#bought everything with flora on it

[bernard-the-rabbit]

i'm rewatching winx club <3

#baby me was obsessed with flora #bought everything with flora on it #had the ep where she gets the enchantix on a separate dvd that i used to watch daily #and i found out i was gay when i was 16... #anyway im redrawing them with THE meme bc i had to #my trashy art #winx club #winx club fanart #winx #flora winx #flora and helia #flora fanart #helia fanart #helia winx #florhelia

[kithtaehyung]

busted (3tan) (m) | myg

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

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Here goes nothing and everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However. 

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

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you. 

And they pass by.

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

It’s weird to say it. 

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

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

“Oh, god.”

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

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

“Who are you seeing?” 

“Kook…” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did.”

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

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

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

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

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

Because they are still the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Do you really?” 

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

And you’re going to.

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

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch. 

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

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

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

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

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

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

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

“I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I have!”

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

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.” 

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

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

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry. 

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

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

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

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling? 

…Were you both that loud?

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

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

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

“…Okay.”

And then it’s completely silent.

But you know he hasn’t left. 

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

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

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

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

“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”

“Wait, it’s not like th—”

“You come into our house after years—”

“Stop!”

“And pull some shit like this?”

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

You and your brother have a thousand differences. 

But one thing you two have in common? 

He’s just as stubborn as you are. 

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

“I’m not—”

“Hey—!”

“The fuck—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why should I.”

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

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

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

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

“…So it’s like that?”

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

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

“The fuck it isn’t—” 

“It is! Fucking hell, dude...” 

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

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

You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done. 

You hope your brother understands that you’re tired. 

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

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

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

But they don’t have to do anything. 

Except let you do this yourself. 

“Please.” 

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

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

“Trust me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi was a surprise.”

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You loved me?”

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

“What?”

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs again. So do you. 

And the both of you break all at once. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.

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

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

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

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

Still, Jungkook moves in. 

Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.

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

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

“I promise.” 

“Only alright? I have a chance then.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He said he still loves me.”

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

“Dom…”

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

“He said it was a mistake.” 

“It sure as fuck was.” 

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

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

“I know.”

“Now.”

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

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

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

“What do I have now.”

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

Huh?

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

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

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

“K.”

Wait, what.

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

His name is molasses on your tongue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s true.” 

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

“Makes me wanna take you home.” 

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

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

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

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

“Take you home?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

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

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

If you didn’t have to wait. 

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

But why does he seem so—

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

And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.

“Listen.”

“Hmm?”

“I know we said we’d say something.”

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

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

Huh.

What does he mean by—

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

You freeze. 

So does time. 

A minute is no longer enough.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Can you do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Babe?”

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

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

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

Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye. 

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

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

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

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

“Doll, let me know because—”

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

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

“Anything for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If people are like seasons… 

Which one will Yoongi be?

Fuck.

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

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

“Yoongi, I—”

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

“I know.”

His name rattles around your mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

You wanna believe him.

“Okay?”

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

“Fuck.” 

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

It’s not fair.

None of this is fucking fair. 

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

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

And now you’ll be farther apart than stars. 

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

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

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

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

Because you know him well enough.

He was committing your every feature to memory. 

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

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

And you hear them all through your door.

Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?

You [1:40am]: yeah

Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up

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

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

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

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

You🙄 [1:46am]: ok

Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍

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

A plate. A bowl after that. 

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

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

And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“Do I need to beat his ass?”

Well, that didn’t take long. 

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

“And I’d deserve it.” 

You pause.

“But I still wanna know.” 

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

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

Your lip stings under your teeth.

“And I can’t just let that go.”

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

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

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

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

All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides. 

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

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

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

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

“...Why didn’t you tell me.”

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

Silence. 

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

“I always worry.” 

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

Shit, that was close. 

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

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

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

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

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

An apology.

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

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

This can’t be it. 

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

“I know. But I’ll try to be better.” 

He’s gonna what? “Why?”

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

“…Oh.”

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

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

What the hell happened after he left your room?

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

Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone. 

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

“Until they realized we kept going alone.” 

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

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

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

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

“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.” 

True. “It could be worse, I think.” 

“How?” 

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

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

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

Together. 

“They could’ve left us somewhere else.” 

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

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

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

“Oh, really.”

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

Wait, he did what now?

…You didn’t know that. 

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

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

The pause he makes weighs a ton. 

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

So… He… 

Holy shit. 

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

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

…Is he paying loans? 

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

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

“So were you.”

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

“It’s whatever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What.”

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

“I like it here, though.”

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

“Empty?” 

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

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

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

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

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

And regret others. 

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

“All the time.” 

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

“Hmm.” 

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

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

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

Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.

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

So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”

“I’m sorry.”

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

“For what I did. I was outta line.”

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

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

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

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

But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“Love you, too.”

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

…Calling should be okay, right?

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

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

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

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

Fuck. 

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

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

This hollow, aching, painful feeli—

Yoongi: Incoming Call

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

“H—”

“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”

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

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

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

“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”

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

You hear a low grunt before he responds. 

“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.” 

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

“It’s not that bad. Just stings.” 

“Okay.”  

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

“Spoke to Kook.” 

Shit.

“And the guys.”

Oh. About work. “What’s up?”

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

Ah. No finish line in sight.

