoongi. He's the epitome of composure despite the heavy tension in the air. He grabs a roll of bandage and begins to patch up his own fist, eyes lighting up with something you can't put your finger on when you slide into the room.

"Well, look who decided to turn up. If it isn't Namjoon's little sister. Long time no see, Y/N."

You freeze. It's been years since you heard him say your name. It makes you feel funny.

"Yoongi." You swallow. "What are you doing here?"

His shit eating grin makes your blood boil. "I take it you haven't heard yet, then."

You roll your eyes. You should be checking on Namjoon not humoring whatever stupid motives his opponent has. "Heard what, Yoongi?"

"I'm re-entering the competition, too."

You stagger backwards. Yoongi? Re-entering the competition? Mic Drop?

"But--you were disqualified--I don't understand?"

"I was disqualified. Disqualifications are only valid for five years, according to the rule book. Who knew?" He smirks when your eyes widen. "And I think you'll find that my sentence is up. I'm gonna win this time, once and for all."

"I don't think you know what you're doing, Yoongi—"

"There's more." He licks his lips. "I know your secret."

Your heart stops, mouth running dry. You throw a glance over your shoulder. Namjoon is still engaged, swatting away a medic's ice pack with a scowl, thankfully too busy to notice when you draw closer, voice a harsh whisper. "W-what secret?"

Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle, wincing just barely when he touches a damp cloth to the cut in his lip, a red splotch forming on the fabric. "You know exactly what secret I'm talking about, Y/N. Wouldn't it be ironic if someone slipped a tip off to the judges panel about Namjoon's ghost writer—"

"Shut the fuck up Min Yoongi or I'll break your nose for real this time!" Namjoon's voice bellows behind you, making you jolt. He charges at Yoongi, lip quivering like he might make his threat a reality. "Leave her out of this!"

Yoongi's nostrils flare. "Everyone knows she's a part of this, Namjoon, whether she likes it or not!"

All eyes look your way, as if expecting you to say something, but Yoongi's words fall cluelessly on you. You hadn't so much as thought about him in years. What did you have to do with this stupid ongoing feud with your brother that he refused to let go?

You glance between them, settling for sending a blank look at Yoongi and shuffling over to Namjoon instead. Your brother seems prideful at your show of allegiance. Yoongi scoffs.

"Namjoon?" Your mouth is dry with the shock of the situation and it comes out sounding funny, like you're wary of him. A gash above his eyebrow starts to dribble crimson. "Shit, you're hurt..."

"Get off me." Namjoon shakes his shoulder violently and you gingerly remove your hand, brows furrowed at his rejection. He directs his attention to Yoongi. "And you. You want a fight? It's on."

"Joon!—" He waves you off. It's pointless anyway. When he gets this rash there's no changing his mind.

"You want to end this thing once and for all? Then let's do this. You and me. At the final."

Yoongi raises a brow. "Deal. I'd shake your hand but you might try and knock me into next week again."

Namjoon doesn't laugh.

A hoard of security guards bust into the room and head straight for Yoongi. "Finally. What the fuck do I even pay these people for?"

"Get off me!"

You place a hand on Namjoon's shoulder and find that he's trembling. Rage? Nerves? Adrenaline? All three, probably, if the vacant blackness behind his eyes is anything to go by.

You're already trailing behind your brother when you hear Yoongi's voice carry down the hall. "I'll see you at the final! When I win. Secrets always find a way to come back and bite you in the ass, Runch. You should know that better than anyone!"

--

Namjoon begs you to come as his plus one to some scummy gig Gloss is rumored to be performing at tonight. To check out the competition, he says, but you recognise the way he nibbles his lip as he does.

Fear. He'll never admit it but Namjoon is scared he’s going to lose.

You agree to join him because you think it may put his mind at rest.

As Namjoon's manager, Jimin has all sorts of connections, mumbling thank you's into the head set sitting around his ears like a permanent accessory and scribbling down the address of some club down town.

The driver your parent's hired to escort Namjoon around as a paparazzi safety precaution drops the three of you a block away; the car's black tinted windows and shiny number plate would be out of place in such a scummy part of town. The plan would only work if you went unnoticed. Namjoon couldn't risk running into a Runch Randa fangirl tonight. It was technically against the Mic Drop rules to have any intel on your opponents, after all.

You don't like to tell Namjoon that his disguise won't do much for blending in. He dons a designer cap pulled down low over his face, long black coat drowning his figure and expensive leather boots crunching against broken glass and cigarette stumps as you near the club. It's too put together to seem natural, a dead give away that he doesn't belong here among the sea of ripped jeans and septum rings and tattoo sleeves around you. Even with a patterned bandana covering half of his face, the sculpted cheekbones and piercing eyes smudged effortlessly with black eyeliner poking over the top scream celebrity.

Luckily for you, the plain dress and knit cardigan hugging your body doesn't alert the suspicions of the bouncers cross armed at the entrance.

Namjoon wrinkles his nose and prods a half empty solo cup discarded outside with his toe, Jimin practically jittering with nerves and barely avoiding a stumbling drunk as you approach the men who stand at nearly double your size. Namjoon said it was best that you acted as spokesperson tonight — the only reason he even brought you along was because nobody would know your face and your position at Big Hit allowed you to pull some strings.

Your fingers shake as you produce a photography license from your bag, heart pounding as one of the menacing bouncers raises his eyebrow beneath the deep red hue emanating from a tacky neon sign posted above the door.

Luckily the breath you're holding is leaving you in a relieved thank you as he nods, moves to the side and gestures for your entourage to dip inside with the rest of the crowd. Namjoon charges ahead into the darkness and you follow him with an awkward smile to make up for his rude demeanour.

No turning back now...

Music hits like a deafening wave, blasting from the speakers at a volume that makes the walls shiver and your head throb. The club is alive with reckless anticipation, a sea of sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor in time with the pulsing beat. The energy swallows you whole, knuckles turning white as you cling to Jimin's sleeve, letting him elbow through the throng of indistinguishable faces that glitter beneath the tacky disco ball dangling haphazardly from the ceiling.

The crowd eventually spits you back out in a quieter corner of the club, Namjoon already making a beeline for the seedy bar. "There's a whiskey sour with my name on it and it's the only thing that'll get me through this shit." He murmurs as he crosses the room and occupies a bar stool beside a couple mid heavy make out session, pulling the hat closer around his face.

With a sigh, you turn back to Jimin who is eyeing up the strip pole and the exotic dancers nearby with wide eyes. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

The italian leather couch you slump into is suspiciously sticky beneath your bare thighs. "He needs to get the apprehension out of his system," you counter. "Once he sees that there's no competition he'll be able to take him down."

"I hope you're right." Jimin is wringing his hands, not knowing what to do with them now his headset is sat on the backseat of the car a block away. "I'd hate for this to knock his confidence."

"What?" You snort. "You think Gloss might actually beat him?"

Namjoon is the best rapper around, there's no debate. Nobody could beat him. Not even Gloss.

"No." His pursed lips say otherwise. You raise a brow. Jimin lowers his voice. "Maybe. Namjoon's rash. Gets ahead of himself. If he doesn't pull it together he'll play straight into Yoongi's hands..."

"Shows starting." Your open mouth snaps shut when the cushions dip beside you and Namjoon throws his arms over the back of the couch, swirling his half empty glass with an overconfident smirk.

Jimin averts his gaze. He knows he probably said too much. Sure, you're technically his colleague but you're also Namjoon's sister, the daughter of his boss. If Namjoon had overheard his position at Big Hit could have been called into question.

You would have to grill him more about Yoongi's motives later. Namjoon was right; the show really was starting.

Lights send the club into a dizzying purple haze, a new beat rumbling through the club that makes your skin prickle. It's almost drowned out by the electricity in the air, the frantic stamping of feet, the brazen chants of a single name over and over that fills you with a funny tingly feeling.

Gloss! Gloss! Gloss!

Something about it feels dirty.

The crowd is packed tightly together in the pit now. Even from where you sit, avoiding club goers eyes on the opposite side of the room, you find your attention glued to the stage. The set up is nothing like the one your brother occupies every night; just a wooden structure, painted black at one point but scuffed and scratched by the soles of shoes that boast the history of the place. The speakers are propped on broken crates, no big LED screens or back up dancers like your parents hire out for Namjoon.

Though none of that seems to matter when your gaze falls on the sole microphone stand placed centre stage beneath a blinding spotlight. It's the only familiar parallel between the two performers. It's a symbol of an artist, of the passion that comes with being up on that stage — any stage. It belongs to a performer.

You have to peer through a sea of frantic waving hands on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the combat boots taking the stage in time with the music rushing in your ears, mouth dry at the silver rings glinting under the harsh lights as fingers curl around the microphone.

"Yoongi." Namjoon grunts beside you, back stick straight and alert now. The traces of his previous smirk have been erased, a line appearing at the bridge of his nose. "There he is."

Yoongi throws his head back, breathes in the stuffy air that carries the shouts and whistles of the crowd like it's the sweetest oxygen money can buy.

The stench of beer burns your eyes but you're scared you'll miss a glimpse of his messy blue hair, or the eyes drunk on the fierce energy pulsing through the club to stop watching even if you tried.

When his voice permeates the room it's husky, burning through you like a shot of dry whisky. Namjoon stiffens, loosens the bandana around his face so he can see better.

Is that Runch Randa?

"Namjoon..." You hiss. "People are looking."

"Shut up." He grits, jaw tightening as Yoongi's lyrics cut through the tension like a serrated knife.

The way he moves across the stage like he owns it is exhilarating, makes the blood in your veins pump hot, limbs turning to lead as the crowd hangs off his every word.

He's good. Great, even. His lyrics give you goosebumps and you realise you haven't felt like this about a performance in a long time. Passionate. Yoongi is exhilarating to watch and it shakes you to the core.

It's then that it dawns on you. The reason Namjoon feels threatened is because there is a real chance that he might loose everything.

Gloss might take the trophy once and for all.

You only rip your eyes away from the stage when you feel Namjoon stand up beside you, his body disappearing into the crowd.

You get up too. "Leave him." You watch Jimin mouth. "He's just angry, he'll calm down—"

You don't care about Namjoon, not when the air is suddenly too thick, too heavy to breathe. Not when your hands sweat and you heave with a desire to run from reality and the suffocating smell of stale cigarette smoke that made your throat burn, like you can't get your body to breathe.

"Y/N? Where are you going?"

You swear you're floating, feet never seeming to quite touch the ground as you battle against the hazy dizziness that makes the room spin, ignoring Jimin's exasperated shouts of your name as you push through the gaps between bodies and pray your sense of direction is still intact enough to pull your outstretched arms towards the exit.

--

It's dark outside when you spill out of the exit, spluttering and heaving for air.

The brick is cool against your back when you slide down a nearby wall, hugging your knees.

A deep breath. In then out. Your chest loosens, lungs begin to feel full enough again.

Until a gravelly voice rings out into the night, clearer than the thump of unintelligible music from inside the club that makes your head pound.

"So it was you I saw back there. Good to know I'm not seeing things."

Even before you lift your face from between your knees you know who it belongs to. The single person you want to see least in the world at this very moment.

"Go away." You grumble but all that follows is a low chuckle as Yoongi slumps down next to you, ensuring to leave a safe distance between your crouched bodies.

It's funny. You had been preparing yourself to see him all night but now he's actually here in front of you, your mouth is dry.

He looks the same as he always did; dark eyes that burn hot as they scan your face, cocky smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. His brow looks wearier than you remember though, too weary for a man of twenty three. The only indication that time has passed since him and your brother were best friends.

"I assume Namjoon sent you here, then?"

The mention of your brother's name offers you the courage you need to look at him directly. His forehead still gleams with sweat in the dim moonlight, hair slicked back with a red bandana. There's a ring around his eye now, black and bruised. He must have taken off the black hoodie he donned on stage, left now in only a white vest which exposes his arms and to your dismay makes your blood run a little hotter.

"He's inside. I just came along because I had to." You mumble. "I'm not his spy, you know."

"Sure as shit seems like it." Yoongi spits with an amused chuckle, head lolling on his shoulders to face you. "He worried I might tell everyone about his little secret? Or was he trying to find his own leverage?"

A hot anger boils beneath your skin, rising all the way to your cheeks. Namjoon wouldn't do that would he? He didn't play that way. He didn't need to get an upper hand on Yoongi. He just wanted to see what he was up against.

"What's your problem, Yoongi?" The smirk on his mouth never falters, something glinting behind his eyes that tells you he wants to get a rise out of you. Even so, you can't help the way your voice raises, staggering to your feet. He chuckles darkly in response. "You get off on being an asshole or something?"

"You're too naive. What's so bad about telling the truth?" He closed the space between you until he's hovering above you, breath warm against your cheek. Your heart starts to race."What's so bad about taking back what is mine?"

Your breath hitches when his hand presses into the wall beside your head, effectively cornering you beneath his chest. "You could ruin his career."

Yoongi snorts. "What? Like he ruined mine?"

A few beats of silence. His eyes scan your face and it makes your stomach feel funny. You push at his chest, sucking in a shaky breath when he backs off a little and you realise part of you is weirdly disappointed that he did.

"Yoongi I don't know what happened between you and Namjoon—"

"No. You wouldn't know." He scorns, slinging his hands in his pockets, face darker now at the mention of his feud with your brother. "Because Namjoon loves secrets right? Namjoon likes to use people, Y/N. Just like he's using you now, to get to the top. And then he'll throw you away just like he did with me, sweetheart."

"Namjoon wouldn't do that." You bite your lip, the words leaving your tongue sounding a little less sure than you intend.

"Why? What makes you think you're any different?"

"He's my brother."

"I was his brother once too, remember?" He swallows, shaking his head in disbelief at your denial. "The only blood that matters to Namjoon is the blood shed to get him to the top."

You wrap your arms around your torso instinctively. Yoongi's words cut too deep. Maybe something inside of you thought Yoongi was right?

No. You came here to protect Namjoon yet here you were allowing his enemy to get inside your head.

"Fuck you, Min Yoongi." You spit, enjoying the way his eyes widen at the venom lacing your tone. "I made a mistake coming here."

Before you could brush past him and escape the heat  running through your blood stream which feels fuzzier than hatred should, a hand curls around your wrist.

"Shit. Looks like someone's on your trail."

A quick glance over your shoulder reveals none other than Jimin, face hidden by the visor of his black cap but recognisable none the less. He speaks a few words to the bouncer, probably asking if they saw you come out.

"Oh no."

The bouncer gestures in your direction. Jimin's eyes pause for a second as they skim across your form stood rigid with shock and your heart falls out of your ass when he starts in the direction of where you stand way too close to Yoongi unable to move a single muscle as you brace for discovery. To pay for your betrayal of your brother.

"You coming or what?" Yoongi snaps you back to reality with a tug on your arm, feet stumbling over each other as he drags you behind him further down the alley and around a nearly pitch black corner, too far away from the street lights to be basked in their orange glow.

"What the fuck, Yoongi?" You try to shrug out of his grasp, heart beating faster when you see the flat look on his face. "Let go of me!"

Yoongi comes to an abrupt halt. "Listen, I'm trying to save your ass here. You want to get caught? Go on then! Not my problem."

You nibble your lip, glancing one way at the dark alley and the other at Jimin pacing up and down the street with furrowed brows.

"Just trust me, Y/N."

Jimin's footsteps get closer and closer. It's now or never.

Tightening your jaw, you turn back to Yoongi and nod. The words feel foreign as they pass your lips. "I...trust you."

With that, Yoongi grabs your hand and breaks into a sprint

Turning the corner, the alley meets a dead end. The back of the club is just as run down as the front, littered with cracked beer bottles and cigarette stumps. The sign above the door labelled NO ENTRY doesn't offer any light and apparently Yoongi doesn't listen to directions because he fishes in his back pocket for a key, sliding the bolt and pushing on the bar to hold the door open with a small nod for you to go inside first.

With a deep breath, you do.

The door closes behind you with a jingle of chains, cutting off the slither of moonlight it provided and sending you into complete darkness. You hear Yoongi slide the bolt back across and then he fumbles for you in the darkness, your body pulled down next to his with a yelp so that you're out of direct view of the window which looks inside the room.

"I think they followed us." His voice is silk but there's an underlying insinuation. Be quiet.

Yoongi's eye level now, knees squeezed up against yours in the cramped space beneath the window ledge. Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, able to see the way he scans your face when he thinks you aren't looking. The way he grumbles and looks away when you catch him.

There's not time to dwell as you hear footsteps turn the corner, tracking all the way to the door where the bolt rattles, a sleeve wiping the window and pressing a cupped face to the glass.

"She's not here, man. You must have seen someone else."

It was Hoseok. You'd recognise his voice anywhere. Countless all nighters in the studio together does that to a person. Had Jimin called him all the way down here to look for you?

Jimin chimes in quickly. "I could have sworn it was her..."

The voices trail off as they retreat back down the alley, around to the front of the club.

A sigh escapes you, head falling against the wall in relief. When you open your eyes Yoongi is looking at you again. There's something pained in his expression, unspoken words visible in the way he bites his cheek to stop them from spilling out into the darkness.

His fingers are still wrapped around your arm, an electricity buzzing through your veins when you feel him lean in closer, pulling you towards him just barely.

His lips. Chapped and so close to yours. God. You think you want to kiss them. Just to know how it feels. You've never seen them up this close before. Not close enough to feel his hot breaths puffing against your forehead. Not close enough that if you just lifted your chin a little bit...

Yoongi lets out an embarrassed cough, jolting you out of your thoughts. "That was a close one, huh?" The spot where his hand resided feels cold when he rips it away.

Yoongi's face is wiped of any emotion again. He's not completely slick though as when he finally speaks again he sounds husky, the betrayal in his voice surprising even him.

"Are you okay?"

What were you supposed to say to that? I almost got caught with my brother's enemy and then thought about kissing said enemy. No, I don't think I am okay.

"Fine. Thanks."

Yoongi offers you a hand, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him before he leans across your body to flick on the lights.

The yellowish stream burns your eyes but allows you to take in the room around you. There's a keyboard in the corner, piles of sheet music strewn across the wooden desk beside it. A pair of speakers hooked up to a worn looking sound machine. A mic and a pair of headphones slung over the back of the mismatch wheely chair tucked beneath a desk.

A studio.

He must notice the way you look around with wide eyes, redness creeping up his neck as he busies himself by kicking some of the clutter on the floor behind the desk. "Wasn't expecting guests."

It definitely wasn't the high tech producing set up you were provided with back at Big Hit, no hifi system or fancy computer programmes. The furniture was mismatch, like someone had collected a bunch of spare puzzle pieces and shook them up in the box until they made a picture.

Somehow of the pieces still manage to seem somehow inherently Yoongi; the basketball tee with GLOSS on the back draped over his chair, even the empty water bottles overflowing in the trash can. The tiny framed picture of a younger looking Yoongi next to a woman you think you recognise but can't quite put your finger on.

"Genius lab?" You snort, nodding towards the sign hanging haphazardly above the monitor.

Yoongi shrugs. "What can I say? It's true."

"Confident." You muse.

You share a smile. It's strange. Familiar. The way his eyes crinkle and even the husk of the chuckle that follows reminding you of when things were good, back when you considered Yoongi to be a sort of friend. Before things got fucked up.

"You'll take it back when I win."

Old habits might not die hard but the rational part of your brain registers the implication of his words, even beneath his playful facade. The studio suddenly feels cold. Nostalgia dissipates. You remember why you're here.

"Why didn't you just let them find me?"

"You know as well as I do that Namjoon risks getting disqualified if Jimin causes a scene and gets himself caught snooping around here."

You huff an exasperated breath. For all Yoongi's talk of  having the upper hand he sure did seem reluctant to use it. "Isn't that what you want? What's stopping you? Want to drag it out or something?"

Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, crossing the room and ducking into a drawer in the far corner. He returns with two glasses and a murky bottle of something strong, already a quarter empty as he pours some out. He offers the second glass towards you but you wave it away.

"Suit yourself." He takes a swig of the dark liquid, squeezes his eyes shut. "Because I want to win fair and square."