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

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

“When you get it.”

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

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

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

“See? Claiming shit already.”

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

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

“Yoongi.”

“Fine.”

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

“Just work stuff.”

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

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

“What.”

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

“…I see.”

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

“Huh? Don’t be.”

“You sound mad.”

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

“Not at you, doll.”

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

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

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

“Mm.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.” 

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

“I was there first, doll.” 

He what?

“Wait… You were?” 

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

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

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

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

“So… You both heard—”

“Nothing until the yelling.” 

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

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

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

Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling. 

Run.

“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.” 

“You okay?”

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

“Wait—” 

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

“Babe, talk to—”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.

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

Yoongi: Missed Call

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

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

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

And you’ve been through hell.

Yoongi: Missed Call (2)

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

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

Yoongi: Incoming Call

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

And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.

“Knew you’d answer on the first try.” 

Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.  

“You didn’t let me say bye.”

When you don’t respond, he trudges on.

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

Huh? 

“And no hanging up this time.”

What the heck does he… mean… 

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

Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.

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

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

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

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

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

Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s Jimin?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How long has it been?”

Ah. That’s a good start. 

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

“A month.”

“...Damn.” 

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

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

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

“That’s good, at least.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

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

“Mm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh. “Me? How?” 

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

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

“Not even denying it. I like this.” 

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

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

“Break? Or what do you feel like?” 

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

“Mmk.” 

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

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

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know

Right.

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

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

“You can definitely be upset.” 

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

Only warmth. And understanding. 

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

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

Him? Being more upset than you?

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

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

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

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

Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present, 

“What are you gonna say?” 

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

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

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

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

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

They’re lighter. 

How is that possible? You’re still sad. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll

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

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

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

But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.

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

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

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

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

“You will.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh? The luckiest then.” 

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

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

“Maybe you’re right.” 

One week turns into three. 

Then two more pass.

And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought. 

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

“It’s okay.”

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

“So?”

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

“You got a heating pad?”

A what? How does he know about— 

Oh. Right. 

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

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

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

“Go get it, doll.”

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

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

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

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

Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes. 

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” 

Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons. 

“Okay.”

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

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

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

Soon.

Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.

Both can give people a bit of hope. 

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

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

“Going to Yoongi’s.”

“K.”

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

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

“K. Have fun!”

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

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

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

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

It’s perfect.

And completely useless for the time being.

Calls have been the one thing getting you by.

But over time, even those have virtually stopped.

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

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

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

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

You accidentally spill your drink.

And you sob. 

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

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

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

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

Painful.

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

If you forget this one on the railing, too…

Will he finally show up to hand it back? 

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

Three months. 

Ninety days.

Eight million seconds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly. 

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

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

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

But that night in his kitchen… 

It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.

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

You can’t.

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

Your finger moves a bit closer.

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

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

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

Hold on, it’s an incoming call?

Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.

Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight. 

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

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

You can’t even say hello.

“Hey.”

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

“Hello?”

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

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

Because it plummets.

“Where are you.”

There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.

“What’s wrong.” 

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

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

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

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

“Babe, tell me. Now.” 

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

“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?” 

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

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

“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.” 

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

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

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

“I am.”

You freeze.

So does time.

And the next three seconds are enough.

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

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

And your chest has never felt lighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking hustler.”

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

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

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

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

And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.

Endless. 

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

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

“Anything for you.”

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

“You still have to gimme chips.” 

Maybe not quite everything.

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

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

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

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

“You’re the smartass.”

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

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

“I just… You read.” 

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

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

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

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

“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”

“Proactive.”

“Huh? For what?”

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

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

“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”

“That was you!”

“No?”

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

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

And you glitch when you realize why.

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

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

Way too familiar.

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

No no no. Why is he taking you there? 

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

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

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

“I don’t care.”

“I was only gonna bring you back.”

“Baby, please.”

“He’s home—”

“Do you still miss me?” 

He freezes. 

Which gives you a chance. 

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

Almost everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi’s still way too quiet. 

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

“Stop.” 

You do. 

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

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

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

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

“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—” 

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

“Please what.” 

Everything you want. 

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

“The fuck.”

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

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

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

“Babe—”

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

“Are you su—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This.”

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck.” 

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

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

“So fucking filthy...” 

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

“Don’t do that.” 

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fucking you with them on.” 

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

You know your panties are soaked. 

You know he’s gonna wreck your shit. 

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

Perfect. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So fucking perfect.” 

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

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

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

“Almost made me come.” 

“Be for real.” 

“Damn serious.” 

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

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

“Fuck me like you missed me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said. Don’t move.” 

“But—Yoongi!” 

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

“Uh uh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly.

He stops. 

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

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

“What’d you say?” 

“Plea—Baby!” 

“Huh?” 

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

And again.

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

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

“This is what you wanted, huh.” 

Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.

“You gonna be a good little slut?” 

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

“Then fucking beg.” 

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

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

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

“Need you, too.” 

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

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

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

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

Because his eyes speak volumes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now swallow.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

It’s not. 

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

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

“Feel so good—”

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

What is he— 

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

What’s—

Oh fuck, are you on his desk?

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

“Yoongi—”

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

“Uh uh. Stay like that.” 

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

“There you go.” 

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

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

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

“Goddamn.” 

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

Oh, fuck!

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

“Come here.” 

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

And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”

“You already fucking know.”

“Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Don’t fall in love.” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

“It missed you, too.”

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

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

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

“Yoongi!”

“Uh huh.”  

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

“You gonna come?”

A frantic nod.

“Then come.” 

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

“Again.” 

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

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

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

“Again.” 

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

Oh, if they could witness you now. 

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

One breath.

Two breaths.

Two hearts.

One night is enough.

“So fucking perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, shit!

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

This man leaned right into the whole thing.

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

“First off.”

“Uh huh.”

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

Yeah. Stuff like that. 

“I’m her favorite.” 

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

A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”

Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”

When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes. 

Does he feel at home, too? 

“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”

Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next. 

Then you pull away.

Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore. 

“Come here.”

You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets. 

But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern. 

“How are you gonna get home?”

Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.” 

“K.” 

“Did I keep you from anything?”

A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.” 

“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”  

“But no, we were finishing up when I called.” 

“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure. 

When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“S’ok.” 

“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.” 

After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.” 

Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper, 

“Maybe try that one more time.”

And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed. 

When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak, 

“I always do, babe.” 

Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.

“Miss you.”

As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering. 

His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this. 

“That’s my fault.” 

Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.” 

After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care. 

“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.” 

“You gave me tonight.” 

When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give, 

“A little longer is nothing.” 

A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again. 

Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”

Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.” 

Us.

Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”

Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,

“What’s the fun in telling you?”

“Ass!”

While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“We have a game next week.” 

As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.” 

“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.” 

And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.

What’s he doing?

You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.

When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul. 

An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds. 

As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others. 

You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window. 

“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”

“Huh? Tonight?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”

Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”

He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.” 

At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?” 

“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.” 

“Ah, I see.”

You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips. 

“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”

“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.” 

Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours. 

You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface. 

And you start to hum.

It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones. 

You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.

And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.

“Shit, was I too loud?”

He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side. 

“Not at all.” 

So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head. 

And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.

Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.

When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss. 

Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light. 

You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.

For him, you can do anything. 

But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.

And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.

“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”  

—

—

—

tbc. :) 

—

a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?

A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf)  A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder.  A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

#and the wait is finally over sheeeesh! #bts #bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #yoongi fic #yoongi x you #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #*latest #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #3tan10 #i hope y'all are ok with how much is in here hahahah #yoongi

[thelegendofmik]

Shoe HC's for the Chain bc why tf not lmao

Legend

CONVERSE BITCH THRU AND THRU.

He exclusively wears converse.

He has a pair that Ravio embroidered cute designs on for him.

He has a pair that has been absolutely vandalised to hell and back.

Warriors

VANS

He has so many pairs of vans its actually not funny

(its giving straight skater boi vibes sorry wars u bi queen)

in formal scenarios he wears oxfords. Because he is a pretentious bitch (but we love him for it)

Time

He has a single pair of high quality, custom made leather boots that can be used for everything.

Except they make that click-clacky sound when walking on the ranch's hardwood floors and Malon hates it

So when he's at home he putters around in Malon's slippers (she deliberately buys them several sizes too big so that Time can wear them)

Twilight

He too, has a singular pair of boots but they are closer to cowboy boots than anything.

His however, do not make the clicky sound that Time's do (Malon: honey, why don't you have a quieter pair like Twi's? / Time: the clicking is a sign of authority, thank you very much!)

Hyrule

DOC MARTENS BITCH

He has the classic docs that he wears until they are literally unwearable. And then he covers them in duct tape and wears them for like another year until he is convinced to get a new pair.

When he does get a new pair, he doesn't stop complaining about how much of a bitch they are to break in.

Wind

Tetra bought him a pair of Nike TN's.

He only wears them so he doesn't offend Tetra (he is unaware of it but he is down bad for her)

Aryll thinks they're hilarious and will take every opportunity to make fun of her brother.

TN's aside, he would wear regular sneakers. Nothing too fancy.

Four

CROCS

Four wears crocs. I don't know why, its just the vibe

The colours have their own colour coordinated pairs

The different charms they have are incredibly telling about their individual personalities

Red wears his with socks.

Green is indifferent to socks.

Blue and Vio are violently against crocs and socks.

Minish Four wears gumboots. Teeny tiny Minish-sized gumboots.

Sky

BIRKS

He would totally wear Birkenstocks

Him, Sun, and Groose have matching pairs

He has lost several shoes while riding Crimson (Birks are NOT practical loftwing-riding shoes)

Wild

SHOES ARE A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY

If he has to wear them, he would wear thongs (flip-flops for the americans out there).

Flora can wrangle him into boots once in a blood moon.

#im a wheelchair user so i never have to deal with breaking in docs its fucking amazing #i am a crocs with socks girly if you disagree then ur wrong lol #tloz #the legend of zelda #zelda #linked universe #lu wild #lu wind #lu four #lu twilight #lu legend #lu time #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu warriors #link #lu ravio #linked maze #ageless soul au #bonus links #loz au #legend of zelda au #zelda headcanon

[turiluvr]

perfume?

he just really, really likes your pefume

— tighnari x gn!reader

Tighnari didn't particularly pay much attention to personal scents, or rather, perfume. As a forest ranger, he's constantly surrounded by flora whose scents rub off on him and at the end of the day, he reeks off a mix of a little bit of everything. However, he does have some sort of experience dealing with or making scents – incense and perfume are not exactly the same but it's needless to say that the scent aspect is what made it very similar.