You shake your head. "All of this. Just for a stupid trophy?"

He eyes you over the rim of his glass, swirling the liquid with an overconfidence that makes you grit your teeth in annoyance. "So Namjoon knows how it feels to lose something he loves." He looks you up and down then, coughing and turning his head when you notice it. "Yeah. I guess it's for the trophy."

Yoongi is despicable, you think. Is he really so fame hungry that he will destroy anyone standing in his way to get it? Even Namjoon? Sure, your brother has his faults but if there is one thing you know it's that he loves being on that stage. What happened between them that makes Yoongi think he deserves it more?

"So its a revenge thing, then. And what if you lose, huh?" The way your voice raises makes you wince. Yoongi slams his glass down and flashes you an are you serious face.

"Y/N don't you see? I have nothing to lose. Namjoon already took everything. My life, my family, my fame. Everything. You know how it feels to have it all dangled in front of your face? And then get it ripped away like it was never yours to begin with?"

Yes. You'd never tell him that, of course. But you did know. You had to watch Namjoon perform your songs every night through a camera lens. Snapping shots of him in his element and wishing those picture perfect moments were yours. What did Yoongi know?

"I see him on the big screen, on stages I dreamed of. Crowds screaming his name. It was supposed to be me, Y/N. Meanwhile I'm sat here," Yoongi gestures to the shabby studio you find yourself in, liquid sloshing over the edge of his glass. "In clothes I printed myself, making music in a shitty club for free because nobody will even listen to my shit."

He's panting by the end of his spiel, knuckles pressed to his eyes as he tries to regain his composure before he lets too many of his weaknesses show. Something resonates inside you, softening the anger towards him with what you recognize as sympathy.

"Then why do you still do it? Make music?"

"Because it's the only thing that never left me alone."

You sigh. While you're collecting your thoughts something catches your eye — a Polaroid picture, tacked onto the plasterboard behind his computer. It's of a smiling Yoongi and much to your surprise, a smiling Namjoon, arms wrapped around each other like nothing could ever break them apart. You briefly wonder why he kept it, if he hated Namjoon so much.

You turn to him again.

"Don't make me regret saying this but you're good, Yoongi. Like really good. Your performance earlier it was...amazing. I mean that."

Yoongi's stern eyes soften with surprise. He almost seems pained, like the simple compliment means more to him than you expected.

"So, you don't have to do this. Big Hit has connections, I could get in touch with a couple record labels--"

He stiffens again. "What? Are you my manager now? As if any record label would take a chance on the biggest Mic Drop loser in history, Y/N, don't talk shit."

You trail off. It's true and you know it.

He swallows hard. "You know what I think? I think you're here because you know that I might actually win this thing. As much as Namjoon knows how to play dirty he doesn't have the talent. He never did! That's why he's using you to write his material." His laugh makes you shiver. "How can he even call himself an artist? It's pathetic."

That's all it takes for your patience to snap. Is the way your blood boils with a sudden and insatiable rage because of the way he bad mouthed your brother? Surely you didn't actually believe him? No, everything he said was a lie -- it had to be.

Your hand curls into a fist, anger spilling over as you charge at him full force. Yoongi barley flinches, his fingers deftly curling around your wrist before it can meet his jaw and pulling you into him at the waist so he can slot his bottom lip between yours.

"Fuck yo— hmf?"

Your eyes widen as you register his slightly chapped lips moving against your own, remnants of the amber liquid he poured down his throat earlier sour on your tongue, a surprised gasp leaving you when Yoongi flips your bodies and slams your back roughly against the wall, settling himself between your legs.

"Gonna finish what Namjoon started, sweetheart?" When he pulls back you're panting, eyes trained to his parted lips with wonder.

He kissed you. Yoongi kissed you. For real.

His warm breath still mingles with yours as you try to choke a response, anything. Yoongi's eyes have a dark glint to them and god you should hate him for winding you up like this but being this close to him just feels too good.

Then, before you can think better of it, you grab his collar with your free hand and smash your lips together in a tangle of teeth and tongue that makes your entire body burn with relief.

The groan he lets out against your mouth tells you he wants this too. "Fuck, couldn't help myself." He pants. "You're driving me crazy."

You feel a dampness throb between your legs when his hands tangle in your hair, lips never leaving yours as he pulls you across the room and drops into his chair.

A whimper is pulled from your lips when his palms cup the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, though it's not in protest, dizzy with desire when he pulls you into his lap and bucks his hips so that his half hard cock brushes against your clothed heat.

"See what you do to me?" He pulls back to smirk at your swollen lips, a much needed breath entering your lungs, filling you with another bout of restless desire as Yoongi's eyes scan your face hungrily. It feels too good even though it should be so wrong.

"W-we shouldn't." Your mouth is dry, words coming out a little unsure which gives away just how much you want to keep going. "What if--"

A particularly harsh thrust of his hips makes you moan softly, head falling into the crook of Yoongi's neck. He growls when he catches sight of the growing wet patch on the front of his jeans, testament of his effect on you as much as you hated to admit it.

"What if Namjoon finds out?" His hand shoots between your legs, pads of his fingers tracing your clothed core, the coarse lace of your panties adding a delicious layer of friction against your folds. The delicate touch sets your body alight, skin burning to let go and submit to the feeling despite the voice in the back of your mind screaming no!

"What if Namjoon finds out that I make you this wet?" Your panties are sticking to your heat by now so it would have been futile to deny it. He smiles smugly when your legs shake and you throw an arm around his neck to keep your balance.

"S-shut up." It's meek and it only makes him laugh darkly, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer to nibble on the lobe of your ear.

If you didn't know any better you would think he was unaffected by this. Your chest heaves with desire and your hands itch with a yearning to touch him but Yoongi appears the epitome of composure, maintaining sinful eye contact as he pulls your panties to the side. The only give away is the way his cock twitches against your leg with each jerk of his hips, a funny sense of pride erupting in your chest knowing that he wants you too.

Open mouthed kisses drag down your jaw, lingering at your neck. His teeth nibble at the sensitive skin, tongue laving out to soothe the sting and it feels too good to worry about the bruises his sinful lips leave behind as a reminder of your weakness Namjoon could never know of.

"Look so pretty marked up, sweetheart." The pet name makes your clit throb, head throwing back as his mouth attacks the sensitive spot on your neck like he knew it was there all along. It's almost concerning how quickly he has you falling apart in his lap. How easily he turned you into a shuddering mess, barely able to form coherent sentences in between breathy gasps at the sensation of him making you his for all to see. "Show everyone that you're mine, hm?"

When Yoongi removes his hand from your core you slap a hand over your mouth to stop a whine of protest from escaping. Yoongi's eyes narrow, palming his bulge through his trousers as he watches you writhe in his lap with amusement, every twist of your hips falling short and providing no relief for your pulsing clit, already missing the feeling of his hand cupping your mound and considering how it would feel skin on skin—

Oh god. What am I doing?

You let out a groan, but not the good kind.

"What?" Yoongi seems to read your mind, snapping you back to reality when he pulls your panties to the side. He circles your entrance teasingly and you can't help the way you whimper. "Don't act like you don't want to sink down on my cock, Y/N. You could ride me right here and nobody would ever know."

"H-how can I trust you?" It would ruin Namjoon if he found out. He was already stressed, already growing distant from you. This had to stop before it went too far. Before there was no going back.

"Because I can make you feel like this." A lithe finger slides into your heat, easy because of how you drip over his hand. "Think about how much better my cock would stretch you out, hm?"

Each drag of his finger against your velvety walls has you squeezing your eyes shut. The sensation is overwhelming, and when he adds a second digit  you feel your repose crumble. Lust seems to crash over you like a wave, clouding your thought with a hazy desire to just give in and let Yoongi take you, uncaring about the repercussions now as you push down to meet his thrusts so he hits deeper than before.

"Fine." Your words are slurred, too busy chasing the feeling between your legs to see the way it makes Yoongi's eyes light up. "J-just hurry up and fuck me Yoongi."

"Well well," Yoongi settles back against the wall, looking between your bodies to watch the way his fingers disappear into your soaking cunt with an expression almost primal, his own breathing ragged now as he tries to resist turning you over and fucking you into tomorrow then and there. "Never thought I'd actually get to hear my name on your lips like this. Say it again."

A sharp flick of his wrist has you falling against his chest, pulsing around him. "Yoongi!"

"That's right," He licks his lips, free hand unzipping his jeans to relieve the pressure on his length. "Me. Yoongi." The way he mimicks your breathless tone makes a hot blush rise in your cheeks, aware of just how fucked out you must seem right now but too horny to care. "Been waiting for this. Ah shit!"

You take it upon yourself to hurry along the process by reaching into the waistband of his boxers to wrap a hand around the shaft of his cock. It pulses at your touch, the pace of Yoongi's fingers in your cunt stuttering as he flies forward, knuckles on the hand gripping your thigh turning white as he tries to regain some control while you stroke him firmly.

"Fuck your hands. Sinful. Knew they would be. God you're going to kill me if you keep this up, I swear." The worlds tumble from his mouth in one heaving breath as you twist your palm around his sticky head, enjoying the way his thighs twitch with a want to buck into your fist and his nose flares with the effort it takes to resist.

His cock feels girthy in your palm, hot and heavy as you help him shimmy his jeans around his thighs. When his cock slaps back against his stomach, impossibly hard and leaking with anticipation you feel your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" He almost taunts.

You bite your lip. "I don't think you're gonna fit."

It must have brushed his ego because the tip seemed to flush an even deeper shade of red. "Wanna sit on it and find out?"

A nod is all it takes for Yoongi to slide your panties to the side, slapping your hands away to grip the base of his cock and line it up with your entrance.

You both groan in unison when he pushes into your heat, the stretch burning with every inch, fingers clutching the fabric of his tank top at the sensation of finally being full.

"Fuuuck." You see his tongue snake out to wet his bottom lip when his hips finally join flush to yours, hair sticking to his already damp forehead as he allowed you to adjust. "So fucking tight for me, princess."

His cock throbs impossibly deep inside you when you unconsciously clench around it, feeling your face flush as you whimper for him to get on with it and fuck you already.

"Shh, patience." His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, setting it free with a pop. "Move."

At his command you do, bracing yourself on his shoulders. You raise up, feeling every ridge of his length until just the tip remains inside your heat. Then you are slamming back down and flushing at the groan which tumbles from his chest.

"Such a slut, taking my cock so well." His palms feel hot on your hips, dragging you up and down through the motion that has you panting.

Yoongi looks utterly amazed at the visual of you sinking down onto his length, unable to stop the satisfied grin settling into his features when you cry out after a particularly deep thrust. "Imagine if Namjoon could see you now. Falling apart on my cock?"

"Can we — hnng — not talk about my brother when you're in my fucking guts?"

"Why?" A whine leaves you when he slips out of your cunt, grabs you by the ass, and hoists you to your feet, roughly bending you over the desk until your cheek presses against the cold surface. Yoongi tugs your hands behind your back, cock already sinking back into your heat before you can protest at the emptiness. "Worried he'll think you're a slut for taking my cock when I'm the one whose going to fucking end him?"

"Yes!" You cry, unable to hold back now as you feel his cock hit deeper than before with every ram inside you that fills the room with the slapping sound of his pistoning hips, brushing your sweet spot each time and making the coil in your stomach tighten.

God, this is so wrong and you know it. You know it shouldn't feel so good when Yoongi's hands tangle in your hair, pulling you so that your back arches flush against his sweaty chest. Know how many people would be hurt if they knew how much you love it, how you push back into his thrusts, eager for more.

"Shit, you're squeezing so tight." His voice sounds strained now, thrusts turning sloppy as you feel him shudder. "Close, shit. Where can I—"

"Inside me. Want you to f-fill me."

"Holy sh— always wanted to hear you say that. Okay, fuck."

A few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling inside you, the feeling of his release coating your walls enough to have you falling over the edge unexpectedly too, vision turning black as you cum with a cry.

The only sound that fills the silence is your heavy breaths mingling with his as your arms give out. You're silently grateful, as much as you hated to admit it, for the strong arm around your torso that holds you to him when your legs turn to jelly.

Yoongi slips out of you, admiring the way his cum leaks down your trembling thighs. The emptiness makes you keen, clenching around nothing.

"Made such a mess of you, kitten."

The sound of his zipper makes your heart sink, stiffening as he tucks his spent cock back into his pants. For a second you think he's going to leave you like this, shame caressing your cheeks as you envision how fucked out you must look.

But then, Yoongi's palms are back on your thighs as he kicks the chair from under his desk and pushes you roughly onto the cushion. "Think you can go again for me, princess?"

"Wha--?" His swollen lips make you loose your words, the way his tongue tantalizingly caresses your bottom lip drawing a choked whine from your throat instead.

"Fuck, always thought you'd make such pretty noises." It's mumbled gruffly under his breath, like he's confirming it with himself rather than addressing you. He pulls back to stare at you spread out for him, lidded eyes widening at the visual of your skirt pooled around your waist, legs kept open by the rough grip around your thigh that exposes your swollen slit. The way your arousal drips down your inner thighs along with his own release has him swallowing thickly. "Like being filled with my cum, huh? Such a slut."

Yoongi traces his fingers up your inner thighs, thumb applying a gentle pressure to your clit, legs struggling to fall shut around his hand to escape the over stimulation. "P-please Yoongi, I can't."

"You will." It's growled against your neck, hot breath making you shudder. "I know you can take it."

A knee slips between your thighs, holding them open so his fingers can deftly continue their brutal attack on your sensitive folds. Each drag of his knuckle up your slit makes you whimper, the way the pads of his fingers rub firm circles into your clit making it pulse. The feeling is more intense than before, borderline agonizing as a warmth builds in the pit of your stomach again.

Eventually the pain starts to dissipate, turns into something closer to pleasure when you feel a single digit slip into your heat, the slide made easy by the fact that his cock had already stretched you out and his release lubed you up nicely. Each pump makes a lewd squelching noise that has you biting your lip to stop from groaning unabashedly, Yoongi's gaze fixed to the sight of his knuckles disappearing inside you.

When you buck up into his touch again, desperately circling your hips to try and grind your clit against the heel of his hand, Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle. The muscles in your cunt tighten, skin damp with sweat as you fuck yourself on his hand in search of a second high that burns ever closer.

"Look at you, all needy again from just one finger. All fucked out again even after I stretched you out."

With that Yoongi removes his hand from your heat all together, leaving you gasping and clenching around nothing as your release falls farther away, unable to resist the groan of frustration that passes your lips.

"Don't stop!" Your head lolls back against the chair, thighs trembling with desperation to feel his touch again. "I was so close--"

"Suck." Yoongi raises his fingers to your lips. You notice the way they gleam, sticky and white in the studio lighting. The pads of his fingers smear the wetness across your swollen lips as he pushes for entry which you gave to him eagerly, humming around the digits. "Be a good girl, hm?"

He all but groans when your eyes flutter open and lock with his, tongue swirling around his fingers teasingly, enjoying the taste of your own arousal mixed with the saltiness of his cum, almost in sensory overload at the thought of how much better his cock would feel in your throat.

"That's it." A knuckle drags down your cheek possessively, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good girl."

A sticky trail of spit follows Yoongi's fingers when they leave your mouth with a lewd pop, your breaths coming out shaky and desperate as you watch his eyes zone in on your aching core.

The sight of him dropping to his knees is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, whimpering when his hot breath grazes over your throbbing clit. "Wanna taste you for myself."

And with that his tongue runs a rough stripe up your slit, eyes falling shut as he hums against your folds contentedly.

"Fuck Yoongi!" Your eyes roll back as he laps a few teasing licks across your bud, body turning to putty when his hands roughly pull you down the chair so that he can attach his mouth to your mound fully.

A guttural moan rises from his chest when you grind your core against his face, knuckles turning white as you clutch he chair like it's the only thing keeping you grounded, stopping you from floating away and losing yourself to the feeling of Yoongi's tongue teasing your already wrecked hole. An impatience rises in your stomach every time his nose grazes your clit, pushing your hips more forcefully to chase the relief it brings.

"So eager." You knew he'd have a smirk on his face if his lips weren't already occupied, wrapping around your clit and sucking with just the right amount of pressure to have your fingers tangling in the blue locks that spill loose from his bandanna now, holding him to your core so that you can rock against his tongue easier.

"Close sweetheart?" The way your chest heaves and little gasps spill past your lips as you chase your high must give away the effect he is having on you. You nod breathlessly and to your surprise Yoongi places a chaste kiss to your folds before pulling back all together, leaving you writhing and desperate for him to make cum for the second time. "Did I give you permission?"

Your heart beats furiously as your release slips away once again. Yoongi only stares at you intently. His lips glisten with a mixture of both of your releases and the thought alone makes your core ache. A loose shake of your head makes his eyes darken, licking some of the dampness from around his lips. "Gotta use your words, baby. Did I say you could cum?"

Dizzy with arousal, your words sound slurred and alien to your own ears. "N-no."

"Good. Now ask nicely."

"Please." It comes out whinier than you anticipate but Yoongi's hands twitch against the flesh of your thighs, giving away the fact that he likes it despite the way his mouth presses into a tight and unforgiving line. "Can I cum? Please?"

A deep laugh leaves his bitten lips. "I don't think you deserve it." His head dips back down between your legs, sloppy kisses pressed to each of your thighs as he edges ever closer to your dripping core. "I want you to count, okay?"

"O-oh, okay." He attacks your clit again, tongue swirling where his teeth graze across the pulsing bud. You're so sensitive that you're sure just the light brushes of his lips will send you over the edge if he keeps going.

"G-gonna cum if you--"

"Don't." The authority in his voice makes you gasp. "Didn't I say to count? One."

"Fuck!" Hot tears streak your cheeks when he pulls back so just his hot breath ghosts across your glistening folds. "I..I was so close!"

"Hey, hey." His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek, a strangely gentle action in comparison to the bruising grip on your thigh. "You're doing so good. Trust me, okay? Wanna make you feel good."

For the second time that night you nod, putting all your trust into him for reasons you are too fucked out to dwell on there and then.

When his tongue snakes out to tease your clenching hole again it draws an agonizing cry from you, the coil already tightening in your belly. You shut your eyes.

"Don't" The hand on your chin tightens, forces you to look down at where his face is buried between your legs, authority lacing his words again. "Keep your eyes on me."

As soon as you lock eyes he gets to work again, humming out a "good girl" before you're losing yourself again to his tongue and he has to plant your feet down roughly to stop your hips from bucking too much.

Before you know it your clit's throbbing again and you're about to fall over the edge but before you can even let Yoongi know he's pulling back with a pant, practically gasping for air but still flashing you a shit eating grin. "Didn't think I was going to let you, did you sweetheart?"

"Two." You manage to breathe. "Two!"

By now you're sick of the teasing, a hand coming between your own legs to finish yourself off, ready to come undone whether Yoongi likes it or not. Before you can get your way, Yoongi's swatting your hand away. "Desperate slut. Wanna cum that bad huh?"

"Please!" You practically whimper.

That seems to do it for him, his eyes glazing over with what you recognise as lust. As if the last of his self control just snapped. Anticipation makes your blood run hot.

"Then make it to three and we'll see if I'm feeling nice."

"Shit!" Yoongi's tongue plunges into your heat with a new found eagerness, thrusting in and out like a man deprived. You manage to maintain eye contact this time, falling apart at the way he groans in appreciation when he tastes himself, fucking your hole with his tongue mercilessly like he wants to get every last drop of his cum.

His thumb finds your clit and the coil in your lower belly tightens too rapidly for you to comprehend, tugging on his hair as you cry out. "Yoongi!"

"Cum for me."

His permission is all it takes to have you falling over the edge into a shattering orgasm that makes your vision turn black, mind wiped of any hesitation and guilt and replaced with a single word, over and over again: Yoongi.

When you finally take a gasping breath, he's there, rubbing encouraging circles into your hips and leaving kisses across your stomach that makes something in your chest warm, heart beating a little faster and not just from your orgasm.

"So fuckin' pretty when you cum." You're sure that's what he murmurs against your damp skin. "Can't believe I had to wait this long."