He doesn't usually pay much attention. However, there was a certain scent he quite liked; In fact, it was your perfume that he was fond of. He couldn't help but be drawn to it whenever you came close and wanted it for himself. So, one day, he decided to ask.

"You smell good." It was straightforward. A little embarrassing to hear but it did send the message across and Tighnari wasn't fond of beating around the bushes. His ear twitched slightly as he turned to you, "and I mean really good. What perfume do you use? Can you tell me where you bought it?"

"Huh…?" It was the only thing that you could blurt out. It was embarrassing to hear him tell you that you smelled good but even more so when he thought you were wearing perfume. "My perfume?"

"Yes, your perfume." He nodded. "Oh but if you made it yourself would you mind if you told me which ingredients you used? I'd like to recreate it if possible."

"No, no. That's not the problem."

He raised an eyebrow, "what? Are you gatekeeping it or something?"

"No… not that too." You shook your head.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm not wearing any perfume." Your words made Tighnari stop in his tracks as he slowly connected the dots inside his head. You continued, "so I can't tell you where I got it from or what ingredients I use. This is just how I normally smell. Do I really smell that good?"

"Oh." He didn't know how to reply. "Forget I said anything then."

He was beyond embarrassed.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #tighnari #genshin tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin writing #my writing

[izukuisbaby]

⊹˚.⋆ 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 - NANAMI KENTO

℘. flora's notes : y'all know I'm a simp 4 this angel daddy so obviously i had to do that, totally self indulgent, I need him in my life

℘. female, gn, male reader 💓

m.list | comment or reblog if you enjoyed !

℘. he doesn't fall in love easily but when he does, it's forever. he will do it all with you : getaway weekends, expensive dates, engagement, marriage, honeymoon to your dream destination... everything you've ever dreamt of, he gets it for you.

▪︎

℘. he adores 80's romantic music and has a whole playlist that he listens to on his way to and back from work. it makes him think of you, it encourages him to go through his day and it gets him excited to go home to you in the evening.

▪︎

℘. he's the kind of boyfriend who remembers the little things about you and he doesn't need to write them down, he just has good memory. he keeps good care of everything related to you, little things included. sometimes he will come up to you like "I remembered you liked silk pyjamas so I bought you a pair darling" AND YOU'RE LIKE "HOW DOES HE KNOW ???" and he listens to you with such great care and intense attention 🥲🥲 HIS TIME IS DEDICATED TO U

▪︎

℘. you're always his plus one at his events. he chooses your outfit and he never misses cuz he knows your tastes perfectly. also what colours suits you and what type of attire fits you the best. if you're okay with it and if your hair is long enough, he will braid your hair and put flowers in it, rapunzel style yk. he loves to touch your hair and try hairstyles on you<3 (i headcanon that he doesn't have any socials but facebook and he saves the hair tutorials he sees on his feed to try them on you)

▪︎

℘. he looks at bedsheets and spreads a lot because he wants your shared bedroom to be as comfortable as possible for you. he will choose one w ur fav color or a design that would match the aesthetic of your room. the bedroom is his safe place and he wants it to be yours too

▪︎

℘. loves having you on his lap while he reads in his home office. and he kisses your forehead and cheeks every now and then. he reads you the story/article aloud when you get sleepy so he gets to have you sleep on his chest or shoulder

▪︎

℘. one of his favourite things is to get in the shower with you after a long day at work. nothing sexual, just him hugging you from behind while he softly rubs soap on your body. it just calms him down to have your skin touch his with the warmth of the water surrounding you

▪︎

℘. YOU ARE A PRETTY PASSENGER, he drives you everywhere even if that means dropping you off 3 hours away and he has to do the drive back to get u home

▪︎

℘. insists on getting heaters that can be started from a phone so that he's sure you always come to a warm home in the winter. he cannot stand the thought of you alone and cold in the house while he's working. your shared home has to be your safe haven, it must be warm and cosy !

▪︎

℘. makes time 4 you whatever the reason. feeling sick at work ? he has his afternoon off now. there's this TV show you really want to watch ? let's watch it together. a new restaurant opened in town ? he's taking you on a date.

▪︎

℘. after a long day, he will lay you down in the couch in front of ur fav tv show and run you a bath

▪︎

℘. wants you to visit him at work because he loves eating with you (eating the bento you made him). he will always welcome you with a smile as he sees you enter his office and he often signals you to come sit on his lap. he secures an arm around your waist and kisses your forehead then lips and gives u the most sincere smile i have to stop there before i start smiling like an idiot at my screen

▪︎

℘. SPOILS U !!! 'nami has so much love to give it's insane, he will grant any of your wishes right then and there ! he needs to be assured that he makes you happy and fulfills your dream life, it's important to him that you are comfortable with him as your partner. plus, he will never get bored of that smile and blush you get whenever he gets you a little something

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami #nanami kento #kento #kento nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x reader #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfiction

[legendofzoodles]

The Chain and spending money

Time

The cautious. The man is helping run a ranch, funds and expenditure is one of those routine things constantly circling through his mind even while adventuring. He used to be pretty irresponsible with his money when he was young but marriage and actual responsibilities outside of nebulous heroics has made him, well, cautious. He has a future to plan for and what is essentially a business to co run.