You furrow your brow. Yoongi sits back against his heels, wiping your arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you a lazy but satisfied smile, looking awfully pleased with himself. Like this was his biggest dream come true.

It dawned on you that it probably was in someways -- what better way to get back at an old friend than by fucking his sister?

You suddenly feel like an idiot for letting him charm you, guilt washing through you, flying forward when your chest aches with regret.

Yoongi notices how you pale. "Are you okay? If that was too much then I'm really sorry--"

"Too much?" You suddenly feel exposed beneath his gaze, shuffling around to pull your skirt around your thighs, eyes roaming the room hurriedly for your panties so you can get out of here and quick. "This is all too much, Yoongi."

"What?" He puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you as you brush past him but the way you jolt at the touch makes him rip it away like he touched a live wire.

"I...shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake."

Namjoon's face was embedded in your mind. The way his eyes would crumple with betrayal if he found out you came here at all -- let alone let Yoongi take you so intimately. And you hadn't even tried to stop yourself from falling into him, gave in to your emotions too easily and allowed Yoongi to use you as a swipe at your own brother.

"Why? Didn't seem so upset when you were coming on my tongue." The scoff in Yoongi's voice makes you freeze.

"I can't stop you from hurting Namjoon," Your lip quivers and you have to press your nails into your palms to stop the tears spilling over. "But do you really have to hurt me, too?"

"Y/N, wait--"

Your hands shake as you grab your bag and head for the door. "Shit happened between you and my brother, I get it. But we were friends once, Yoongi. Doesn't that mean anything to you? We can't see each other again."

Your tears are warm in contrast to the cold evening air as you take off into a run, needing to get as far away from Yoongi and the evidence of your own betrayal as possible.

By the time you stumble back into the Big Hit company building, the studio is empty. To your surprise, words seem to flow out of you easier than they ever had before, a heart shaped stain appearing on the formerly empty page of your notebook.

--

Sleepless nights were becoming your norm. You had barely slept a wink since that night, not when every thought was plagued with guilt, the same name running circles around your mind, the same dark eyes and swollen lips and messy hair tauntingly appearing in your mind whenever your head hit the pillow.

Yoongi.

That night with Yoongi felt something like a dream, a hazy memory, the only evidence of it being real the fact that every time you closed your eyes you could feel the way Yoongi's hands burned your skin, how his lips moved perfectly in sync with your own.

As much as you knew it was a mistake, something that should have never happened, you couldn't help the way your heart throbbed every time you replayed it over and over in your mind, repeatedly, until you felt like you were going insane with guilt. It was eating you alive. But sometimes you would remember the way you felt when he was pressed up against you and every ounce of regret felt worth it.

You hated yourself for it, and you knew your brother would hate you to, if he ever found out.

He could never find out.

So, you take to avoiding Namjoon altogether. It wasn't that hard really, you knew his schedule well enough to be a step ahead of him at all times, and it wasn't as if he was enthusiastic about your company to begin with.

Of course sometimes your paths have to cross, but you still can't look Namjoon in the eyes when you slip into one of the Big Hit practice rooms where you know you'll inevitably find him.

The music hits before you even open the door. Namjoon is dressed in casual clothes, cap pulled down low over his face as he raps into a mic, the way his voice husks a tell tale sign that this was not the first time he'd gone over the same verse.

He seems stiffer than usual, all elbows and knees as he scrutinises his own form in the wall to floor mirror. You've seen him perform this choreography flawlessly hundreds of times so your brow furrows with confusion each time his feet miss a beat or his knees literally buckle under the pressure.

On the far side of the room sits a row of men and women in formal suits. Investors, brought in to bet on the contestant most likely to win. They watch Namjoon with intent eyes, some shaking their heads in disapproval, others whispering insults below their breaths.

Is that really Runch Randa? Pfft, he'll never win with footwork like that.

Jimin stands close by, hopping from one foot to the other and wincing with every mistake Namjoon makes. He's been making desperate phone calls for the last week, pleading with any investor he could get ahold of to take a chance on Namjoon which was hard to come by after the royal media fuck up the other day at the after party.

This was Namjoon's only chance at a do over — he needed their money if he wanted to win this thing. The judges were expecting a show from him. Smoke machines and good lighting are expensive, after all.

Namjoon, however, only seems interested in the reactions of your parents sat in the back row, expressions grave. He's chastising himself, self loathing evident in his eyes every time he stutters over a lyric. He knows how hard they worked to establish Big Hit and the disappointment in their eyes as it slowly slips through Namjoon's fingers like sand makes even you feel jittery with nerves.

For a brief moment you're grateful that you are practically invisible in this room, no eyes even glancing your way as you join them. You're glad that Namjoon takes the brunt of the pressure. You never were the strong sibling after all.

The music cuts, Namjoon coming to a stand still. He crumples at the knees, forehead pressed against the polished linoleum floor as he tries to catch his breath.

Jimin slumps into a chair, head in hands. That tells you all you need to know.

Investors leave the room, some sending apologetic looks towards Jimin with a shrug. Others deposit their cheque books back into their briefcases, taking pity on the pleading smiles and firm handshakes from your parents when they apologise for Namjoon's lacking performance. One even pats Namjoon on the back, following the small crowd as they leave the room. "Take a break, buddy."

Nearly everyone has filtered out before Namjoon gets to his feet shakily, slumping down into a seat beside you. You don't acknowledge him, afraid of what you might let slip if you do, fiddling with your camera as a distraction.

It's him who breaks the silence.

"How's the song coming along?" He seems disinterested, clicking his knuckles with no real intention of listening to your response.

"Fine." Another lie. It wasn't coming along at all, really, but now is probably not the best time to tell him when his nerves are already heightened by his failure to gain any crucial investments.

His eye is still slightly swollen from the fist fight a few days ago, a permanent line forming at the bridge of his nose that wasn't there before. You almost didn't recognise him. He stares at his own broken reflection in the steamed practice room mirrors vacantly, like he doesn't  even recognise himself.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass. Namjoon's heavy breathing slows to a regular pace.

"I know you went to see him."

It echos menacingly through the room and you stiffen, clutching the floor beneath you for support. Namjoon's hard eyes still don't look your way but you see him analysing your reaction in the mirror. The way your mouth gapes speechlessly tells him everything he needs to know.

"Not even gonna try and deny it?" His head shakes in disbelief.

You throb with guilt. "H-how did you find out?"

"I have people everywhere keeping an eye on him, Y/N. You're lucky the paparazzi didn't catch you, because it sure as shit looked shady. My own sister," He scoffs around the word, as if it tastes bad in his mouth. "Siding with him?"

You place a hand on his forearm, surprised to find him shaking beneath your touch. "I'm not siding with him, Namjoon."

"Then what are you doing?" He roars, ripping his arm away.

What was I doing? You don't even know yourself.

It takes everything inside you to keep the expression on your face neutral, to wipe away the regret and the sadness and the fear that makes your voice wobble.

"We just talked." You had to avert your gaze, scared that somehow your disingenuous eyes would give away what really happened with Yoongi — a little more than talking to say the least.

"About what?"

"The secret, okay? I wanted to protect you—"

"Protect me?" Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. "How is meddling in business that doesn't even concern you protecting me, Y/N?"

"Have you forgotten that what you're — we're — doing is against Mic Drop rules? That you could be disqualified or...worse! Get your trophy revoked?"

"Pfft. Yoongi won't say anything.."

"What makes you so sure?"

"It's me he wants to hurt. I know him, Y/N. He'd never forgive himself if you—" He eyes you carefully. "If anyone else got dragged into this. It's between me and him, that's it."

Your head is spinning. You remember a time when things weren't this way, back when Yoongi and Namjoon were friends. Partners. What happened between them that made them so hell bent on destroying one another?

"There are things about Yoongi that you will never understand, Y/N. Things he did that can never be forgiven."

It briefly crosses your mind that if Namjoon could cut Yoongi, his best friend, out of his life, just how easy it would be for him to do the same to you if he found out just how unforgivable your betrayal was. A funny feeling pools in your stomach, a distance settling between you and Namjoon as, to your dismay, you realise just how much you have in common with your brother's enemy.

"But what about you, huh? Why should he forgive you? You took everything from him! I'm not surprised he's back to kick your ass. If you ask me it's him who should be holding a grudge—"

Namjoon's hands clamp onto your shoulders and you recoil from the contact. You're breathing hard, the tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill over any second.

"Listen to me. He's trying to get in your head. You need to stay away from him Y/N. He's bad news."

"Tell me why! Help me understand!"

Namjoon's face is grave. "Some secrets are best kept that way. It'll only make it worse if I tell you."

Before you can protest he's striding across the room and hitting the play button on the boom box in the corner, music blasting from the speakers again.

"Joon—"

"Just stick to taking pictures and stop getting involved in business that doesn't concern you."

Then his body is twisting across the room in time to the music with an intensity he didn't possess before. Like a machine on autopilot.

You shove your camera into your bag and let the door slam shut behind you.

--

"We were a mistake."

The cursor flashing on the empty document on your computer screen feels like it's taunting you.

"Please don't tell my brother what we did."

You've been like this for the last week. Holed up in one of the tiny studios at the Big Hit company building, head swimming with beats and melodies and lyrics that just won't seem to fit together. Not when your mind is preoccupied with a more pressing issue.

"Are you thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you?"

Yoongi.

God, how are you supposed to write this song for Namjoon when all you can think about is his enemy?

You don't know why you're still so hung up on Yoongi. It's not as if what happened between you meant anything. It was just a spur of the moment mistake. You were both tense and needed someone to help blow off some steam. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Right?

You'll never admit that deep down, a part of you wants to see him again. To check that he's real and that you didn't imagine the whole thing. To see if he is going as crazy as you feel.

That's when the answer hits you. The only way to make this right is to end things once and for all. Tie up all your loose ends and tell Yoongi that you and him were a one time thing. Make sure you were on the same page.

Then maybe you'll be able to concentrate on helping Namjoon beat his ass.

A sudden confidence grips you, standing up abruptly from your desk, alerting the attention of Hoseok who up until now has been quietly engrossed in the track he's producing.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

There's an address burning at the forefront of your mind. You have the route committed to memory. How long it'll take to get there. How long it'll take to get back before anyone else at Big Hit notices your absence.

The only place you knew where you might find Yoongi.

"I won't be gone long. Cover for me if anyone sees I'm gone, 'kay?"

Hoseok eyes you curiously and pulls his headphones to sit around his neck. "O-okay but don't you think you should take an umbrella? It's raining and you might catch a cold — oh."

You don't hear him, the door already slamming behind you.

--

In hindsight, Hoseok was probably right. You're soaked before you even get half way to Yoongi's studio.

Not that you care. Not when there are so many things you want to say to Yoongi. So many questions only he knows the answer to.

Not when you're about to see him again and you're giddy and nervous and scared of the way your heart feels like it's about to bust out of your chest.

You don't really know why you're doing this. For Namjoon's sake? To ease your own guilty conscience? Both?

You shake your head before your confidence can deflate and focus on putting two feet in front of the other instead, trying to take your mind of your destination by focusing on your surroundings. You always liked this part of town, with it's bustling roads and street vendors and buskers. Here it's easy to forget, to just close your eyes and let the buzz of cars and the melody from a nearby street guitarist and the torrent of ice cold rain whisk you away, like life is operating at double the speed but you're too caught up in your own thoughts to care.

So caught up in your own thoughts that you don't spot the guy handing out flyers on the side of the street until your face is colliding with his shoulder.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!"

The guy lets out a groan as you helplessly watch his flyers flutter to the ground like autumn leaves, disintegrating on the rain dampened street.

"Does nobody look where they're going any more? My boss is going to kill me..."

The guy gets to his knees and starts grabbing as many flyers as he can by the handful.

"I'm so sorry, at least let me help?"

You hear him sigh deeply but he doesn't stop you when you drop down beside him.

You stamp on a flyer before it can be whisked away by the breeze. It's ruined. The rain makes the ink bleed into a black blotch in the center of the sodden paper, but if you squint you can just make out the barely legible print.

Live Classical Piano - 7:30 - 9:30 Every Wednesday At The Coffee House!

A throat clears, shaking you back to reality, and a nimble hand thrusts towards you, palm up, waiting for you to deposit the pile of flyers you collected.

"Just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart? Some of us have a job to do."

Shame heats your cheeks. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'll pay for these —"

Its then, as you let your hood fall down, that the boy stiffens. You look up slowly, meeting a widened pair of piercing grey eyes for the first time. The very same eyes you haven't been able to get out of your head all week.

"Wait...Yoongi?"

It's him. He's here? A coincidence surely but it sure as shit doesn't feel like one.

Just seeing him knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Yoongi blinks a few times, eyes wide with disbelief. Then he's ripping the flyers from your slackened grip and grabbing you by the wrist, dragging you behind him to the side of the street where you're just out of view from passerby's.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He deadpans.

You take in the way his mint hair clings damply to his forehead, shirt darker in places where droplets of rain soak into the fabric. He's wearing one of those traditional pianist outfits with the funny tuxedo jacket and a little black bow tie strung around his neck that looks like it came from a bad Beethoven Halloween costume. It catches you off guard. No wonder you didn't recognise him before. Not exactly hip hop.

"What are you doing here?"

Yoongi glances over his shoulder warily. "Look, you can't tell anyone you saw me here okay? Did Namjoon send you?"

"What? No--?"

"Just leave, Y/N. Before someone sees you here and tells your precious brother that you've been hanging around with scum like me." He spits, drops your arm and starts in the direction he came from.

"Yoongi, wait!" You blurt, throwing your hands up in frustration. He freezes."Can we...can we just talk?"

Yoongi nearly does a double take. He's usually full of jibes but this catches him off guard. "Talk?"

He backtracks, though you notice the way he keeps a safe distance between you. It feels silly considering how much...closer you were just a few days ago. You wonder, as his eyes look you up and down, if he's thinking about it too. If you crossed his mind as much as he crossed yours.

"Listen, I don't have time for this, I need to go get some more of these flyers..."

Your heart drops, embarrassed for even entertaining the idea that he would want to see you again.

"Please?"

He hesitates. You're sure he's going to blow you off again but then his eyes fill with something scarily close to concern. "Shit, you're shivering."

Your hair hangs in heavy tendrils around your face, droplets of cold rain caressing your cheeks. Your knees knock, arms wrapped around the damp hoodie clinging to your torso to retain some warmth.

Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, despite the way his own teeth chatter. "You're going to catch your death dressed like that."

You stand there dumbly as he holds it out to you. He kicks a stone with the toe of his sneaker awkwardly when you finally wrap it around your shoulders.

"I thought you didn't want to see me again." It's almost accusing but you're sure you hear a trace of a pout in his voice.

"I...I didn't want to." Yoongi looks up. "But I think we should talk about you know...us."

Yoongi bites his lip, like he's having an inner debate. Like he's about to do something he knows he shouldn't.

"Fine. Let's talk. I, uh, guess I have some things I need to say to you too." He scratches the back of his neck. "But not here. Could I—would it be weird if we got coffee or something?"

Definitely weird. That's what you should say. But you don't.

"Okay."

You don't miss the way Yoongi's cheeks turn a little red.

--

The coffee shop Yoongi takes you to is a quaint little place, definitely not the sort of establishment you expected rough-around-the-edges Min Yoongi to frequent with its exposed brick walls and mint green espresso mugs with smiley faces on the side that give it a somewhat cosy appeal.

"I work here," He explains when he sees your eyes roaming. "Needed some extra cash."

You nod. Makes sense. The smell of pumpkin bread and coffee beans is still a welcome relief from the bitter chill outside.

The guy at the counter nods in greeting when Yoongi approaches, already grinding up coffee like he knows his regular order. Yoongi flashes him a tight smile. You figure they know each other, not that Yoongi seems the type to mingle within barista social circles but then again he is full of surprises today.

They share a few hushed whispers, staring not so subtly in the direction of where you sit hunched in one of the corner booths, but you just ignore it by watching a rain drop crawl down the window with rapt attention.

Words barely pass between you and Yoongi until you're both seated, him with a coffee you learn he takes black and you with a much too sugary frappe which you take to stirring with your straw nervously, chin in palm.

It's Yoongi who finally breaks the silence.

"What are you thinking?" He looks at you expectantly over the rim of his mug. For some reason it makes you nervous.

Guilt niggles at your repose. The cafe is alive with indistinguishable chatter, a coffee machine whirring loudly nearby. In reality, you merely blend in to the hubbub. But as you watch Yoongi fiddle with the rings on his fingers in anticipation of your response it's like a hush has fallen and all eyes are on you. Judging, like they know how wrong it is for you to be here.

He's been the only thing on your mind all week but now you're here in front of him it's like your mind is blank.

"Did you tell anyone?"

Yoongi blinks. "Namjoon's secret? I said I wasn't going to say anything—"

"No. Our secret. Us..." It feels foreign, referring to Yoongi and yourself as a unit. You hate to admit it makes your heart beat a little faster. "Namjoon knows."

Yoongi's coffee cup clatters to the table and words rise like bile in your throat, everything you've been bottling up inside tumbling out before you can stop it.

"Namjoon knows! He found out about us somehow and now everything has gone to shit and...I shouldn't even be telling you this! God I'm an idiot! I just don't know what to do—"

Your wailing is interrupted suddenly by a warm hand covering your own. Yoongi's hand. The touch is gentle, comforting, something about the squeeze of reassurance it provides calming your hyperventilating. It feels right.

Why does it feel right?

Yoongi must misinterpret the puzzled look you flash him as a warning he's crossing a boundary because he retracts his arm jerkily, a flush creeping up his neck.

He glosses over the weird moment hastily.

"Slow down, go back. He knows?" There's a lilt of surprise to his voice. Either he's a really good actor or he is just as panicked as you by this news. "And you think I told him?"

"Well, not exactly. He knows some of it — not everything! — he thinks that I just spoke to you after the show...I assumed you would have filled in the blanks by now."

Yoongi laughs breathily. Relieved. It flummoxes you. Shouldn't he be satisfied that his plan to get under Namjoon's skin was a success?

"Y/N, there were hundreds of people at the gig, anyone could have seen us. Jimin and Hoseok probably told him. You act like I tried to seduce you just to get revenge, or something." He gulps back the last of his coffee and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before his expression suddenly turns serious. "You don't think that right?"

"Isn't that exactly what you did?"

Say no.

Yoongi opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He doesn't deny it.

Something in your chest twists with disappointment. It scares you shitless and you know you have to end this — whatever this is — before there's no turning back.

"Look, it — we — were a stupid mistake okay? I need to know that you're not going to use this against him. It would kill him."

"Mistake?" Yoongi's face drops. "Didn't I say you could trust me?"

It sounds somewhat pained, like he wasn't expecting you to think so lowly of him. His eyes soften with a certain gentleness now and you almost feel bad for thinking they could ever look at you with sinister intentions.

"Do you regret it? What we did?"

You hesitate. You want to say no so badly. But that's not why you came here.

Pull yourself together!

"Yes."

He raises an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No." His eyes glint. You can't breathe. "Which is exactly why I'll never say a word. I don't play that way. Fair and square remember?"

You're speechless. All you can get out is a measly oh as you stare at the coffee in your cup and process.

"What did Namjoon say anyway?"

Your fingers find the patterns carved into the surface of the wooden table top, feeling the grooves as a distraction from the embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He told me not to come back and find you."

A wry smile creeps across his face. "But you did?"

Even Yoongi is accusing you now? God, you played right into his hands. He's probably enjoying this. That you broke Namjoon's trust again, all for him.

The worst part is that you can hardly bring yourself to care. Sitting with Yoongi still feels deliciously indulgent — seeing his face again, feeling the heat of his body where your knees brush under the table finally satisfying a craving that had been growing inside you since that night in his studio.

"He doesn't control me."

He just nods. "I get that." His fingers tap in time with the sickeningly happy radio tune that plays overhead, eager to change the subject, like he's aware that he already said too much. "How is Namjoon anyway? You written him a song yet?"

Not allowed. If any information gets leaked about Namjoon's Mic Drop stage the first person he'd blame was you. You had to keep your lips tightly sealed.

You shrink back into your seat. "You know I can't tell you that."

"Okay, then." Yoongi throws his arms over the back of his chair, a cheekiness in his voice, like he's testing the waters to see how you'll react. "Ask me something instead. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Shoot."

That's allowed, right? Where's the harm. If it doesn't involve Namjoon then it can't hurt him...

"Okay..." You purse your lips, eyes travelling around the dimly lit coffee shop. "Why do you work...here?"

Yoongi nods to the stack of damp flyers beside him. Live classical piano. "I play piano here sometimes." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. It's kinda cute. "Needed some spare cash and this was the only place that could take me at such short notice."

"You play piano?"

He nods and you follow his gaze to the grand piano stood unoccupied in the corner. You imagine how Yoongi would look bent over the keys. How his fingers would move across the instrument with concentrated precision. How the tune would mingle with the warmth of the coffee shop on a cold evening.

"I didn't know you like classical music?"

"I don't. Not really." He cocks his head, finding the right words. "Namjoon has investors right? People who just throw money at him?" You nod, somehow ashamed. "Teaching me to play piano was my mom's investment in me. She always said it might come in handy some day."

You nod. "And do you have to wear that stupid costume every time?"

"This?" A snort leaves you when he shoots you a look, a shy smile finding the curve of his lips. "Don't mean to brag but it's a huge hit with the older ladies."

You can't help but laugh when he smugly tugs at the bow tie around his neck, unable to miss how his eyes light up. You share a smile that makes you feel light headed.

"I'd have to see it to believe it."

"Well, you know where to find me if you're ever bored and need a good laugh on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Friday evening." He shifts in his seat. "Or you could just come back to my place, y'know if you wanted to —" You frown, the easiness that had settled between you dissipating as you both sense the inappropriateness of his suggestion. "I know I shouldn't ask, it's just I have a piano and—"

For some reason the rational part of your brain taps out and your heart says fuck it.

"I'd love to."

--

"So, where do you live?" You ask when you finish your drink and nervously copy Yoongi who is already getting to his feet.

"Oh about that...I live in the apartment upstairs actually." He chuckles sheepishly."Cheap rent, you know?"

It takes you by surprise but you don't press.

"Oh. Right."

Yoongi extends a hand towards you. The thud in your chest gets faster when you slide your palm into his and he pulls you behind him to the foot the stairway you had disregarded upon entry, the distressed baby blue door at the top labelled RESIDENTS ONLY seeming strangely inviting.

Yoongi gestures for you to go first and you've barely ascended three steps before a voice rings out behind you, making you freeze like a child caught in a mischievous act.

"Use protection you two! And close the door so that Odengie's innocence isn't compromised this time!"

The barista from before rounds the corner, a tray of empty mugs in his left hand and a cloth for wiping down tables in the other.

You suppress a laugh. "Odengie?"

"His goddamn sugar glider—" He says it more to himself rather than in response to your query, flashing the tousled haired boy an exasperated look. "Really, bro?"

The other man either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "What? He's too young to learn how baby sugar gliders are made." His eyes suddenly flit to you and, as if remembering his manners, he deposits the cloth onto a nearby table and reaches a damp hand through the staircase to shake yours with a friendly smile. "I'm Jin, by the way."

You take it cautiously, wiping your now wet hand on the back of your jeans. "Nice to meet you?"

"Come on," Yoongi is flushed red as he pushes you up the rest of the stairs with a pressure at the small of your back. "We'll be back down in a minute, chill okay?"

Yoongi shoulders his way into the apartment, pulling you across the threshold alongside him, but not before you catch a glimpse of Jin's teasing grin poking around the staircase, words reaching your ears before Yoongi could slam the door shut in time.

"Oh, so it's a quickie? Have fun!"

A laugh escapes your lips, Yoongi pressing his back to the door with a sigh of relief. "Sorry about him. He's my roommate. Kind of came with the apartment, you know?"

You glance around at the small maisonette that unfolds before you curiously. It feels more like a dorm room, a mismatch pile of shoes piled at the entry way, a pair of beanbags substituting a couch surrounding a small gaming set up littered with empty pizza boxes you presume belong to Seokjin.

"Ah. He's part of the furniture then."

The other corner of the room is littered with an assortment of vinyls strewn out beside a pair of speakers and a record player, the needle still hovering over the grooves of an album by an artist you don't recognise. Yoongi's touch to the decor, you suppose.

"Guess you could say that. He's not so bad once you get over the uh...small rodents."

You trail behind Yoongi into what you assume is his bedroom, if the frameless mattress which lay on the floor in the corner beneath the window with sheets unmade and strewn across the floor messily was anything to go by.

He flicks on the set of fairy lights tacked to the wall, a surprisingly homely touch that makes you think Yoongi isn't as cold as you believe him to be.

Yoongi approaches a clothes rack stuffed with a variety of stage outfits. "Here." He pulls an oversized hoodie from one of the hangers, throwing it at you from across the room. "You're clothes are still wet. Wouldn't want to catch a cold. You can wear this until they dry."

"O-Okay." You stand there dumbly. He isn't expecting you to strip right in front of him, is he?

He seems to sense your hesitance, turning around so his back is to you with wide eyes. He plays it off by grabbing a selection of clothing for himself, shuffling past you with eyes trained to the ground. "I'll use the bathroom. Tell me when you're done."

You are soaked through to your underwear but you leave them on since Yoongi probably didn't have a spare pair of panties laying around you could borrow. The fabric of his hoodie is soft and warm when it slips over your otherwise bare skin and you breath in the woody scent that seems to embrace your entire body, ignoring the way it makes your head dizzy, and roll up the large sleeves to free your hands before calling to him that you are done.

When he re-enters the room, pulling a grey beanie over his head haphazardly to match the much more Yoongi appropriate outfit of a simple white tee and sweats, his breath hitches at your bare legs peeking out from the bottom of the garment. His lingering stare makes you hug your torso self consciously, eyes never leaving you even as he grabs the pile of sodden clothing you discarded earlier and lays them neatly over the radiator to dry.

You practically hear the way he swallows awkwardly when his eyes lock with yours, caught in the act. He's quick to lighten the mood.

"Well...here she is."

You turn as he moves across the room to the piano occupying the opposite wall, wood stained dark but bleached slightly in places by the stream of sunlight which washes its surface from the opposite window. The stool beneath it scrapes against the scuffed floor boards when Yoongi makes enough space to seat himself on top of the blue velour cushion.

"I know it's not much — nothing like you're used to I mean, but it makes music just the same."

He must take the way you hang back near the door frame as a sign of your distaste which couldn't have been further from reality; it's simply to allow you to study the way Yoongi sits with his back perfectly straight, fingers lingering over the keys like he knows the piano as well as an old friend. And, though you'll never admit it, the way your heart thumps at the thought of being in Yoongi's most private space.

"Where did you get it?"

"It was my mother's." The breath you suck in is slightly too harsh. "Like I said earlier, she liked to play, before she..."

Died. The word never passes between his lips but it sits heavy in the air like a weight.

Yoongi's eyes avert yours so you don't press any further, instead focusing your attention to the pattern of scratches embedded into the piano's lid, unable to help the way your fingers trace the coffee cup rings littering the surface like rugged halos. "It's beautiful."

The side panel is littered with lines, carved deeply into the wood with a penknife; a makeshift height chart like the one you had on the back of your bedroom door as a kid. Your drop to your knees to squint at the nearly illegible words scrawled next to the markings that ascend almsot to the top of the instrument.

Yoongi aged 3...Yoongi aged 4...Yoongi aged 5...

All the way until Yoongi aged 7 where they stop completely.

You frown but he lets out a soft laugh, somewhat pained. "That's when she got sick. I grew up quickly after that."

Straightening up, you swallow thickly, unsure what to say, so you just settle for changing the subject instead.

"So, what can you play?"

Yoongi fiddles with the open sheet music book on the piano stand. His fingers tremble slightly as he turns the worn pages before finally settling on a sheet that is lightly crumpled and ripped around the edges and coffee stained and ferociously dog eared at the corners. Tell tale signs that he had played this piece before, over and over again.

His favourite, you perceive.

Sure, he had literally fucked you into next week already but your hands get clammy at the knowledge that Yoongi feels comfortable enough to share such an intimate tidbit about himself with you. Music means a lot to him after all. Anyone can see that.

You catch a glimpse of the piece over his shoulder.

Romeo and Juliet - Love Theme.

Yoongi notices how you raise a brow at his choice.

"I know I said I don't like classical music but this arrangement is different. You know the story right?"

High school had given you enough general knowledge about Romeo and Juliet for you to nod in confirmation.

"It's like you can feel the passion they have for each other in every note, you know? Like nothing could ever come between them."

His words are so earnest they make your heart ache. You hadn't put him down as the hopeless romantic type.

"I mean not really. They still die in the end." You counter. He frowns.

"But only because of their fucked up families. It's their feud that comes between them in the end. This piece comes before all the shitty parts. If you play it over and over again it's like they never stop loving one another."

His hands fold in his lap and he sucks in a bashful breath, nose scrunching with embarrassment at his dramatic outburst. "It's stupid. I know. Forget I said it."

"No, no I understand completely. Maybe if they weren't so busy fighting they could have listened to their hearts. Right?"

"Right." He scoots across the piano stool, patting the empty space beside him with an encouraging look. "Sit."

Like a magnet you find yourself drawn to his side, shivering when his shoulder brushes yours. His arms hover over the piano, poised and relaxed, concentration etched into the hard lines of his face.

"Ready?"

You can only nod. And then he starts to play.

Yoongi's fingertips eagerly caress the keys of his piano, eyes lifting from the sheet music to gauge your reaction while his hands carry the melody on autopilot, the pretty silver rings he dons glinting with every movement. His neck is bent slightly, allowing his head to bob and sway along with the rise and fall of the rhythm, eyes screwing shut as the composition reaches its most pivotal sequence.

He's practically raking the keys now, pure passion and violent emotion splashing every inch of the room. You shut your own eyes, hands clutching the bottom of the stool until your knuckles whiten, like you might float away with the beautiful tune if you don't ground yourself.

When he said you could feel passion with every note he wasn't wrong. You could feel his passion clear as day.

Slowly, he comes back down from his high, wrists coming to a standstill. All he can do is take in heaving, ragged breaths, body slumped down, spent with the sheer effort expelled in his performance. Oxygen is lodged in your own lungs as you take in how how his bangs stick to the beads of sweat prevalent on his forehead

You recover before he does, unconsciously fumbling around in your tote bag, hands curling around the Polaroid camera you bring everywhere just in case a photo opportunity arises.

They never usually do. Until now.

"Stay like that." The viewfinder raises to your eye and you snap a shot of him with precision, the soft click that emanates through the room making Yoongi's eyes snap open.

The picture dispenses from the camera, black square fading out to reveal a hazy image as you shake it back and forth. Yoongi, face relaxed, lashes pressed softly to the tops of his cheeks with a lazy smile.

It's the Yoongi you remember. Your Yoongi.

He smirks when you slide it into the back pocket of your jeans, cheeks glowing with a contentedness you hadn't seen for a long time. "You always did like taking pictures of me."

"Shut up."

When your hand tentatively closes over his where it still rests on the piano, it's his turn to shoot you a curious look. With a shaky breath you flip his palm, slotting your fingers together perfectly, and lean across the piano to press your lips against his.

His mouth is softer than you remember, not attacking with the rich taste of lust but rather caressing your lips gently, sweetly. Taking your time to commit each tickle of breath against your nose, each slide of his bottom lip between yours, to memory. Everything other than the dizzying sensation of his tongue tracing your bottom lip disappears. All your worries, reluctances, regrets,  just dissolving like the setting sun.

Everything feels safe here with him. Everything feels right.

It barely lasts a minute, not much more than a delicate brush really, but when he pulls back you are already breathless, immediately starved of the satisfaction that came from finally feeling him against you again, tasting the spearmint mixed with something so inherently Yoongi you didn't quite realise how much you were craving.

Yoongi sighs blissfully. You need more.

Your hands tangle in the front of his T-shirt but before you can pepper his mouth with a series of further eager kisses, his free hand plants on your shoulder and pushes you back carefully.

"About what you said the other night." His eyes are wide with concern, trained to your lips, resisting the urge to capture them again with all his self control. It made your heart flip. "I don't want to hurt you Y/N. We don't have to do this—"

"I want to. So bad." His thumb caresses your knuckles. "I trust you."

In that moment, it's true. You trust him more than you've ever trusted anything in the world.

"But Namjoon..."

His words fade out when you lean in for another reassuring peck. Namjoon's name falling from Yoongi's lips doesn't make your skin crawl like it usually did. In fact you feel nothing at the mention of your brother.

"To hell with Namjoon. I'm a big girl. I know what I want."

Yoongi grins, hand coming to cup your cheek tentatively, eyes crinkling with what you could only describe as liberation. "And what's that?"

Your eyes narrow in on his parted mouth again.

"You."

His eyes darken and then his hands are tangling in your hair and pulling your chest flush to his in a kiss that is far rougher than before. No more beating around the bush. Just passion as you crawl into his lap and kiss him like it's the first time — or perhaps, more accurately, the last time. Like the world will end if you part for a single breath.

Fingers find the hem of his shirt and you're pulling it up his torso greedily, heart beating a little faster when you feel his warm skin beneath your fingertips. His chest is softer than you expect, a perfect contrast to the strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back to his lips.

It's not long before you feel his pants fill out underneath you. The feeling is all too familiar, reminding you of how it felt to be above him like this in his studio. That night feels like a life time away as his hands grab your hips and press you roughly down onto his crotch.

You both groan out at the feeling, something intense, something primal, heating up between your legs as you circle his clothed length, want and need blending into one as your core dampens with every twist of your hips.

Yoongi breaks away from your lips with a gasp when your fingers reach between your body and find the sensitive head of his cock, a wet patch forming on his sweats. His eyes are shut, head thrown back against the piano top as he bites into his thumb to stop little moans tumbling from his swollen lips.

He shoots upright when you slide down his torso, hardwood cold against your bare knees, fingers fumbling with the strings of his pants. When you finally get them open and slip your hand beneath the waistband, Yoongi all but groans at the feel of your cool palm grabbing his hot cock skin on skin.

You shimmy his sweats around his thighs, mouth practically watering as you eye up his pulsing length, unable to resist stroking it firmly with your fist. A hand covers yours.

"Wait!" A strangled noise of agony rips from his chest when your grip loosens, desperate to buck up into your touch but managing to stay firmly planted to the stool in favour of gaining your consent. "Are you sure?"

You scoff teasingly. "Would I be on my knees if I wasn't?"

His laugh is breathy, half a moan as you pick up your pace again. "Just nervous — ah!" A soft kitten lick to the reddened tip of his cock has him flying forward, knuckles white as they grip your shoulder.

"Min Yoongi gets nervous?" The precum that coats your tongue is salty, makes you itch to take him into your mouth fully.

"Shut up." His breathing is ragged, hands hovering over your hair. "Didn't think this would happen again. Needs to be perfect — holy fuck Y/N."

You give no warning before you sink down on his length, his hands finally tangling in your hair and tugging lightly when your nose presses to his pubic bone, groaning around him when you feel the head of his cock pulsing in the back of your throat.

"So warm, shit."

You come up for air, lips wrapping around his head and enjoying the way his thighs trembled when your tongue runs teasingly along the underside of his cock. His hand pushes at the back of your head, forcing his length further down your throat than you're expecting until you gag around his girth.

"Shit, sorry."

The groan that follows doesn't sound very apologetic though. The visual of your drool coating his painfully hard length mixed with the sensation of your warm mouth engulfing him whole nearly has him blowing his load then and there, utterly fucked out and oblivious to the string of groans leaving his lips when you finally come up for air. Tears streak your cheeks and Yoongi wipes them away with his knuckle tenderly.

"God, look at you." He's breathless, amazed. "C'mere."

A hand cups your elbow, pulling you to your feet so he can connect your lips again, humming when he tastes himself on your tongue. His hands are all over you now as he wraps you in his arms and stumbles backwards your back is pressed to the mattress in the corner. It dips in the middle when he crawls over you, tucking away strands of hair that fan around your face like a halo before his mouth is on you again like he can't quite help himself.

A series of open mouthed kisses caress your jaw, then your neck, all the way down your chest. Yoongi's eyes flick up to watch your face, lips parted with want as his hands fiddled with the hem of his own much too big hoodie swaddling your body.

"Can I?"

Your hand threads into his hair encouragingly. "Please."

A gasp passes his lips when he finally pulls the fabric over your head, eyes following his curious calloused hands as they explore the expanse of skin exposed to him now you're left in just your bra and panties.

"So beautiful." He traces his fingers down your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach. The light and delicate touches have you shivering, writhing for more. Almost as desperate to feel him everywhere as he is to worship every inch of you.

His touch stops at the hem of your panties. You're already working on the clasp of your bra, a violent nod the only permission he needs to drag the fabric agonisingly slow down your legs, unhooking them from your ankles carefully.

When he looks back up you are completely bare, laid out beneath the stream of half-sun-half-moon bathing the room.

Yoongi pounces, lips wrapping around one of your nipples greedily, tongue swirling around the hardened bud until you're gasping his name over and over.

"Can't believe you're letting me see you like this."

Hands wrap around your thighs, legs falling open, the way he licks his lips as he takes in your glistening heat not going unnoticed.

Yoongi's head shakes in disbelief, mumbling words which sound an awful lot like so pretty and fucking gorgeous as his head dips and he continues his trail of earlier kisses, tongue laving over your inner thighs and edging ever closer to your aching core.

"W-wait." Yoongi freezes and comes up to meet your face. His breath is hot against your cheek, eyes scanning your face for hesitation.

"What is it? Are you okay?" He's frantic, swallowing nervously as his palms cup your face. "Want to take care of you this time. What is it? Tell me."

"I'm fine. More than fine." You brush your noses together. It makes him smile. "Just want to feel you, that's all. Now."

Yoongi lets out a dramatic sigh, voice high and whiny. "But I've been dreaming about how you taste for days, Y/N. Literally. Dreaming about it."

You don't mention how you've been replaying the visual of his lips wrapped around your clit and edging you over and over again since it happened, just stroke his cheek in mutual understanding.

"Too bad. You'll just have to wait until next time." His features light up at the promise of a next time. Another moment like this, just you and him.

His face falls into the crook of your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin teasingly as a hand trails between your legs. When the pads of his fingers circle your entrance you whimper, clit throbbing with want when his hand pulls away nearly as quick as it came.

The want only intensifies when he brings two of his arousal coated digits to his mouth with closed eyes, guttural moan vibrating your flush chests when he savours the taste of your arousal coating his fingers.

"Next time." He hums and you are sure you nearly came untouched.

"Need you. Now."

He wastes no time taking his achingly hard cock into his fist, placing a supportive hand on your hip as he lines himself up with your entrance. You whine when he drags the tip up and down your slit, giving some brief but much needed stimulation to your clit.

Before he can push inside though you place a hand on his chest to stop him. He doesn't have time to dote on you again though because without further ado you're whipping off the beanie that still sits snugly around his head, throwing it across the room with a smirk.

His eyes glint fondly. "Whoops."

The room has grown darker by now, only lit by the gentle sparkle of the fairy lights and Yoongi has to feel around in the sheets to find your hand. In the same moment he tangles your fingers together beside your face, he pushes inside with a gasp.

Unlike the first time in his studio, Yoongi is in no rush. He wants to savour it. He fills you slowly, so that you can feel every ridge of his length dragging against your velvety walls. When he finally bottoms out and your hips press flush together, you squeeze his hand. Tight. It's this small action that tells him everything he needs to know. Explains the funny feeling in your chest without ever saying the words.

Your legs wrap around his back automatically when his hips begin to rock, angling your body so that he hits so deep with every thrust it steals the breath straight from your lips. Arousal drips from your heat down onto the bed sheets, making each slide deliciously smooth.

"Yoongi I.." It almost slips from your lips. The deepest, darkest secret that you haven't quite admitted to yourself yet.

Yoongi just ups his pace, exchanging words for actions to show you he feels the same. Fucking you a little harder, a little deeper. More sincerely. It compensates for the words neither of you know how to say.