Warriors

The extravagant. Due to the nature of his job he's never had time for small shopping trips and thus saves up and spends a huge amount on one of his rare off days. He's a confident spender, if he wants something he'll get it without regret. He's also the type to persuade whoever he's shopping with to purchase things he thinks they'll like.

Twilight

The boring. There's not much really to talk about here, growing up in simplicity means he doesn't really need lots of stuff and always content with what he has, never really feeling the need to buy more. Even window shopping doesn't appeal to him really. If you want it get it, don't stand around imagining what it would be like to have it.

Sky

The generous. He can't help thinking of others when shopping and will always grab a little something for the people he cares about. As a crafter himself he loves to support small local businesses and will be generously spending at any village market day.

Legend

The picky. Probably out of all of them has the best judgement of an object's worth, so when he spends his money you know it's for something really good. Not that he has to much these days, he is that one friend who no only has everything but is extremely picky and thus impossible to shop for.

Wild

The distracted. Always has some goal in mind when he enters a market, looking for things like new ingredients or clothes. And he will always complete that shopping list, after 3 hours, along with a shopping cart's stuff of other things he didn't plan on buying.

Four

The investor. He plans for everything, business and personal expenditure. Very practical too, he's not one to really spend money on things specifically for himself because getting all the colours to agree on something is like expecting Ganondorf to water the palace garden flowers the next time he invades Hyrule Castle.

Hyrule

The thoughtless. Is so used to foraging and finding what he needs that, when presented with the option to shop, if he doesn't have a crystal clear idea of what he's going to get he will spend his hard found rupees on stuff he doesn't need. He's the opposite of Legend, with no understanding or care for an object's worth outside of battle and adventuring.

He's also the most likely to get cheated into investing in a pyramid scheme or buying this 'incredible never before seen' product if approached in the marketplace.