"I know." You feel so full, so warm when he places his forearms at either side of your head to press you into the mattress. "I know."

All the yearning inside you disappears. All that matters is you and Yoongi now, nails scratching up his back, his forehead pressing to yours so that your moans mingle together until you can't tell whose was whose any more.

With a fucked out moan against your lips he's spilling inside you, sending you over the edge with him, hissing as you clench tightly around his cock.

All thoughts are wiped from your mind. Apart from the sensation of his cheek pressed to your chest, hot breath against your collar bone. How you can't believe you lived in a world without Yoongi in it. How you never want to go without him again. How you don't think you can deny how Yoongi makes you feel anymore even if you tried.

The stars behind your eyes fade, and when you come back down, Yoongi is hovering over your body, lips parted and eyes blown out, mesmerised. He's sweaty and smiling and you can feel the way his heart beats in time with yours.

"You okay?"

"Never better." His smile stretches into a grin when your words slur together. "—'m so happy."

A soft, chaste kiss is pressed to your forehead and before you know it Yoongi is tangling your legs together and wrapping the sheets around your bodies, entwined as one.

Me too. You knew that's what he meant. You'd dwell on it another time. For now your eyes are falling shut, satisfied as you inhale Yoongi's scent on the sheets...

Before a blissful slumber could take you away, you're interrupted by a series of knocks against the bedroom door. Both you and Yoongi shoot upright, exchanging a puzzled glance.

"I thought you said it was gonna be a quickie. Come on man, I need to use the bathroom!"

Yoongi groans into the pillow.

"That's it. I'm getting a new roommate."

--

As the weeks go by you start spending less and less time at the Big Hit office, turning up late to your shifts or clocking out before they were up. The perks of being employed by your parents is that they can't fire you in good conscience, you suppose.

Instead you increasingly find yourself at Yoongi's apartment, writing lyrics at the piano when he was around (sometimes even when he wasn't) or down in the coffee shop, helping yourself to hot chocolate refills on your work breaks. Jin joked that you'd need to start paying rent soon.

Just like how you were able to pick apart each of the boys' influence on the apartment the first time you went there, your own presence was becoming ever apparent.

In the way you spilled sugar on the counter when making tea and always forgot to clean it up, much to Jin's dismay. How some of your own hoodies and pyjama pants had begun to smell like Yoongi's washing powder, ending up folded neatly in his laundry basket and stowed away on his clothing rack like they belonged there. The way his piano top was littered with open notebooks filled with your messy scrawl and pens with the caps lost and half empty mugs stained around the rim with your chapstick.

Yoongi seemed wary at first, cautious to let you get too comfortable around him, dropping you home late at night once the lights in your house switched out and you knew it was safe to go inside.

But eventually he started to crave the little things that reminded him of you, unable to stop the smiles which crept onto his face as he loaded the dishwasher with the mugs and carried you to bed when you fell asleep at the piano stool.

Your bed. That's what you'd taken to calling it now.

Yoongi hated to admit that he was weak. When he got up on stage he was Gloss, hard faced and brazen and ruthless. But here with you, the facade he tried to uphold seemed to crumble into nothing. And the worst part was that he loved it.

Even when he was performing at the club or practicing for the competition, his thoughts always ended up wandering back to you. There were times when your schedules clashed or it was too risky to see each other or times you were simply too exhausted once you got home, falling into bed as soon as you crossed the threshold. But the knowledge that you were always there waiting for each other became the only safe place he knew and that was enough.

Of course you still had to oversee Namjoon's Mic Drop stage, it was your job after all, but that never seemed to come up when you were together. Just watching movies on his laptop or laughing at ungodly hours while you filled each other in on anecdotes that happened in the time you were apart, retreating beneath the sheets when Jin banged on the wall because it was four in the morning so would you please shut the fuck up.

For the first time in a long time you felt happy. Like you belonged somewhere that was all your own. No more answering to Namjoon or your parents. Just your own heart. And it always seemed to lead you back here to Yoongi, straight into his arms.

And as much as you hated yourself for it, you could feel your resentment for Namjoon growing. You'd be damned if you let him take this away from you, like he'd taken everything else.

Eventually, you stopped crawling through your bedroom window like a goddamn teenager and your parents stopped questioning why you never came home anymore. The cracks between you became a chasm. And right now, Yoongi was the band aid holding you together.

--

When Yoongi returns home later than usual, he's not even surprised when he ascends the stairs and find you and Jin laid out on the bean bags, already tipsy on red wine and giggling at his disgruntled expression.

That is until you take in the weary lines that had etched their way into his forehead, how his eyes look sunken and puffy. How his hands tremble against your waist when you pull him into your arms, body swaying back and forth lightly in your grasp like he could topple over any second.

You know what overworked looks like — after all, you had tended to Namjoon plenty of times when he refused to stop at his limits, barraging through them instead, a habit Yoongi also seemed to possess.

Ordered to stay on bed rest, Yoongi slumps face down into his pillow, letting out a long groan of relief when the mattress cushions his aching limbs.

You're already tucking him in, half way to the door to prepare him a hot cup of honey and lemon to soothe the husk in his throat from rapping too aggressively when his arms loop around your waist and pull you down to snuggle into the crook of your neck contentedly.

"Yoongi, let me go." It's futile, his grip is firm and he is already kicking the sheets over your body and pressing his cheek to the left side of your chest where you're sure he can hear how your heart races, a pout evident in your voice. "I want to take care of you."

"Mmf you are.." Words already slurring with the beginnings of sleep, he smiles groggily when you fall slack in his grasp and press your cheek to the top of his head in defeat. "Stroke my hair please?"

As soon as your fingers tangle in his blue locks he lets out a sigh of relief, like he'd been waiting to feel the touch all day.

Watching his face relax as he drifts off, you bask in the warmth of fulfilment singing your very nerve ending and silently wish that you can stay like this forever.

Just you and Yoongi against the world.

At some point your own eyes fall shut.

--

You're awoken by the sounds of muffled sobs.

The dark room momentarily disorientates you, heart quickening as you realise you're not in your own bed. Eventually your eyes adjust to the blackness, taking in the piano stood sturdily in the corner, breathing in the scent lingering on the pillow beneath your cheek and you're washed with a wave of comfort.

"Yoongi?" You croak.

The sheets are ripped from your body as Yoongi's form shoots upright. His bare back is damp with sweat, visible in the moonlight creeping through the slanted blinds, mattress rocking slightly with every sob that wracks his frame.

"Go back to sleep." His voice is gruff , but forcibly so and you hear the tremor lurking below the surface.

You sit up beside him. His face is buried in his palms. The sight makes your heart ache.

"Are you okay?" You're still new to this. Sure you're tangled up in his sheets most nights but you're still learning the ropes, unsure how best to comfort him. You settle for gently patting his shoulder, wincing at how cold and distant the action feels.

"I said go back to sleep." When his face emerges from between his hands you see the tell tale tracks of tears streaking his cheeks. Even when he wipes his face with the back of his palm there's a steady stream of them dripping down his chin.

"Is that what you really want?"

Yoongi presses his mouth together in a tight line, eyes black and empty as he tilts his head back and takes a shaky breath. That's when he crumbles. "Please stay."

"Oh, Yoongi." It's barely a whisper, afraid that if you speak too loud he'll shatter into a million pieces. He's like a scared kid, knees hugged to his chest as he wipes the hot tears from his eyes with a hard rub of his knuckles.

Yoongi stiffens when you fumble under the sheets to find his hand. You think he might pull away as you link your fingers with his but to your surprise he pulls your interlocked palms into his lap and squeezes so hard you feel the circulation in your fingers cutting off. The way he chokes back another sob stops you from complaining though, already cupping his cheek and tilting his face towards yours with your free hand.

"Why are you doing this?" His eyes squeeze shut, fresh tears sliding down his face and doing nothing to hide the slight tinge of red beneath them that tell you he's embarrassed to be seen like this. Vulnerable, so unlike the hard faced Yoongi you had come to know.

"Because I want to." You squeeze his hand and feel him squeeze back weakly. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Pressing his forehead to yours, Yoongi leans down and captures your lips between his own. I know, it says.

This is different to the way he usually kisses you. There's no hunger, no hands on your neck and your thighs that set you alight with desire. Just a sense of yearning, like he wants to be closer to you, the plump flesh of his lips slotting between yours like a perfect puzzle piece, slightly salty from his tears. It makes you ache all over, like you're somehow connected and sharing his pain.

He pulls away, sharp exhales tickling your face as he scans your eyes for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you're going to leave him here alone. This is side of Yoongi that you have never seen before. He always said he isn't good with words and you know better than anyone that he hated admitting that he needed someone. This was is his way saying he needs you.

And in that moment you feel a piece of your heart flutter into his hands.

"Nightmares." He mumbles, swallowing thickly and tipping his head back against the headboard, expression pained "Just nightmares."

"Want to talk about it?" You sit back next to him, and when he rolls his neck to face you. He looks unreadable again. Eyes void. You half think he's going to push you away, turn over and fall back asleep and leave you to stare at the ceiling alone with the silence.

But he doesn't. Instead he lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head at himself as he pulls you into his arms, stroking your cheek fondly when your head comes to rest on his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

"Why can't I say no to you?"

"Guess I have that affect on people."

He snorts lightly, the first proper reaction he'd given you and you're pleased at his amusement. Pleased you were able to comfort him somewhat.

Unspoken words cloak a heavy silence for what feels like hours, just tracing mindless patterns on his arm and listening to the way his heart slows to a normal pace beneath your cheek, grip around your torso never faltering. When his breaths dwindle to soft puffs against your temple you think he's already drifted off.

Until, "Do you remember when I convinced Namjoon to sign up for Mic Drop the first time. The day after my mom died?" His voice is gravelly, both with sleep and a sign of his withheld tears.

"Of course I do." You swivel in his arms to blink up at him curiously. Sure you remembered. After the funeral, your parents had taken Yoongi in — a repayment they called it. For helping Namjoon achieve his dreams. Of course, that was before you realised just how much Yoongi would help.

Yoongi became a part of the family for a short while. An extra seat at family dinners. Another pair of shoes by the front door. Another bed in Namjoon's room.

"Back then, I was too trusting. I thought that they wanted to help me...I thought that they saw me as their son." He spits the word with the bitterness of a man who was stripped of the title of 'son' before he knew what it really meant.

You think back to how Namjoon and Yoongi used to be. Joined at the hip, everyone used to say. Brothers.

"I think they did—"

"No." He stiffens. You bite your lip. "Namjoon never cared about me. He just saw me as a way to get to the top. And it worked."

You feel a pang in your chest.

"I'm sorry, he's your brother. I shouldn't be talking about this with you."

Yoongi almost turns away but you stop him by pressing your lips to his briefly. Telling him its okay. You understand.

"The nightmares." You say with an eagerness to change to subject before you could dwell on it too hard. Before you could admit to yourself that Yoongi was right. "You didn't say what they were about?"

"I'm getting there." He lets out a strained chuckle and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The action makes you shiver.

"The last time I saw my mother she said that she wasn't scared to die. She was just scared that she'd miss seeing me on the stage. She was the only one who believed in me." The next words come out choked. "She said that if she couldn't be there to see it then I needed to make as many goddamn people watch me lift that trophy as I could."

Mic Drop was never about the fame for Yoongi after all. It always ran deeper than that; a need not a want. A vulnerable promise left unfulfilled.

The realisation makes you blanch. All this time, all these years, you hadn't been able to see the real greed right in front of your eyes; your own brother.

The image of Yoongi, crumpled and broken on that fateful day all those years ago makes its way to the forefront of your mind.

The same anger flashes across his face now. "Namjoon took that from me. I don't care about the fans or the money or the trophy — none of that shit! He took my dream Y/N. Do you understand how that feels?"

You find yourself nodding, slowly at first and then with vigour as the dam inside you breaks and your own tears flood. "I do. I understand."

And you do. You understand why Yoongi is so determined to win Mic Drop. You understand why he hates Namjoon as much as he does. You understand how it feels to always fall second best to Namjoon, to be outcasted.

"I keep forgetting her face. I can't hear her voice in my head anymore." Yoongi's crying again now, heavy sobs no longer able to be contained. "But in the dreams she's so clear. The disappointment in her eyes, its so clear, Y/N." His words are interrupted by hiccups that leave him gasping.

"I'm sorry." You whisper once he calms. It's all you know how to say.

"Not your fault." He flashes you a watery smile, wiping away the tear on your cheek with his knuckle. It makes your heart flutter, even despite the guilt weighing on your shoulders.

You feel useless. It wasn't your fault directly but you couldn't help but feel like you wronged Yoongi. All of this happened right in front of your eyes but you were too blinded by Namjoon's broken promises to see it. All this time you had let Namjoon make you think Yoongi was the enemy.

"I'm here now." Hands plant on either side of his face, eyes meeting his. "I believe in you."

He doesn't need to say anything. The way he kisses you speaks louder than words.

All you can do now is hold him, tangling your legs with his and pulling the covers over your intertwined bodies, stroke his cheek with your thumb and pepper kisses to his strained forehead which relaxes beneath your affections.

"I'll make this right." You whisper into his hair after his eyes flutter closed and the sun starts peeking through the window, watching dust particles floating in a stream of light in the room's golden glow through lidded eyes. "I promise."

--

"I like this." Jimin nods enthusiastically along to the track playing through the headphones Namjoon placed over his ears. "Sounds like a hit to me."

Namjoon's face contorts into a scowl. He disagrees, obviously, if the disgusted shake of his head is any indication.

Mic Drop is just a few days away and Namjoon had decided to scrap his entire stage after Jimin scored a couple big last minute investors who suggested he do something new, something exciting. Something that pushed Runch Randa's limits.

It was a bold move, this close to the big day. But Namjoon was cocky, said that he had enough experience in the industry to win in his sleep. Practice was a waste of time anyway.

"Next one." He waves his hand, barely even glancing in your direction as you press a button that cuts off the track and makes another one start playing.

The bass is louder in this one and it makes Jimin startle backwards, the headphone jack slipping loose so the music plays through the speakers instead.

"Hoseok and I still need to put the finishing touches on this one but it's pretty catchy—"

Namjoon cuts you off with a sharp no, it was too upbeat for his Mic Drop performance. Said he needed something with grit, something that would make the judges feel something.

"Let me see that." He gestures for you to get up, slumping down into the chair you occupied and slotting himself beneath the studio desk to scroll through the open folder on the computer screen.

He skims through countless tracks, demoed and ready to be recorded at Namjoon's disposal — you were something of a writing machine, always scribbling down lyrics on receipts from the store or on the back of your hand and paired with Hoseok you were a dream team; he always seemed to find a beat that fit perfectly. Unfortunately Namjoon's straight face gives away his disinterest in any of them.

"None of these will work." Namjoon throws the keyboard down with a force that makes you wince, jaw tightening as he presses his knuckles to his eyes in frustration. "I'm going to fucking lose."

You are about to tell him to write the fucking track himself like everyone else if none of yours were good enough for him but Jimin flashes you a glance. Don't make things worse.

You settle instead for a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at your touch. It had been a while since you'd been in the same room for longer than ten minutes and when you take in the gauntness of his cheekbones you briefly wonder if he's been eating properly. He always did forget when you weren't around to remind him.

You suck in a breath to give you strength. "There must be one that you like."

His lips purse and he disgruntledly goes back to scrolling again, clicking on a couple titles that draw his interest. You and Jimin let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"What's this?" Namjoon's eyes narrow as he presses play on a track that sends you flying forward, heart in your mouth and colour leaving your face as a song plays that you swore to never show to anyone.

Yoongi's song. The one you wrote after that night in his studio. Probably the best song you had ever written.

"That's not — I was supposed to delete that one." The heat in your cheeks as you push him aside roughly to wrestle with the pause button has you hiding behind your hair, as if he would somehow know this wasn't just an ordinary song. That it was a song about his enemy, for god's sake.

Namjoon's slaps you away from the computer, head bobbing to the beat and you fall back into your seat in defeat, fingers crossed behind your back that he would hate it as much as the others.

"I love it."

Oh no.

"This is the one!"

Shit shit shit!

"A-are you sure?" You're rambling now, words slipping out way too fast and Jimin seems puzzled at your lack of elation at Namjoon's decisiveness. "I'm sure I could write something much better if you just give me some more time—"

Namjoon's arms pull you into a tight embrace before you can finish, your nose ending up smushed against his chest as he practically vibrates with excitement. Your body goes stiff, hands dangling at your sides awkwardly. Considering Namjoon's coldness towards you as of late his sudden display of affection takes you by surprise. Mostly because despite your physical closeness it only makes you feel even more distant from your brother.

A sigh of relief escapes when he finally sets you free, only to be replaced with pure horror as you watch him stick a USB drive into the computer and load up the song before sliding it in his back pocket with a grin while you have no choice but to stand there helplessly.

"I'm totally gonna win!" His change in attitude is abrupt but seems to soothe Jimin who nods enthusiastically. You feel sick. "I can't wait to see the look on Yoongi's face when he hears this shit."

The smirk on his face washes you with dread. If only he knew.

Yoongi was right. Secrets always find a way to come and bite you in the ass.

--

Every rap of your knuckles against the run down studio door seems to echo ominously through the alley like an omen.

"Y/N?"

As soon as the bolt wrangles across and the wooden panel flies open to reveal a disgruntled Yoongi, a warmth seems to thaw through the icy evening chill that, along with your nerves, is making your knees knock together.

His chest is warm against your cheek when he pulls you into his arms, the smell of cologne and black coffee consuming your senses. It's enough to make your tense limbs fall slack, curling into his firm frame instinctively. Finally. You can breathe again.

"Hey." He mumbles sweetly against your temple, a trace of a smile in his voice like he was happy to see you. You silently wonder if he'll still be so happy once he hears what you have to say.

The studio is basked in darkness, the contours of his face barely visible in the blue glow emanating from his desktop monitor. There's a dent in the cushion of the adjacent chair, Yoongi's hair sticking up at the back where the pair of headphones slung around his neck had sat moments ago.

"I can go if you were working, wouldn't want to interrupt." As the words are leaving your lips you cross your fingers, selfishly hopeful that he would send you away and you could avoid the conversation that was about to follow. Blame it all on circumstance, leave saying that you at least tried.

But that would be keeping a secret. It would make you just as bad as the rest. And the thought of him finding out from someone else was enough to make your palms sweat and enough to keep your feet planted against the carpet determinedly.

Yoongi's hands find you like he can't bare to keep them away, dragging you across the threshold without hesitation. "S'fine. Work better with you here anyway." He smiles and you try to return it but your lips are pressed into a permanent line, like they're scared the daunting words you have to say will come spilling out before you were ready -- if you ever would be ready. As you slump into a chair and watch him wheel another one around to face you with his arms slung lazily over the back, you realise there is no going back.

Considering the countdown to Mic Drop was nearing its end, less than twenty four hours to go before Yoongi would be stood opposite Namjoon on stage in front of thousands, he looked the epitome of relaxation, unlike the nerves in your chest making you jitter.

"Jin's on his way with takeout, I would've asked him to get more if I knew you were coming but I'm sure we can share— babe, are you alright?"

Babe. The endearment had started slipping from his lips frequently recently. At first he tried to cover it up with nervous laughter but now he was brazen, enjoying the way the word tasted on his tongue. It would be so easy to force a smile, to push "the right thing" to the back of your mind and let the selfish part of your heart accept his affections, even knowing you're about to hurt him.

But the clock ticking away on the wall sounds deafening with every beat of silence that follows, twisting the rings on your fingers until you could no longer distinguish the sound from the sinister thrum of your heart.

You can't hold it in any more.

"I need to tell you something." It comes out a hoarse whisper, nearly unintelligible beneath the stream of hip hop from the hifi system in the corner.

"What is it?" Yoongi's concerned eyes never leave you as he reaches over to switch it off, the room now draped in a shroud of quiet. The reality of the situation seeps into every dark corner and right into your bones.

"It's about us. Kind of."