Wind

The haggler. If he finds something he wants at a market he'd much rather trade it for something he has and haggle like there's no tomorrow; he loves to spin tall tales about how he acquired the things he wants to trade...even if more often than not one of the chain's items he 'bought' from them (meaning he took it and left rupees in its place).

~~~

Thanks for reading!

How long has it been since I've done one of these? Dang

Masterlist

Headcanons:

Parkour team

Honorary Gorons

How each member of the chain laughs

How the chain solves dungeon puzzles

The Chain as procrastinators

Flora is Feral

The Chain’s time management skills

#what kind of spender are you? #linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #lu twilight #lu wild #lu four #lu time #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu wind #linked universe headcanon #linked universe headcanons #lu headcanons #lu headcanon #lu drabble #lu fic idea #lu fic ideas

[nerdieforpedro]

The Intended determines their Meaning

Javier Gutierrez x plus size female reader

My blog overall is for readers 18+. MDNI

Word Count: 1271

Summary: Javier is following through on what his team has proposed optics wise. He’s bought her flowers to illustrate their partnership. The twist? The events of tonight lead him to follow a different plan altogether.

Warnings: Plots by PR teams, ghosts for dates, angst if you squint, bad jokes (did I write it if there’s not at least one?), Javi G being charming and adorable, honorable mention of Javi G’s orange/red shirt from TUWOMT (the debate of that shirt’s true color continues this very day)

Notes: An entry for @morallyinept ‘s Jett’s Flora & Fauna Challenge. I was surprised to have an idea for it but it turns out chatting with your friends in Discord gets the juices flowing. Plus my wonderful friend Grace came up with the initial idea and we each wrote our own versions. This one is mine. I looked up the meaning of the red peonies Pedro was holding in that shot of him and Dakota Johnson for “The Materialists.” I don’t know the name of the character so this said Javi G to me.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Gutierrez Masterlist

This was supposed to be their third date. She was everything that his PR team said he needed for optics right now. Not too young, an actress that people recognize if they think about it for a minute and she’s thin. It’s not Javier Gutierrez’s first preference, but she was nice and their teams worked well together. 

At least he thought she was nice until tonight. It’s an hour after they were supposed to have their date. No calls, no texts, no one from her team saying why she’s not here. He’d bought her an ivory vase with two full bouquets of red peonies in full bloom. He figured it would be a good move to bring these as both teams had agreed to make their relationship public after leaking a few photos on instagram. A curious financially beneficial union that should be a happy life.

Javi’s heart isn’t in this, but he’s beholden to the public eye and their opinions. He’d rather date women that had more substance to them, both to talk about and to them. 

He continues to sit and wait, not expecting her to come after this long. Should he just leave? He decides to check his phone one more time before finishing off his third glass of red wine. His eyes gaze forward and he sees her. Not the woman he was expecting, but a woman who he’d truly want.

She’s sitting at a small table that’s a mirror of his, her hair in a updo with small silver clips holding it up. Her dress is a deep violet, off her shoulders with a deep V exposing much of her cleavage. From what he can see, the dress may have an asymmetrical cut as much of her thick legs are exposed. Her face is downcast similar to his. She may have been waiting for someone too. Javi wonders if she was stood up as well. 

Hey, I don’t see a second place setting. Is she alone too? Maybe we can be alone together. If she would like, if the woman my team doesn’t want anything to do with me, doesn’t that mean I should find someone I would want to be with?

Javier asks the waiter to give her another glass of whatever she was drinking. It looked like a red wine, he wasn’t sure if it was one different from his. He watched as she looks very confused and is trying to tell the waiter that she didn’t order anything like that.

“Oh no ma’am it’s paid for. The gentleman over there sent it.” The waiter explains and points to Javier. He gives a small wave with a matching smile. She smiles back and waives but almost knocks over her wine glass. Thankfully, she catches it and none of it spills. She laughs at herself and apologizes to the waiter, he looked like he was going to cry as he had his hands raised like he was being robbed.

Well she accepted, I think I’ll go over. Say hello in person. She seems sweet and fun. God, I miss having fun. Dating was supposed to fun at some point.

“You’re too stunning to not have something of equal beauty with you at the table.” Gutierrez leads with as he stands opposite her at the table. “Order what you like hermosa. They’ll let me know the tab. Enjoy yourself.” His wide smile never left his face as she watched him walk over, and hand her a large bouquet of red flowers. They’re not roses, she’s seen them before and just doesn’t remember the name. 

“Thank you. For the flowers and the wine.” She stands and Javi takes a step back to see the rest of her: wide stomach and hips with the dress indeed has an asymmetrical cut that goes to the top of her thigh. Across her stomach is a rhinestone butterfly, the tops of the wings cup the bottoms of her breasts as he attempts not to stare. Her lips are a blood orange that reminds him of one of his favorite leisure shirts to wear when he’s home in Spain. Thankfully he was looking at her lips when she spoke so he would pay attention. “I didn’t want to eat alone. Did you want to sit with me? What’s your name?” 

“Javier Gutierrez, honored to make your acquaintance. May I know yours cariño (sweetheart)?” He extends his hand and she shakes it, unsure if it’s the wine or maybe that he just happy he’s not alone and she wants him to sit with her. He pulls out her chair for her to sit and pushes it in as she gives him her name in response. Once he sits, he gets settled and watches as she fixes her napkin back in her lap and takes another sip of her wine. Whispering “perfecto!” under his breath. 

They chat over their shared experience tonight of being stood up. It turns out, hers was a fifth date after a month of seeing each other casually. He had texted, saying he wasn’t going to come and that he would call her. She knew that he’d broken up with her then, but she didn’t want to leave yet. The fresh bread was tasty and so was the wine. Javier simply said that his date did not show up and it likely meant the same as hers, the relationship was over. He wouldn’t get into the PR and logistics, not tonight. 

She asked what kind of flowers they were and if it was really okay that she had kept them. Javier insisted, their original intended didn’t deserve them. Not only because she didn’t come but she likely wasn’t going to give him what the flowers truly mean. The other woman had bestowed a more detrimental theme of peonies by standing him up - shame.

“Someone who is willing to leave a person alone like this without explanation, would not give me a happy life.” Javi explains, she agrees and wonders if they have a different meaning for her. 

“I don’t know if I can give you a happy life either. We just met Javier.” Her nervous giggle informs him that his explanation may have been a bit serious given how they’ve come together. 