Yoongi rolls closer, stopping your teeth from nibbling your cuticles by slotting his fingers between yours like a perfect puzzle piece. It seems to ground you, like you're filled with helium and he's the weight stopping your feet from floating off the ground. For a second you think everything will be okay. Nothing, not even this betrayal, could come between what you had.

"Did Namjoon find out?" Even in the dim light you see the panic stricken raise of his brows. When your head shakes in a violent negative they smooth back down, relieved, as if nothing you could say next would be worse than that. No matter how hard you try to meet his eyes you can't.

His hand squeezes gently then. You muster up the courage to squeeze back. Perhaps it would soften the blow that was about to follow.

"His song. The one I wrote for Mic Drop...it's about you. I thought you should know. Before you hear it for yourself."

Nothing but an immeasurable silence followed. "Oh."

Yoongi is unreadable, almost as if he didn't hear the words hanging like heavy storm clouds over your heads. You expected him to be angry, to shout -- even cry, maybe. Not knowing how he was feeling was even worse than any scenario you had imagined. Made you feel like you were back to square one and he was shutting you out of the window into his soul you'd worked so hard to wriggle through.

For a second you think the sudden cold against your palm is a result of the numbness coursing through your veins like you were dunked in ice water, but then you see his hand retreat to his lap, eyes wide and staring at it in disbelief like he'd been scalded.

"I...I don't understand." He sounds choked, face contorting with pain. Like it does when he wakes thrashing in the night with a bad dream. Unlike those times though, he doesn't levitate towards you for comfort, just stares at you vacantly like he's far, far away despite being physically close enough for your knees to brush.

"It was written after the first time we...y'know...here--" You glance around, convinced your mind is playing tricks when you see a vision of you in Yoongi's lap across the room, lips attached like nothing else in the world mattered. It feels far away and out of reach when the real Yoongi gets to his feet, creating a distance between you that is foreign, his form staggering across the room so that you could see the way his back tensed beneath his t-shirt when he grips the edge of his desk for support, processing.

"I don't understand."

"I was emotional. It just happened--"

"No. What I don't understand is why you're letting him perform it?" Fists send a stack of sheet music flying to the ground. His lip trembles, face red, with anger or affliction, you can't tell which.

"Yoongi--" You reach for him, fingertips barely grazing his arm before he's smacking you away with a violent shake of his head. He'd never resisted you before. Not even in the beginning.

"You expect me to just sit back and listen to Namjoon of all people rapping the lyrics my girlfr-- that you wrote dissing me? This has to be a fucking joke."

"It's not that kind of track!" You hug your body pitifully. It's the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling apart as his mouth spits a venom that makes your heart shatter. His eyes fill with one thing. Betrayal. "I'm sorry. I just...I can't keep choosing between you anymore, Yoongi. He's my brother."

"And what am I, huh?"

Every second that passes, every stutter or attempt at explanation that leaves your mouth makes Yoongi crumple. You see it in the way his adam's apple bobs, how his shoulders slacken.

For some reason you can't open up. Tell him he means more to you than anyone ever had. That you thought your heart might really break and bleed out on the carpet if he didn't feel the same way.

Instead you settle for, "Why are you so mad? It's my job! I had no choice."

Without warning he's rushing at you, trembling palms capturing your face and pressing his forehead to yours. His breaths shake, chest heaving as he battles internally with the words flying from his lips like a ghostly breath across yours.

"Because I fucking love you, Y/N! Can't you see it? I fucking love you and your bastard of a brother always finds a way to ruin things between us!"

His admission stuns you, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over in a silent stream down your cheeks.

He loves you. He loves you.

"Yoongi--" Words just won't come. Nothing feels right.

Because you love him too. It had taken you this long to admit it to yourself but it was clear now. Every breath, every beat of your heart, every fucking song you would ever write was for him. It scared you before but now, stood here in front of him, you know it's true.

Something hopeless niggles at the back of your head, stops you from spilling everything to him. If he loves you, how can he expect you to choose?

If words couldn't make him see the truth then you'd just have to show him the only way you knew how. Straight from your heart.

You're crying as you dig around in the bottom of your bag to retrieve a USB, pressing it into his curled fist firmly and begging him with your eyes to understand. "Just listen to the song. Please. It'll explain everything. I promise."

You begin to back up and his hand shoots out to stop you, pulling you roughly into his chest which only makes you cry harder, tears creating a wet patch on his T-shirt.

"Please don't leave me. Not again." It's a fragile whisper.

It's all too much.

"I can't choose any longer, Yoongi. This has to end."

With one last look at his crumpled face you flee from his studio with eyes just as watery as the first time you'd walked down this very alley. Except this time it takes all of your strength to resist running back into his arms.

Yoongi can only stand there and watch you go, the USB hot against his hand.

This has to end. The words make his chest burn and he hates it. Hates feeling weak. You always make him feel so fucking weak.

If he can't have you then he had no choice but to do everything in his power to make sure he got the next best thing.

Suddenly it all seemed clear. Yoongi knew what he had to do.

--

The arena is almost desolate when you creep inside.

Just a sea of empty seats stretching out from both sides of you where you sit in one of the stands, nibbling the skin around your thumb and watching Namjoon pace the stage below.

It's gone midnight by now. Most of the crew went home hours ago. Not Namjoon though. He stayed to practice some more. Said he couldn't get the choreography quite right.

You tried going home but you couldn't get the fight out of your head. Everything reminded you of Yoongi and your thoughts started to wander. Did he hate you? Was he listening to the song right now? Why hasn't he called? Why is your own bed not as comfy as the one you shared with Yoongi?

It all got too much eventually. Something told you that you weren't welcome at the apartment so you ended up heading towards the only other place you knew, surprised to find your brother had the same idea.

A single spotlight illuminates the stage as Namjoon twists his body in time with the one, two, three, four he unconsciously mumbles under his breath, face contorted with a stark concentration that flits to impatience when his foot slips and he misses the beat. Again. It just about sends him over the edge.

"I can't do this anymore!" A microphone squeals and hits the ground with a thump. It reverberates through the arena, your hands flying to your ears as you watch Namjoon let loose all his anger on an innocent amp stand before collapsing into a heap at the edge of the stage. "Fuck this shit!"

You're flying down the stairs to his aid before he can do any serious damage to the stage equipment — or worse, to himself.

Namjoon scoffs when he hears the stage creak under your feet. "Nice of you to show up."

It stings. You snap.

"What happened to you, Namjoon?" You look at his sunken cheekbones, his curled fists, the blackness behind his eyes. "I don't even recognise you anymore."

He just sniffs and says nothing. The distance between you feels bigger than ever.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

A secret? Since when did Namjoon abide by a policy of honesty?

He takes your shocked silence as a yes.

"I'm calling first thing and dropping out of the competition."

Your world stutters to a standstill, breath knocked out of your lungs.

Dropping out?

"Shit Joon...if this is about Yoongi—"

He waves you off.  "No. This is about me."

You can't breathe. This can't be real. "I don't understand..."

"I've made up my mind. I can't do this any more. I used to love being up here you know?"

You follow his gaze, out over the empty arena. The last time you were here every seat was filled. You were down there, part of the crowd, packed into the cramped space with barely enough room to breathe.

Imagining how it must feel to be up here comes easy. If you close your eyes you can hear the screams, feel the body heat. Smell the sweat and the anticipation. See thousand faces looking up in awe. At you. It makes your blood run hot.

You much prefer being up here, you decide.

Namjoon brings you back down. "Now it just feels like a chore. I look out and all I see is disappointed faces. I can't pretend for them anymore."

"People travel miles to see you Joon! No one is disappointed."

"Not the fans. They love me. Well, Runch Randa, at least." He cracks a half smile. "It's me whose disappointed. In Kim Namjoon."

You always thought your brother was sure of himself. He's cocky, confident and above all fearless. It's his biggest strength (and his most irritating quality sometimes) but it's what you always admired most about him.

Clearly you didn't know your brother as well as you thought you did.

You bite your lip. "Why?"

He turns to face you, leaning back into his arms while he searches for the right words and, little to your knowledge, gathers the courage to confide in you.

"Because I re-entered Mic Drop for all the wrong reasons. I just wanted to prove myself, you know? Win for real this time, not just by default." He swallows. "But then I saw Yoongi perform. And to be honest? I saw you. I saw how much you care about the music. How you come alive when you're writing lyrics or when you're in the studio." His smile is woeful. "Im supposed to feel like that. But I don't. I never did. It's like I'm always asleep, y'know?"

You did know. Every time you lifted a camera. Every time you pressed the shutter and snapped another shot of Namjoon on stage you felt your soul grow exhausted.

It makes the distance between you and Namjoon close a little. For once you understand each other and you don't have to hide how you feel any more.

"I can't stop thinking that it's your name the fans should be screaming. Not mine. They deserve better than me."

"But you're the best performer I know!" You rush. It always seemed like he wanted to keep you out of the spotlight at all costs. "Why now?"

He lets out a deep sigh. "I'm a selfish person, Y/N. I thought I was protecting you from... all this." He gestures around him. "The late nights and the paparazzi and the criticism and a fucking manager on your back all the time." His eye roll makes you snort, sharing a brief smile at the image of hardworking Jimin mumbling into his headset like a man posessed.

He's quickly serious again though. "Fame comes with a price. But I realize now that the price is worth it if your hearts in the right place and...what I'm trying to say, Y/N, is that mine never was."

You let your chin fall into your palm. Huh. "So that's the big secret?"

"Actually...there's something else." He shifts nervously. "I know about you and Yoongi."

You freeze, scrambling to your knees with wide eyes. "Wait, Joon, let me explain—"

"Let me finish!" Namjoon brushes you off with a breathless laugh, nodding to himself, as if finally coming to a solid conclusion about coming clean when his eyes meet yours. "He's in love with you."

This time it feels like the whole world goes into overdrive. You forget how to breathe.

"What...how...huh?"

It's Namjoon's palm squeezing your knee reassuringly that brings you back down.

"He always was. Even back before things got messed up." A deep breath. Something was coming, you could tell by the way his eye twitched nervously. "That's why me and Yoongi fought. That's why I...I lied and said that I wrote the song the night of the Mic Drop final...accused him of plagiarism—" Your mouth gapes. "I know! I know. Don't look at me like that. I can see the irony."

It all makes sense now. She's a part of this, Namjoon, whether you like it or not.

The reason Namjoon sacrificed his best friend wasn't for fame but for your sake?

You want to fly at your brother, scream at him for keeping this from you for so long. For turning you against Yoongi. For keeping you from the only person to make you feel safe. Feel Happy.

But his eyes are void of anything other than regret and you can tell his betrayal had been playing on his mind all these years.

"Point is, I didn't want you to get hurt." He shuffles awkwardly, not knowing what to do with your silence. "That's not an excuse, I know. Do you hate me?"

"No." Your voice sounds small. His chest heaves with relief. "I just wish you had been honest with me before. Saved us a ton of trouble."

"I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was a shitty brother in the end anyway."

It's strange. Even after all the fights and the resentment and the goddamn secrets, you don't think Namjoon is a shitty brother. Sure, his actions and intentions were shitty there was no denying it. But now it's like the puzzle pieces finally click into place and the full photograph comes into view, crystal clear.

All this time, he just wanted to protect you, when you should have been protecting him. He was hurting too, you just never knew it.

"It's not too late, Joon. Just be happy for me okay? I think..." If Namjoon plucked up the courage to tell you his secrets then it was only fair that you did too. "I love him too."

A pinkish tinge caresses your face when you finally admit it, both out loud and to yourself.

You love Yoongi. And now all the cards are on the table there's nothing holding you back from it.

Now you just need to tell Yoongi.

"I know. You think I don't know who that song is about?" The grin that spreads across Namjoon's features is sincere."And I am. Happy for you, I mean."

Now the truth is out in the open it feels like your wounds are already beginning to heal. You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. It was time to forgive.

A thought suddenly strikes you. "So what are you gonna do now?

Namjoon fumbles in the back pocket of his jeans, thrusting something towards you. A polaroid picture. The same photo you'd seen at Yoongi's studio.

He kept it, too?

"This kid." His finger jabs at the innocent face of a younger Namjoon, arm wrapped around the shoulders of his best friend. "I didn't get enough time to live as him before I became Runch Randa. I think it's time to just live as Namjoon for a while."

"But what about Big Hit? It'll fall apart and mom and dad will kill you—"

"No it won't. They have you. I already talked to them, in fact. There's a stage with your name on it right here." He pats the ground. "If you want it, that is."

You blink, stunned. You? "I...I don't know if I can."

"I believe in you." Namjoon says. "And I'll be cheering you on from the front row."

You'd have to think about it long and hard but you can't help the grin that appears on your face. Things were going to be okay.

An urge rises in your chest to tell Yoongi this news. To see the way his face would light up as you started the journey to following your own dreams, like he always said you should.

You and Yoongi were going to be okay.

"Hey! Maybe I should try photography now I have some free time." Namjoon tugs at the camera strap around your neck, lifting his eye to the viewfinder and laughing when you cover the lens with your hands. "Damn I'm kinda good!"

You bump his shoulder teasingly, the belly laughter that spills into the arena feeling like the most natural thing in the world.

You're only interrupted by approaching footsteps. Jimin bursts into the arena.

"Namjoon," he pants. "I have some bad news."

--

It's compulsory for all competitors to attend the crowning ceremony. Even those who get disqualified.

RUNCH RANDA BLACKLISTED FROM COMPETING IN FUTURE HIP HOP COMPETITIONS AFTER PLAGIARISM SCANDAL SURFACES.

Just one of the devastating headlines that hit the media after the judges panel received an anonymous tip in the form of a USB stick that exposed Namjoon once and for all. The same USB that you pressed into Yoongi's hands just hours before Namjoon's disqualification.

RAPPER GLOSS TO SNATCH MIC DROP TROPHY IN SHOCKING REVENGE FOR HIS BRUTAL DEFEAT.

Namjoon reads it aloud in the back of the car. He laughs at the end but it does nothing to lighten the mood.

The windows are tinted but you can still see the hoards of fans lining the streets, eyes steeped in betrayal.

You should hear the way they boo as your brother drives past. You should hear the way they chant his name instead.

Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!

But you don't. You don't hear anything. You don't feel anything. All you can think of is the same three words, throbbing in your chest over and over again.

I love you.

Did he mean them at all?

"Y/N? Did you hear me?"

"Hm?" You look up. Namjoon's staring at you with concern.

"Your phone's ringing again."

It's no surprise when you pull out your phone and see a contact picture of yourself and Yoongi gracing the screen. He's been calling all morning. It takes every strength inside you to tap the red decline button.

"Aren't you gonna talk to him?"

Another call lights up the screen.

"Not like this."

With trembling fingers you shut your phone off all together.

--

Paparazzi cameras flash brazenly as you step out of the black company car, following Namjoon with your hood pulled tightly round your face. A hoard of body guards usher you through a back door to the arena. The main entrance is reserved for notable guests only, you learn.

While Namjoon's presence usually makes the room buzz with an electric energy, there's no excitement when he enters now. An awkward hush falls like a shroud as he elbows his way past pitiful stares. It's like someone died. In a way it's true; there's no trace of Runch Randa in Namjoon's hunched stance. Here, the dead still walks for everyone to see.

Jimin's waiting by the stage door. No words are exchanged as he slips passes into your hands. Namjoon's has a big red strike through the word TALENT, "guest" scribbled all too generously below it to match your own.

It's nearing show time. They're just waiting for you to take your seats, Jimin says, though you barely hear him. You're too busy imagining what you would do if you bumped into him right now, heart pounding whenever you catch a glimpse of blue or hear a laugh you're convinced you recognise.

Deep down you know exactly where you have to go to find him. To find Yoongi.

"I'll join you in a second, okay?"

Namjoon looks nervous, the first time you've ever seen him with such a severe case of the jitters. His smile is empty when you rub his forearm reassuringly. "Don't be too long. If I'm gonna do this I want you by my side."

You manage a smile. "Always."

With that, Namjoon takes a deep breath and pushes out into the life of the arena and you find your feet numbly carrying you down back corridors you know by heart until you reach his dressing room.

Your heart is blind, you think. Even now the shattered fragments ache for him, beat a little faster knowing he's just behind this door.

Why can't you go back to hating him, just like you did before? Deep down you know it's because you never really hated Yoongi. You don't think you ever could.

Forgiving him, though? Some wounds never heal, no matter how badly you want them to.

You pause outside the door. The stupid gold star that used to be there has been scraped off, replaced with a new name tag. Gloss. You put your ear to the wood. Nothing.

A deep breath and you find the handle. Should you burst in and give him a piece of your mind? Knock and enter politely? You can't help but scoff. Shouldn't he be the one coming to find you?

He calls your name before you can do either.

"Y/N?"

Fuck. Is hearing his voice supposed to hurt this bad?

You don't know what you're expecting when you turn around. Something different about him perhaps. A sign that he isn't the person you had grown to know. Grown to love.

But there he is. All messy blue hair and bitten lips and eyes a little red around the edges. Your Yoongi.

Your arms curl around your body like a band aid, holding you together. You can't crumble. Not now.

He looks stony but his eyes flicker with tender remorse when he sees the tears staining your cheeks.

His hands reach for you instinctively. The same hands that make love to his piano in the shitty apartment above the coffee shop. The same hands that could make you fall apart with even a delicate touch. You want to run into them so bad it hurts. But now they're stained red with betrayal and he chokes when you recoil.

Seconds feel like hours as you just stand there taking each other in like it's been years. It's only been a day or two. Maybe three? You can't remember. They all rolled into one meaningless blur of angry tears and insomnia.

You had a whole speech prepared for the moment you finally faced him again. But there are no words that feel right. You just need to know. If he meant every touch and every inside joke and those three words that make your heart soar despite how badly you want to hate him. And there's only one way to find out.

"Why did you do it?"

Your voice sounds timid and scared, like you feel. He winces.

"Y/N, let me explain—"

"Explain what?" Your voice raises shakily."How you lied to me? How you used me?"

He rushes towards you and it takes all of your strength to draw back, especially when his eyes look so frantic, so desperate. Like he's having one of his nightmares. It tugs at your heart because this time the nightmare is real and you're living in it.

"It's not like that—"

"Did you ever even want me? What about all that fair and square bullshit you told me huh?"

"Of course I wanted you Y/N...want you." His eyes fill with pain. "This wasn't meant to happen. I know how this looks but I just panicked!"

You rush at him, fists curled like that day in his studio except this time he doesn't stop you when you start hitting his chest, vision blurry.

"He was going to pull out! Namjoon was going to let you win! So that I could -- we could be happy!"

"What I...I don't understand?" His mouth gapes, processing. "But you didn't..." He swallows, like remembering is painful. "When I confessed, you didn't say it back. I thought we were over! I thought I had nothing to lose, Y/N. He had already won..."

You remember your words. I can't do this anymore. A misunderstanding that would never have happened if he just—

"Did you even listen to the song?"

His face drops at the mention of the song. "No." He looks like he might cry. "I was angry! I...I acted impulsively. I never got the chance..."

You bared your soul in that song in ways you never thought you could. He wasn't supposed to find out how you felt about him this way. Not here, when you're falling apart and there's nothing you can do to stop it. But it all comes tumbling out before you can change your mind.

"I wrote that song because I love you, Yoongi!"

Silence. He has to grip the wall to steady himself.

"Y-you love me?"

"I love you." The words feel indulgent on your tongue and even now as they hang heavy in the air and you're overcome with an indescribable combination of grief and longing, you mean them with every bone in your body.

You rush at him. You can't help it. Can't resist how your head falls into his chest and how you cry harder when you breathe in his scent one last time, sobs muffled by his hoodie. But he hears them, you know he does, because his hands are trembling when they pull you closer like you're fragile enough to break.

"I love you. So fucking much it hurts, Yoongi."

You're weak. You're so so weak.

You don't know why you do it but you grab his face with both hands and then you're kissing him. Showing him how much you need him, how much you mean your words. His hand cups your jaw like always and his lips press back with a tender desperation and you believe him. You believe that he loves you. Whole and true. Because in that moment, with his lips on yours, everything is okay. He's your Yoongi and you're his Y/N and he loves you.

But then you pull back and he's crying too and everything's broken and your heart goes numb.

"I'm sorry. God, Y/N I'm so sorry. If I could take it back I promise I would."

You muster up all the strength you can. You know what you have to do.

"I'm giving you a choice, Yoongi. You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over. For real."

He tries to kiss you again, grabbing at you frantically when you turn your cheek.

"Y/N, don't do this. We love each other. That's all that matters right?" He musters up the closest thing to a smile he can manage, like he's convincing himself more than he is you. "You don't have to—"

"No." You pull away from grip. It feels cold and wrong. "I have to do this. If you love me like you say you'll...you'll understand."

You turn but he grabs your wrist, pins you in place.

"I can't lose you to him again, Y/N. I...I already lost you once and I don't think I..."

The hard faced Min Yoongi you once knew is gone. All that's left is the vulnerable man in front of you who holds your heart in your hands with a grip so tight it scares you.

"He can't win...please."

You suck in a final breath.

"Please what? Don't make you choose between me and that stupid fucking trophy? You did this to yourself, Yoongi." You turn and this time he lets you. "The only person pushing me away is you."

"Y/N please, wait!"

You don't dare turn to look at him as you walk away. Not even when he pleads or you hear him fall to his knees, a strangled sob echoing down the hall. You're scared you might run back to him if you do.

You don't let yourself break down until you turn the corner. Yoongi doesn't follow.

--

"I'm okay." You assure Namjoon as you take a seat beside him inside the arena. It's a lie, of course. No amount of cold water splashed on your face in the bathroom could prepare you for this moment.

You're just in time. The ceremony is already starting. The host is taking the stage and the lights are dimming but you're too numb to care.

You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over.

Your decision is final. There's no going back. You've cried all your tears. You've said all that needed to be said. All you're left with now is a sickly feeling in your stomach as you look down at the trophy sat in a display case center stage.

We love each other. A slither of hope tugs at your heart strings. You barely manage to suppress it.

"Sorry! Excuse me!" The empty seat to your left sinks under the weight of Hoseok as he clumsily stumbles into the arena, late as always.

He offers you a smile which turns to a frown when you only stare past him vacantly, straining your neck to keep an eye on the stage.

A hand covers yours. You freeze at the contact, only relaxing when you peer through the darkness to find Hoseok staring at you gently. His voice is a whisper. "Whatever happens I'm here for you, okay?"

A wave of emotion crashes through you and you think you might cry again. You can't make your lips sound out a response but Hoseok understands and you feel a little stronger when you turn your attention back to the ceremony knowing you have someone by your side.

"As you all know there have been some...complications with this year's finalists." The host coughs and fiddles with his tie awkwardly. "But we are glad to announce that we do in fact have a winner here with us today!"

The crowd chants Yoongi's name again. Namjoon stiffens. Your free hand grabs his and he squeezes it tight.

"So without further ado, I would like to welcome this year's winner, Gloss!"

The crowd goes wild but the sound is drowned out by a ringing in your ears. It's like you're underwater, holding your breath as you wait and wait for him to take the stage and all the oxygen to slip away.

One...two...three...

You get to ten seconds, then twenty seconds and then thirty and by the time you get to forty you feel yourself break the surface, take a heaving breath.

You're floating. He chose you.

He loves you! Yoongi loves you! He—

No.

You're seeing things. You must be. That can't be Yoongi's face lighting up every screen in the room. That can't be him crossing the stage and taking the trophy from the hands of the host with a smug grin. That can't be Yoongi holding it up in the air like a martyr.

That can't be your Yoongi. This is a stranger.

You crash back to reality when Namjoon wraps his arms around your waist and you realise your sobbing. Sobbing so hard it hurts your chest and your lungs burn with misuse and you're sure the tears will never stop.

"It's okay! Shh."

Nothing is okay. Nothing.

Yoongi's face is still blown up on the big screens in painful detail. The smile on his face falters when he looks out into the crowd and spots you instantly. Sees you crumple.

There are two things Min Yoongi ever loved in this world.

His music and you.

The trophy feels cold in his hands. The crowd gasps as he rushes to the edge of the stage and calls out to you.

"Y/N wait! I'm sorry—"

You hear his voice through the speakers but it's too late. You're already running.

Yoongi's mic drops to the ground.

--

Yoongi's nightmares are back. Except this time they're different.

When he closes his eyes you're there. Smiling and laughing like you used to. His heart warms and he reaches for you...

And then he realises it's not you. Just a picture, blown up on the big screen as you cross the stage at the front of the room he's suddenly aware he's in.

He glances around at the indistinguishable people around him, all smiling and clapping ferociously. Why isn't he happy?

The bottle in his hand is half empty. He's realises he's screaming. So hard his throat burns and his lungs beg for air but you don't even look his way. He screams your name, over and over again. Nobody seems to hear him.

Namjoon's there too. Bouncing a baby on his knee, maybe one or two years old if he has to guess.

"That'll be you one day," He whispers, but its deafening to Yoongi. "Only the very best for my niece." The baby giggles up at him, stubby fingers wrapped around his thumb.

She has your eyes. The very same eyes Yoongi would look into like they held everything in the world. The very same eyes Yoongi saw fill with pain on the last day he saw you before things got messed up.

She has Hoseok's nose. And his mouth, too, small and heart shaped. The resemblance is uncanny as Hoseok appears beside Namjoon, takes the baby girl into his arms and places a sweet kiss on her forehead.

Then there you are. The same old Y/N. The same smile that makes your eyes crinkle and the same laughter than makes his heart melt. The same girl who used to love him.

Though it's clear that that much is no longer true. Not when you lean up to kiss Hoseok on the cheek, Namjoon drawing you into a hug when you present the trophy in your hands to them with an elated laugh.

A family.

It feels like he's been punched in the stomach.

Yoongi always thought winning Mic Drop would mean he had everything. Fame. Money. Glory.

He didn't need family. He always got by on his own.

It took holding the whole world in the palm of his hand to realise none of it meant anything if he didn't have you by his side.

You were his everything. But he was too stupid to see it and he let you slip away.

It's too late now.

A hand appears on his shoulder. It's cold, grip bruising. The voice that comes next gives him chills every single time.

"So was it worth it?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi tries to answer but his vision is blurred with hot tears now and he's on his hands and knees and he's screaming.

And when he wakes up at ass o clock, sweaty and gasping for air, he still finds himself reaching for your warmth beside him.

But all his fingers find are cold sheets and bitterness.

extended a/n: okay so if you have reached this far then you are a TROOPER. a trooper who i love and appreciate endlessly for reading 30k of my waffle lmao im so sorry <3 ksksksk so this fic has been in my head for the longest time and in my drafts for almost five months so im super attached to it and putting this out is like the scariest ever?? i really put my heart into this piece, like y’all don’t understand how many times it’s cropped up in my dreams and I’ve woken up like MUST WRITE. it’s far from perfect but i tried my best!! i can’t tell you how many scenes had to be rewritten until i was happy enough with them bc this fic is literally my baby in every sense of the word and i wanted to get it right :( although that just made the ending even more SOUL DESTROYING to write for me ugh i had the ending set in my mind before i even started writing but there were moments where i jus wanted yoongi and oc to be happy ever after :( but alas, I feel like this ending was far more realistic for them and i couldn’t go against my gut sigh. there may be a few drabbles planned in the future tho to make up for the angst :) Anyway!!! I’ll stop rambling. Thank you for reading this far, if anyone has. TROOPER. love you <3

updated 12/01/19: drabble #1 | drabble #2 | drabble #3 

#ksmutclub #bts #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi imagine #btswriterscollective #btsguild #kwordsmiths #thebtstown #yoonkooknetwork #yoongi scenario #my writing #fic: mic drop #love yourself collab

[acerine]

Can I request a naruto x reader? Where she’s apart of team 7 and her and naruto was dating but they fight and break up. Which causes her to get depressed and develop an eating disorder and everyone gets worried when she shows up to train bc she looks sickly and her bones stick out badly. Just angst with happy ending? (You don’t have to write it if you’re uncomfortable with this topic. I suffer from anorexia and it’s hard to find stories on this topic. I do understand if you don’t wanna write it)

Hold Me

Pairing: Naruto x Reader

Warnings: Angst, eating disorder, like one cuss word

A/N: I don't have a problem with writing about disorders but I just get worried that i’m not portraying them properly, please reach out to someone if you are suffering. aaaand that ending wasn't as happy as I wanted but I think it works. 

I don't have much knowledge on anorexia so im so sorry if I didn't write about it properly. 

masterlist

uzumaki naruto

You groaned and plopped yourself on a bench near the entrance to the village, exhausted from the search for your boyfriend. He had dashed off immediately after training was finished without a word to you; again. You were getting worried due to how often this was happening, especially worried because he had been speaking to you less -- the only time you really saw him was during Team 7 training. You had asked Sasuke and Kakashi if they knew where he was going but they seemed to be just as clueless as you.

Looking up and seeing the sun set, you decided it was time to head home. He’d tell you whatever was troubling him eventually; you could only hope at least. “Nope -- don’t doubt him, he's never given you a reason to.” you softly mumbled to yourself, but the creeping heaviness in your heart told you otherwise.

As you walked through the village you felt your stomach grumble, the exhaustion from training and searching finally catching up to you. You decided to stop by Ichiraku’s -- it was on the way to your house and their ramen is rejuvenating, especially after gruesome training with Sasuke. shudder. He certainly gives training his all, the developing bruises were proof of that.

“Naruto that’s your 3rd bowl!” a voice giggled, bringing you back to reality.

Did they just say Naruto? Of course your boyfriend would be here! Why didn't you think of checking Ichiraku’s first? You quietly chuckled to yourself as you walked towards the voices, excited to finally see your boyfriend and share some ramen with him. But you certainly weren't expecting to see your boyfriend with his arm around Sakura nor did you expect to see how close their faces were

...

“Naruto...what are you doing?” your voice cracked slightly. Naruto and Sakura both halted their movements. Slowly he turned his head to gaze at you, “W-What are you doing here Y/n?”

Sakura looked guilty and avoided your gaze; immediately letting you know that she was aware of your relationship and what she was doing. “No seriously, what are you doing here with her?” you forced out, the strain in your voice becoming less evident, your anger overpowering your sadness.

“I was just catching up with Sakura, I haven't seen her since she started working with the other medical ninja!” He yelled out in an attempt to defend himself, his eyes darting away from you to his bowl. “Y/n calm down...it’s not what it looks like.” Sakura softly spoke. You scoffed, “Then why cant either of you look at me?”

No response.

After a minute of silence you had had enough, “Okay well don't stop on my behalf. Have fun with Sakura, Naruto.” Turning around, you began to walk away before feeling a grip on your upper arm, “Wait what's that supposed to mean?”

“Im pretty sure you know what it means.” Ripping your arm away from his grasp you sluggishly began your walk home, your body in pain from training and from your aching heart.

...

You closed the door behind you, locking it, and diving face-first onto your couch. The events from before finally registering in your head. Soft sobs began to fill the empty room and the couch pillows became stained with tears. What did she have that you didn't? You knew he used to have a crush on her when he was younger but you thought he outgrew it. Hell, you thought she had a crush on Sasuke, since when has she been interested in Naruto? Your mind was filled with questions.

Your stomach grumbled once again, this time louder than before. You didn't have the energy to get up and make yourself anything -- you weren't even sure if you even had food at home. Moving into a sitting position you glanced at the kitchen before getting up and heading to your room, you could eat in the morning after you slept off today’s events.

...

You woke up and slowly got ready for training; not mentally prepared to face Naruto after your break up. You felt a pang in your chest at the thought of his name -- making you aware of how difficult training was going to be. You sighed and began to make your way to the training grounds, taking a look at the kitchen. The last time you ate was yesterday morning but you felt fine, although the painful growl said otherwise. Shaking your head, you moved towards the door and left.

...

Naruto hadn’t showed up to training today. Kakashi said he had gone on a year training mission with Jiraiya. How convenient. They could both tell something was off between you two. “How about we cancel practice today? I think we deserve a day off.” Sasuke rolled his eyes at Kakashi, “And what are we supposed to do while you read a crappy book?”

“How about you two be actual teenagers for once?” Kakashi grumbled before heading off, leaving you and Sasuke alone with nothing to do. “Well since the moron and Kakashi aren’t here do you want to train with me?” Sasuke was pretty hardcore when it came to training — seriously, this kid did not know how to hold back. Training was life or death with him but you didn’t know what else you could possibly do on your free time other than wallow in your self pity, so you agreed.

Yeah, let’s just say you were better off moping in your room.

...

Your body felt so weak from training, the only fuel being emitted into your body came from a banana. You were constantly burning away calories and weren’t eating enough to refill them but you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat a proper meal. After finding Naruto and Sakura 12 months ago, you hadn’t felt hungry. Sure your body was weak and your stomach growled occasionally but you weren’t hungry. You hated how everyone said otherwise.

“Y/N are you sure you’re not hungry? You’re starting to look like a pile of bones...”

“Seriously, i think you should eat something.”

“Your movements are becoming sluggish, fix it.”

It was all you heard now. You felt fine. You looked fine. Why was everyone freaking out? Was it because you lost a bit of weight?!

Annoyed, you began to make your way to the meet Kakashi and Sasuke. Today would be the day Naruto returned and you just wanted to get it over with. Once you arrived all you were met with the usual concerned gazes from Kakashi, an indifferent Sasuke, but now you were met with a new pair of eyes. He looked good. Really good. 

Fuck, you couldn’t do this. “You know what...i’m not feeling too hot right now so i’m going to head on home.” Your words tumbling out as you spun around, ready to return the way you came. But your legs crumbled from underneath you, too weak to fully support you anymore. You could hear Kakashi and Sasuke’s cries of concern but you couldn’t focus on them, you could only focus on the one person you didn’t want to. “Woah, what’s wrong?!” Came his frantic voice — his arms capturing your frame before you could fully hit the ground.

Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.

You knew he could feel your bones, your oversized shirt no longer able to hide your secret. His eyes hardened before picking you up and carrying you to your house. You felt so tired and it felt like this was a dream. Everything was so hazy and you couldn’t fully comprehend what was going on. Did you actually collapse at the training field or did you hallucinate that? You couldn’t tell anymore.

But his hold on you felt real. His scent smelled real. What was he doing carrying you, you two broke up because he decided to get cozy with another girl.

Before you knew it you were being laid on your bed, “I’m going to go get some food, just...wait for me okay?” His voice cracked. Why did his voice crack? “Yeah uh okay...” Why were you agreeing to what he was saying? You watched as he walked away from your room, “What is going on?” you softly mumbled to yourself, attempting to regain your sense of reality. Staring up at the ceiling, you didn’t realize how much you changed in the year that you two broke up. Yeah okay maybe you lost some weight, and maybe you only left your room when it was time for training or missions, but was it really that odd? 

You saw Naruto coming back into your room and sat on the bed -- it dipping under his sudden weight. He had made you some soup, surprisingly not ramen, and held the spoon up to your lips, “Eat it.” You couldn't bring yourself to argue with him so you complied. The only sounds surrounding you two were the clanging of the spoon against the bowl and your small gulps. Your stomach felt warm, you had forgotten the feeling of a full stomach. 

A choked sob captured your attention. You looked up away from the bowl held in front of you and saw the tears streaming down your ex-boyfriend’s face. “Im sorry for doing this to you. I wouldn't have left if I knew this would happen.” His voice shakily cried out. You didn't know what to do, was your condition really that bad? He set the bowl onto your nightstand and cradled your cheek, his other hand wiping at his tears. “I’m so sorry.” He continuously cried out. 

The hand on your cheek felt warm, it was nice. Both of his hands now wiped at your cheeks, you hadn't realized you were crying but he was wiping your tears away for you. 

Maybe you were broken, maybe it was his fault, who could say? You pulled him into the bed with you and he held you in his arms -- he made you feel like you would be okay, he made you feel safe again. Sure you two had a long way to go before you could trust him but for now you were happy just being with him. Like it was before that day last year. 

“Please just hold me.”

#Naruto x reader #Naruto imagines #naruto imagine #naruto shippuden imagines #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto shippuden x reader

[palishere]

4 ingredients: Sammy... Handcuffs.... Whipped cream... And a pair of stilettos.

Click. Click. Click.

Goes the knee high, leather, black boots against the almost non existant floorboards. The shoelace thin ties are pulled tight eenough that the leather hugs my thigh. God, it feels so good. So sexy. My eyes glance over the small frame of my glasses and into the bright blue gaze of my reflection.

I single handedly took out a hunter today. Nothing can wipe this proud smile as i apply thick black eyeliner wanting to look my best. Especially when the Alpha finally turns up.

I feel the bottom of my stomache churning. Anticipation, excitement and nerves all washing around with just a dash of butterflies to keep life interesting. Im jittery. The adrenaline must be the reason. I haven't taken a hunter down before. And did my heart do somersaults when i pulled keys and a brown leather wallet from the agents pant pocket. He must have thought he wasn't staying long. He was very wrong.

It's exciting watching my pupils grow. Feeling my heart rushing gaster and faster as the adrenaline continues to consume the veins through my body. I haven't known lust like this.

The rattle of handcuffs behind me gives him away, he's finally awake. And i have never been so impatient to play. And when William sees him, sees me and him i hope with every fiber that i might be allowed to keep him.

I turn around with a cherry red smile on my lips as i face the stone cold, brown eyed hunter. And if looks could kill.

"Sam Winchester." I sigh a deep exhale to calm my nerves, "Finally awake..."

"You!" He snarls, "You killed those people!?" He yanks on the handcuffs and they scuff against the metal frame of the single bed. I'm feeling confident that they will hold.

"Me? Oh, God no. I- I'm not in that... brand... i'm far too new."

"New?" He says quickly and equally confused.

"Yeah. Honey, new-"

"So you're in a pack?"

"Pack? Oh, i suppose. "

"What does that mean?" He hisses and tries to act like i can't see his hand searching for a loose nail. Staller, i can't help but tsk as i walk closer to him.

"You boys never had werewolves get the drop on ya huh? Well, the pleasure really will be all mine." I feel my eyes glowing and i watch with curiousity as Sam takes in my unique feature. My eyes, for reasons that i will explain soon, they don't shift normally when i take my were-form. They kind of glow a dark pink colour.

"What... Are you? You're not-"

"A werewolf? I am. I'm just a new type of werewolf."

"A hybrid?"

"Thats the one..." i place my hand on his knee and give his leg a firm squeeze. "You excite me, hunter.."

He protests so pretty, i feel my body reacting favourably as he swears fore to stop. But, it was already too late for him. Noone was going to stop this.

His black dress pants are pulled uncomfortably under his knees, while the fabric is pulled so tight i retrieve his blade and nick the cotton pants and they fall apart under him.

"Stop. What are you doing? Why? Don't. Jesus. Don't."

"Hush. I'm not even close to done." I put one knee over him and straddle his hips and it's like they always belong. Like he always belong to me. Under me. With me. My heart pounds at an incredible rate, but, if this is how i die, well, better this than a shotgun.

I sit back a little and hitch my skirt up over my hips. Two fingers are quick to slide among my labia and spread the juices around i moan when i find my own clit and it's almost like i found it for the first time, i buck down and moan with a tear forming in my eye.

"I've wanted this for too long..."

"Ngh- you can't..." his voice stutters. And i don't even need to respond to that because. I can. And i will. And i am.

With one hand getting to know myself the other picks up a nearby can, shaking it just as i intend to shake Sammy's monster cock as soon as i get my hand in his clean, white underwear.

"W-what are you d-doin?"

"Helping you." Is all i offer before i tilt the can and spray the tasty white stuff over Sam's chest. A long stripe of whipped cream lands just above his nipple and up to the V on his neck. "There's a few things that make me unique," i say with a hard roll of the hips, but the noises it drags from his throat are what i've lived for. I lean over his generous body and lap at the whipped cream. And may the good Lord help me when he moans.

I feel him chubbing and i wish i could stop rolling my hips over him, but, like a needy animal in heat, there is no stopping me. "The first thing that makes me unique," i whisper againdt his golden skin, "Is how i was turned. It isn't everyday a succubus has an offer like i did.."

"Y-You're...!?"

My hand turns his chin towards me, and i let my eyes radiate once more with a hum before locking lips with the little hunter. "Delicious..." I can feel his heart, pounding, picking up pace and it takes another kiss or two before our hearts beat at the same rhythm.

"But that's not even where i get my power, see, to be turned a succubus... there is a ritual."

"N-Ngh..." he clamps his mouth shut and my eyes turn a shade darker at his defiance, another shake of the whipped cream and his eyes shoot open. I nip across his cheek and lean in to clean my mess.

Meanwhile, my hand has snaked behind his head and i grip his thick chestnut locks. He's perfect and i'm unashamed to admit that i want to keep him.

"Succubus are demons..! Th-they're bred as demons..." he sounds exhausted and i feel his energy seeping into me.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Where did you read that?" I lean up to steal another kiss and this time he lets my tongue slip inside. So i naturally have to reward that with another grind. He responds so nicely.

I find his blade again and snip the underwear away, he is fully erect and Jesus, he is sporting a monster of his own. I can't wait for his tip to meet my folds, to mindless explore my entrance, to accidently bump my clitoris. To ride him for hours and hours on end. And ultimately for him to give in and accept that he will be my new breed.

"No, well- yes. Most Succubus. But, i was turned." Finally. Finally, my hand slips between the heat of our bodies and i grip him, "every wonder... what happens when a lust demon defiles a virgin?" No complaints, no swearing, no fighting and i line him up and it's like the first time. "It was some time ago and for most of that time I was forbidden of this act." I scoff, "Can you imagine a sex demon forbidden from sex?!" Less pain, more pleasure, heightened senses, lust filling the room. He moans so pretty, begging repeatedly. Beautiful. "Thats when i met William, the answer was to cross my bloodline with another..."A burst of energy pulses through me and although i've never experience anything like it before, my instincts know exactly what's happened. His resistance has depleted and all thats left is for his climax to fill me and i'll have him made an obediant servant before William even arrives.

"Ngh! Ah!" His head pulls forward watching as i bounce up and down over his throbbing cock, it almost slips out before i force it back in, it's filling me. I see him nodding, because he wants it, wants to release inside of me.

I lean forward, hand grabbing his neck and squeezing it as my hips push into his, the springs of the bed shriek loudly. He pants and pants and pants and i can feel his release building in his loins. Our pending orgasms entwining into each other, a mix of blue and pink energy swirlling together and his gaze fixes on me, he voiclessly begs me to let him cum and-

"Soon...Hang on...hang on, baby..." Our bodies make obscene sounds and i moan with eyes rolled into the back of my head, "Ahh! Yes!! Yes! So full...You gonna fuck me baby? Fuck me hard? Tell me..." my eyes are almost a glow of purple, the lust overbearing and the need for orgasm taking over as i ride the Winchester through the mattress.

He begged for the longest time. I wish Dean had been there to watch his baby brother come undone like he did. It was mind shattering.

My arms wrapped around his neck, holding him as i drilled my hips into his, his cock curving perfectly to fill my every need, when i finally got close and his climax was peaking, our energies combined into an explosion of power. His load never seemed to stop, just kept spurting and spurting and twitching inside of me and just when we thought he was spent, i lapped at his neck and shoulder, nipping lightly with my teeth and had him blowing a surprise load that neither of us knew he was holding.

Spent from the obvious, i grinded softly against him and once the effects started to wear off, his fight slowly started to repair.

The soft "What did you do?" Filled my heart with joy.

"Oh, sweetie, that was just round one..."

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 20

Chapter title: To Thine Own Self

A/n:  TALK ABOUT A BAD CHAPTER AM I RIGHT FELLAS...EYYYYYY. Anyway its Virgils birthday so i wanted to get this chapter out earlier!! Because my boi!! its his birthday!! Im love him!! Im very sorry to how bad this chapter is, its funny cause it basically contains nothing of substance. All I know is that Virgil is a flirty man, anyway enjoy some trash!!

First | Previous | Next

words: 3221

summary: Its Virgils birthday!

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, blood mention

Ao3 Link  

“Lo?” Patton shakes the lawyer softly, his coat tickling his face softly. Logan startles awake, his glasses falling carefully upon his lopsided face.

“E! Equals Mc scared!” He exclaims, Virgil groans from across the room toppling over to where Remy snores. “What time is it” Logan murmurs, sitting up as he adjusts his glasses. The knot tightens as Patton watched Logan adapt to the morning. His face flustered as the lawyer looked his way. “Oh, good morning Patton” Logan greets.

“Hi” He barely squeaks, he shakes himself out before extending his hand to Logan. Once their fingers connect, a quick warmth spreads over them, their bubble returns locking them safely away from the world. Soon Remy snores himself awake, pop! Patton watches as the bubble crumbles around them. “W-what happened here?” He questions, turning away from Logan.

“The case!” Virgil remembers “Patton! We have something to show you!” He rushes, swiftly taking Patton's hand unbeknownst to the quiet panic that flows over Patton. The relief when Virgil releases him is almost too much, its silly he knows but its a reflex. “Ok, we stayed up all night working on this” He shows Patton the board

“It was all a lie?” Patton reads, his soft eyes tracing the plethora of evidence. “What does that mean?” He inquires, the others turn to each other not sure how to respond. “You all need sleep” Patton decides, he adjusts his scarf making his way towards the door.

“Pat, come on” Logan begs, the lawyer turns cocking his head. “This has to mean something, I believe you ok?” Logan states Patton swallows. “George is innocent”

You'd think after months of fighting tooth and nail, Patton would gleam at those words. But as his eyes fell upon Logans, his entire body felt exhausted, defeated from the battle. Should he never emerge victorious he had already lost, lost something so special, nothing else compared.

“Maybe, but it doesn't matter now” Patton laments “Nothing we can do” He watches the board, a heavyweight places itself upon his chest. Pushing deeply as it constricts his every movement. He sees the others want to say more, after all, they had spent all night, sloppily theorizing. However, the doors opened as two small pairs of feet ran towards him.

“Papa!” Valerie cries jumping into her father's arms. Patton embraces her freely, preparing as Remus joins him, allowing himself to sit in Patton's other arm. After a brief shriek of laughter and moment of kisses, Patton smiles at Emile.

“Thank you so much for taking them last night” Patton gestures, wanting to never let this moment end. The dream he’d held for so long, sometimes he wondered how it ever became a reality. How he, out of all people, was blessed with children.

“Liam?” Patton calls listening as the door squeaked open, a piercing yet familiar sound. After a pause with no response, the lawyer stood from his desk, feeling lightheaded during this dark hour. He pushes through the house, stumbling blindly, a quick fear as rustles happen. He shakes his head allowing a quick smile to spread across his face. “Nothing to fear, I'm safe” He lies

“Cupcake?” A voice from out of the empty dark calls out, Patton really hated the nickname. Oh, how selfish that was. A sweet nickname, a sweet person and Patton hated it.

“Over here” He replies, his hands searching the wall finally reaching the lights. Allowing them to flicker awake. “Hi” He smiles softly, Liam grunts practically tripping over himself as he reaches the couch. Patton leans over, kissing his forehead carefully, adjusting his partner's hair.

“Beer” Liam requests, paying no mind to the kind gesture Patton performs. He could smell the alcohol practically wafting off of Liam, but it was late and he didn't have the energy to...run if need be. Once he returns with his opener, he sits. “What?” Liam mutters as Patton watches him expectantly.

“I was wondering if you had any more time to think...about what I asked you?” Patton began slow, making sure to keep his words simple. Liam huffs, rolling his tired eyes.

“You think you can raise children?” Liam mocks, Patton looks to the window, something comforting about the way the stars twinkled. It reminded him of someone, he couldn't pin it. He smiles again, a facade arises.

“I do, and I think you can too” Patton hopes, more convincing himself really.

“Then you are a fool and really naive if you think that pursuing this is a good thing” Liam finishes, the beer emptied before Patton can process his words. He tumbles as he makes his way mumbling angry to the room. A practically shattered Patton remains, the softest of tears fall from his eyes.

“Patton?” Logan waves gently in front of his face. The lawyer blinks before the lights come back on behind his eyes. He shakes slightly adjusting to his surroundings, shooting a quick look to his children.

“Sorry, must've spaced out!” He smiles shaky, nervous laughter practically pouring from him. “I'm really sorry but I have to go” he announces, the twin's yawn, leaning safely into their father. They loved Emile, they loved all of their dad's friends, but no place, no home, no person would ever feel as safe as Patton. Before he goes, Patton spins on his heel to face Virgil. “Hey, don't forget, my house this Thursday, birthday dinner” He reminds, Virgil bites down a smirk but nods

“You know it” He nods, almost excited at the prospect of some normalcy to return to his life. For almost the entire time he and Patton knew one another, Virgil would spend his birthday evenings at Patton's house. The lawyer would cook an extravagant meal full of the detectives' favorite foods, he would give him gifts and shower him with praises. It didn't change once the kids arrived, it simply improved. No matter what happened during the day, that was set. Breakfast with Roman, lunch with Logan perhaps. A quick ‘Happy Birthday Virge’ from either sure, but Patton's house, seven pm sharp? That was set in stone, and should they grow old, and expand their families far and wide. Virgil knew...it would always be like that.  

~~~

“And...done!” Roman cheers to himself, the rough tips of his fingers simply begging for a break. He marvels at his creation, nodding satisfied as he places the gift delicately in his drawer. Making sure its kept safe and hidden until Thursday.

“Judge Reial?” A rasped knock at the door beckons Roman's attention. His gaze falls upon a man waiting at his arch. He stands smiling as the man approaches. “I'm judge James McCoy” He greets, shaking his extended hand. A firm yet soft touch, a quick shiver as they part both sitting once more. “It's an honor to meet you” James admits, Roman feels his face arise. The heat spreading quickly, surely this was a joke?

“Likewise?” He tries, James chuckles. A deep boom, so smooth it moved across Roman pleasantly.

“Apologies, I just transferred here. I've read about your work...I mean you're incredible in court.” Roman had to wonder if he had the wrong person, he was just...himself. “I was requested to come here for a case, then I was offered a job and I wasn't going to miss the opportunity to work with you” He gushes, Romans blush only grows.

“That's so sweet thank you” Roman finds his bearings, a coy smile upon his face. “I mean, I get it all the time” He jokes, mission successful as yet another smile and laugh falls from James’s mouth. “Surely you didn't just move out here for me?”

“Don't flatter yourself” James teases, a smirk upon his face. Roman bites his lip stifling a laugh. “No I mean, I was iffy about taking the job but then my partner….he broke up with me so...new start ya know?” James explains, a raw honesty to his words. Roman nods, trying not to get excited at the developments as they unfold.

“Would you like to have lunch?” Roman blurts, a new sparkle in his eyes. James purses his lips “Thought we could maybe get to know each other” He proposes, Jame wants to hide his smile but his lips have their own mind.

“I'd love nothing more” James agrees, he collects his things at the ring of his phone standing as he goes. “It has been an absolute pleasure” He extends his hand once more, once again tickling Roman with possibility. “Lunch” He finalizes

“Lunch” Roman swoons, his back melting into the chair once more. He can feel his feet tap below him, dancing as the ideas sing throughout his mind.

“Hey Ro” Patton smiles through the door, Roman ushers him in. “You look giddy, what's up?” An uncertain expression befalls the lawyer, Roman shrugs into a shimmy.

“I just met someone” Roman marvels, realizing just how weird his insides felt. It felt like he had reverted ten years, a shiny new judge, he was dumb and easy to trick. He tripped over himself to be seen, and now here he was. People wanted to meet him, to see him. And for what? He wasn't some here, he wasn't this outstanding citizen. He sent people to jail, to spend the rest of their lives suffering.

“Bad people Ro” Virgil would take his hand, their words in whispers as Damian snuggled against them snoring softly. Roman wouldn't dare meet his eyes, fear of falling apart under their caring honesty. They weren't pools of dark mystery, they were swirling clouds of determination and ambition. Virgil's eyes radiated all he conquered, Roman loved them.

“What if they weren't bad? What if I made a mistake” He fears, the words only rising in panic. Virgil cups his face, his gentle hands tracing Romans almost perfect features. “What if I'm just like...him?” Roman dreads even the idea, but he knew it was always there. Forcing its way through the blockade. Virgil leans forward, taking Roman's lips on his own, knowing full well the judge would melt into the gesture. That for just this moment he would feel loved.

“You're not your father Roman, you never will be” Virgil assures, digging the point as far as he can. “Just this conversation, your concerns now, prove that. You care” He identifies, Roman wants to cry, but because for once in his life, he believes that maybe just maybe he really isn't. That all of his efforts and work, paid off. He is not his father.

Roman should feel sad, he misses Virgil so much. His stomach tug as even the slightest thing causes him to reminisce. But he's not, he loves Damian and he...cares for Virgil. Knowing that he's safe means the world. And something just cleared for him when Virgil uttered the words. As though he finally understood. He was...almost free. Should Virgil ever want to pursue him again or not, Roman would…

“Be ok” Roman mumbles, Patton stops his rocking of the stroller, the twins remain sleeping. “I'll be ok” He gleams. Patton forces a smile, nodding proudly of his friend. I wonder what that's like.

“That's good Ro, I'm proud of you” Patton squeezes his hand, his gaze returning to his source of joy. The twins sprawled across the stroller, sleeping carefully, cuddled with their respective stuffed toys.

“I...have a date!” He tilts his head, uneasy smile “Kind of?” He questions, Patton laughs.

“Oh?” He wonders, biting his lips as Virgil's name appears in his head.

“He's a judge, he just transferred here, he's cute and we are having lunch together” Roman finishes, drumming the desk lightly. “Guess too fast is my middle name!” He jokes, Patton swallows as his own words trail his mind, the crushing look Logan gave him replaying like an old station.

“Light and breezy” Patton nods slowly.

“Light and breezy!” Roman sings, feeling genuine, deep-rooted happiness. Unaware of the fragile demeanor of the lawyer across from him, as his world threatens to crumble, the regrets of everything he's ever done in his mind. The desperation as his heart aches to him, calling out to Logan, the phrase ‘miss so much’ we an understatement. He yearned for something he left of his own will, what an absolute...idiot he was.

Don't get emotional Patton

~~~

“I will be there soon Pat...yeah I love you too” Virgil chuckles, stuffing the phone into his pocket as he pushes through the door into the precinct. The still quiet of the building causing unease in the detective so used to the bustling bounces of the room. He turns into the room fully expecting to have the frozen solitude to himself, alas as the lights flicker on he releases a soft gasp. “Roman?” He whispers. The judge stands idle by Virgil's desk, a small amber box alight in his hands.

“Hey” He smiles, the exhaustion under his eyes visible.

“What are you...what are you doing here?” Virgil questions, their voices remain ever so soft.

“Happy birthday” He rushes, skipping a few steps. Virgil's eyes widen as he nods, taking a step forward. Roman looks enchanting under the dim lights, his aura blazing passion.

“You remembered?” He's not sure why he questions it every time, Roman has never forgotten his birthday. He's never had a reason to assume someone, especially his friends would forget, and yet he lives in fear.

“Of course” Roman laughs so sweetly, it barely makes a sound “December nineteenth, you were born at exactly six forty four pm. You didn't cry at first so your mom was pretty worried, but it turns out you were just a little shy” He chuckles, neither understand why there are tears making their way down the men's cheeks. “You were a pretty light baby. Your favorite birthday was your sixteenth when your mom took you to a concert for the first time, but your sixth comes pretty close after you got to tag along with your dad on a case” Roman recites, the absolute adoration flooding his eyes. “You always spend your evenings with Patton, no matter what.” Roman moves closer, allowing the distance between them to circulate warmth.

“What are you doing?” Virgil hopes, maybe a little too much that he gets closer.

“I have a gift…” Roman's eyes move towards Virgil's lips “For you” He states, carefully he lifts it placing it in the detective's palm. “I know its small but uh...happy birthday Virge,” He says, overwhelming conviction. Virgil carefully undoes the ribbon, the paper falling with it. Virgil sucks in, his breath falling short. A small cloud, with lighting coming out of it, sits at the bottom of the box. “It's a worry stone, carved like a storm cloud”

“Because I'm your storm cloud?” Virgil groans, a knowing smirk. Roman laughs nodding sweetly.

“Because you are my storm cloud” Roman leans in stopping himself, he knows he's going to regret his next move but he takes his waist and locks their lips. Virgil allows it to happen, his arms snaking their way around Roman's neck.

“What was that?” Virgil questions, not entirely opposed to the idea, his arms remaining.

“Think of it as a breakup kiss, and a birthday present” He shrugs, Virgil chuckles shakily. “I have a proposition,” He says removing his arms, taking hold of Virgil's hands.

“Oh do tell” Virgil plays with Romans fingers in his own.

“You say we’re moving too fast then let's start again. From the top, Virge you're basically my best friend” Roman can't keep still, Virgil feels the warmth spread as he stays safe in his arms. “I'm not gonna let that slip away, and I'm not gonna let Damian slip away. Come on, I know you miss me” Roman teases, Virgil pouts stretching Romans arms behind him, he leans in planting a kiss on Roman.

“Maybe just a lil bit” Virgil states, Roman, shakes his head still smiling.

“Virge...I'm serious” Roman begs, Virgil nods allowing him to continue. “I wanna do this right, please” He requests, Virgil has no qualms.

“Yes of course” He purses his lips feeling Romans phone buzz, he smirks coyly, removing it from his back pocket. Roman barely puts up a fight. “Oh? Who's James?” Virgil wonders, Roman rolls his eyes “Come on best friend, whos the dude, I bet-” Roman leans in kissing him

“We can start tomorrow” Roman tries to grab his phone back but Virgil lifts above his head shaking it. He takes it scrolling through the previous texts giggling after each one, a contagious joy spread from the two. And before the hour strikes seven, it's just them in their delighted aura.

~~~

“I think alcohol might have been a bad idea” Roman jokes, Logan grunts sitting down as he simply takes another sip of his drink. “Come on Lo, we should head home” Roman suggests, feeling the high of Virgil's lips upon his own drain away

“Im...going to propose to Patton” Logan decides, he flops on the couch, the music quiets as the people around him continue. Roman guffaws, a bellowed laugh.

“Yeah, alright Logan. I think you have to be dating first” Roman takes a calm sip of his drink, observing the world around him. Logan

“I'm not kidding Roman” Logan sits up, adjusting his glasses “I've known him for ten years. I practically know everything about him” Logan shrugs “I know he takes his coffee with cream and two sugars, a hint of cinnamon. I know that his favorite color is the rainbow because it changes every day. I know today its violet for Virgil's birthday. I know that he checks on the twins at least three times before going to bed himself.  I know that there are only two people who can touch him without causing him to flinch. I know that when he balls his fists he digs his nails so deep into his skin he draws blood.” Roman doesn't want to listen anymore, his heart hurts as he watches Logan defeated

“Logan you do-”

“I know that turtlenecks provide him some sense of comfort as they wrap in warm coziness. I also know he used to use them to hide scars” Logan takes a shattered breath “I know that when he kisses me my heart beats a million times faster…” Logan rubs his forehead frustrated “I know that he can never have his eyes or hands away from the twins. And I know that...that” He pauses sucking in his huffed tears

“Logan? What?” Roman wants more

“I just like him so much” Logan moans, sprawling across Roman. “I wanna give him butterfly kisses” He pouts, Roman laughs stroking the lawyers head gently. “Do you know what those are? With the eyes?” His pout only furthers, as tears well in his eyes. He clutches to the pillow, his glasses drooping.

“I know bud, I know” He whispers carefully, not wishing to ruin the night further. Its funny, Roman had only seen Logan like this once before, and it was also about Patton. It's almost ironic in a way.

“Mm, my phone is buzzing” Logan mumbles, his arm making grabby towards the device. Roman takes it for him, asking him to put in his code. “What's happening?” He mutters into the couch pillow. Roman reads, the grin slowly disappearing.

Logan, please help

Patton was being vague, and Roman couldn't handle that

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