“For you bonita (beautiful), the peonies do have a different meaning. I was hesitant to come over to the table. It looked like you were waiting for someone too and I didn’t want to intrude but I also didn’t want to miss an opportunity either.” He asks the waiter for a bottle for the table and their soup arrives with more bread. Javier hands her the butter so she can put it on her bread. “I’m also still nervous that I could mess this up at any point. And please, call me Javi. It's been a while since I’ve met someone I’ve genuinely liked so I’m bashful.”

“Quite the charmer you are, Javi. You’re definitely not messing anything up. You’re not the only one who’s nervous. I’m having a wonderful time and we haven’t even made it to dessert yet!” They both laughed at her attempt at a joke and continued the evening. Chatting, eating, drinking and laughing. Relaxed and without a care for them both.

Javier Gutierrez could just be on a date with a beautiful woman, maybe have a second of third with her. Maybe show her his shirt that’s the same color as her lipstick. Maybe find out what movies she enjoys and if he’s seen them, does she like Nicolas Cage movies? If she does, he may just swoon.

So many things and possibilities.

Debaters of the true color of Javi’s orange/red/dash of yellow shirt 👕: @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @tinytinymenace @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981

@inept-the-magnificent @tinytinymenace @yourcoolauntie @rhoorl @megamindsecretlair

@soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @saturn-rings-writes @604to647 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@trulybetty @alltheglitterandtheroar @connectioneverywhere @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javi gutierrez x plus size reader #jettsflora&faunachallenge #fanfiction #pedro pascal #javi gutierrez #javier gutierrez #javier gutierrez x reader #red peonies

[jsuli]

Tsu'tey x gender neutral reader - avatar

@adrian-nebula im so sorry about this my laptops gone mental and your ask has disappeared from my inbox, but here is the reposted request:]

You looked around at Pandora's lush, neon flora and fauna in awe of its unimaginable beauty, almost in tears of happiness at its beauty, and jealousy as your own dull planet had lost everything natural about it long ago.

Every little speck of nature was deemed collectible by you as you nearly fell over from how much you were carrying. Many kinds of shrubs, sticks, plants, rocks, and what looked to be moss were stacked in your arms as you practically pranced back to Hometree to show your newly appointed babysitter.

Tsu’tey had been made overseer of your training to becoming 'one of the people', to which he protested with no luck. He was stuck with you and your ramblings, and strangely enough, bringing him presents at every chance you got, asking him question after question about the vegetation.

Every day it was a bundle of glowing leaves, a funny-shaped stick, or clumps of magenta moss, but this time you felt as if you really scored with the golden rock with smatterings of black, although it did have a strange warmth to it...

But you ignored this and continued on your way back to Hometree, thinking of making it into a necklace by wrapping some hanging vine around the stone. Maybe you'd give it to Tsu’tey as a thank-you gift for putting up with you!



that isn't weird, is it? no! it's only a gift, a token of my appreciation! yeah... You offhandedly thought to yourself.

you came out of your thoughts and realized you were already standing in front of Hometree, awkwardly waddling in place with your findings. Travelling up the spiral structure, you thought about the time you spent with Tsu’tey and his annoyance at your mere existence.

Does he seriously hate me? I understand I'm just a 'dreamwalker' to him but I hope he warms up to me soon...



Arriving at the branch you had become familiar with, you plopped down your goods onto your allocated hammock and cut a decent-sized vine from the smaller branch beside you. you made quick work of wrapping the vine around the warm golden rock and creating what you deemed was a pretty nice necklace.

Hopping up, you decided to go find Tsu’tey, as time for your daily na'vi lessons was approaching. You made quick work of slithering down the large branches, something you had become used to since your first try, which had ended in bruises and Tsu’tey scolding you. Reaching the ground, you fell into a light jog towards the spot you meet him at every day.

Once you reach the spot you find that Tsu’tey has already arrived. You see the disapproving look he gives you but miss how long the look lingered.

"what have you been doing all day? wasting time once again?" he grumbled as his sharp eyes looked through yours. His stare felt as if it was judging your very soul.

"I was out... getting stuff"

The roll of his eye told you he was not pleased with your answer. "this time you waste 'collecting things', could be used for your training an-" You cut him off with a finger to his lips which he froze at.

you smiled deeply and opened your palm, revealing the jewelry to his agitated face.

"so I found this really cool rock, and look it's so pretty, and I just thought you've helped me so much so why not make you something nice-" you were cut off by Tsu’tey letting out a shriek of laughter and doubling over, clenching his own stomach. you were in shock to see him let loose like that around you.

His voice cracked a few times while he howled with laughter, which was actually rather cute. You couldn't help but notice how the toned muscles on his sides spasmed with his laughter. "Hah! that's viperwolf dropping! you've gifted me viperwolf droppings!"



"oh"



After finishing his bought of laughter he lightly smacked the back of your head while still giggling at the necklace in your hand. after a few seconds, he snatches it off of you.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea-" "oh, be quiet demon"



---

The look of horror on your face would never be forgotten by him when he wore the necklace the next day, a big dopey smirk spread across his face at your embarrassment.

#avatar #tsu'tey x reader #tsu’tey #atwow

[bedoballoons]

Can I get some more of their “ ideal diets date” with Childe, Ayato, zhongli, toma, Al Haitham, Cyno, and Tighnari pls? Ty

Of course! Thank you so much for your request and I hope you enjoy!! Sorry this took so long!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Their dream date with you~༺}

CW: Super sweet fluff!! Requests open!

(Includes: Thoma, Zhongli, Alhaitham, Tighnari, Childe, Ayato, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Thoma:

Thomas dream date with you would start in the afternoon, the sun high in the sky as the two of you explored inazuma together and learned new things about eachother along the way. He'd buy you your favourite flower, putting it gently behind your hair as he complimented your beauty and told you how much he loved you for what seemed like the 10th time that day.

Then as it started getting dark he'd capture your hand in his, your fingers intertwining softly as he lead you to a special place. A gazebo, not far from the city, covered in vines and flowers that left a subtle floral scent in the air, around the top were hanging glass jars with candles in them, their outsides foggy white in colour and painted with butterflies. He'd sway with you gently, slow dancing as the sun began to set and end the night with a kiss full of every emotion he'd felt the entire night.

𑁍༄Zhongli:

Zhongli would arrive with a simple gift for you, something sentimental and full of meaning, before showing you the most delicious restaurant in Liyue, mora not a concern as he bought you everything you looked at along the way. He'd pull the chair out for you as you sat down at the table and he'd tell you to order whatever you'd like, then you'd share a meal together where you chatted about everything under the sun.

As the night started to fall, he'd show you to a bench that was out looking the piers, the ships looking majestic and beautiful under the soft glow of the moon. His arms would wrap around you as he held you close to him and the two of you watched the reflections in the water swirl with each soft breeze. It would be calming, loving...and perfect.

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham wouldn't want to go anywhere crowded, in fact he'd prefer to stay home and cook you a romantic dinner, something he didn't do often but he knew you enjoyed. He'd even light candles he'd stolen from Kavehs stache, setting the mood with their light airy smell and letting a quiet melody play in the background.

After you two had finished eating, you'd pick out a book off his shelves and snuggle up on one of the large couches, his arm wrapped around you as he read out loud to you. His voice calming, relieving you of any stress you'd previously had and his gentle touch making you feel sleepy, he'd rub soft circles into your skin as you started to drift off.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnaris ears would twitch slightly with nervousness, his face slightly blushed as he helped you into the small boat he'd rented. Normally he wasn't a fan of the water, but there's something he's always wanted to try and you gave him the courage to actually follow through. After the two of you had found your seats, he'd carefully start rowing the boat down the small stream.

Along the way he'd tell you about different flora you saw along the way, about how fish swimming along the side of the boat were integral to the aquatic plant life. Then behind him you'd see what you thought was a rock with water flowing down it, you'd tell him to stop but he'd shake his head and just when you thought you were about to crash, you enter into a cave. The inside of it shiny with crystals, different colours sparkling on every surface and reflecting on the water...it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

𑁍༄Childe:

Childes perfect date would take place in a quiet town in Snezhnaya, a gentle snowfall decorating the ground with a nice thick blanket of white and the air cold, enough to make your breath visible and your cheeks red, but not so cold you couldn't go out in it. He'd show you a pond that had frozen over, the ice unbreakable at this point, perfect for what he'd planned just for the two of you.

He'd drop the bag he'd been carrying onto the ground, reaching into it to retrieve two sets of ice skates and then he'd help you get yours on before carefully leading you onto the ice. His arms tight around you to keep you upright as he taught you how to skate, explaining that he'd done the same thing with his siblings and that this used to be his favourite activity whenever he was home. You'd share a special moment where his face would be close to yours, the gentle snowflakes in his hair as he looked into your eyes and then placed a soft kiss on your lips.

𑁍༄Ayato:

𑁍༄Cyno:

Ayato would dress in a suit, his hair slicked back except for a single light blue strand and he'd have the kitchen maids make a incredibly fancy dinner, lanterns hung up around the roof of a out door eating area. A nice breeze blowing through, making the sakura wind chimes play a soft tune and to add to it all, after the dinner he'd ask for your hand, dancing with you gracefully.

Your heart would race as he dipped you, his face having a sly smile as he pulled you back up, even closer to him, his hands sliding down to your waist and his forehead resting against yours. His voice would be soft as he said he loved you and then to confirm it again he'd kiss you deeply, your face bright red by the end.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

At first you'd think Cynos dream date would only consist of TCG or..."interesting" jokes, but he's actually far more romantic than that, taking a whole day to plan out the perfect date. It would begin with him showing up at your door, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and cringy pickup line he'd know you'd like. He'd take you out to eat at a place Tighnari had recommended and along the way he'd stop by a store to pick you up a gift.

Then he'd tell you a couple of jokes as you made your way to a field, a few wildflowers standing out against the green grass. He'd sit down in it, you sitting next to him and then to your surprise you'd see butterflies all around you, no not butterflies...but mechanical butterflies? The same ones Kaveh and Faruzan had created...but these ones were painted in your favourite colours...

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ Have a nice day!*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin #thoma x you #thoma x reader #thoma headcanons #thoma fluff #zhongli headcanons #zhongli hcs #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli fluff #venti x you #venti genshin x reader #venti headcanons #venti fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham fluff #childe x you #childe headcanons #childe fluff #ayato headcanons #ayato fluff #ayato x you #cyno fluff #cyno x you #cyno headcanons #tighnari fluff #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader

[quibllyfish]

mammon request bc i need them too 😭 going on cute lil dates with him (he insists he pays for everything, even if u touch a piece of clothing at the store it’s urs) just some v cute shit :))

꒰﹒🌐﹕Obey Me Mammon x Gn!Reader dating hcs. . . !

﹕lots and lots of fluff and pampering (with a small amount of shenanigans)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა：❝—Hi again! I really hope this turned okay- Im not completely used to writing fics yet! I love love LOVE mammon though he’s my meow meow. Thank you so much for the detailed ask!! (I did not proofread at all btw so sorry) ꒱ . . ♡

-mammon, even though he’s the avatar of greed, is the most attentive boyfriend you could ever ask for. he absolutely adores you—cherishes you, and he’s not exactly sure how to guarantee that you’ll feel the same way about him. in fact, he’s not really even sure how to convey the depth of what he feels for you!! he’s never been good at the whole genuine relationship thing… 

-but he knows exactly what makes him feel loved!! mammon’s top love languages are without a doubt gift giving and acts of service; considering his nature, its reasonable that favors and presents are what he thrives off of. if those things make the great mammon feel special, then surely they’ll make you feel super duper great!!!

-one form of him showing this to you is dates—and not just normal dates. he’ll go to any length in order to make an occasion remarkable for you. 

-you like the outdoors? all of the sudden he’s bought a lavish cabin in the most whimsical, fairytale-esque forest in the devildom to whisk you off to. he’ll even beg satan to help him read up on the local flora and fauna so he can look ‘waayyyy cool and educated on plants and stuff’ for his favorite human!! be weary though, because if you two end up stumbling upon some kind of wolf or bear you wont be able to stop him from getting into a brawl with it ‘to protect you’. (inevitably you’ll end up back at the cabin having to patch up his wounds while he haughtily argues that he could’ve handled it if you hadn't gotten in between the two of them)

-you mention you got a stain on your favorite shirt? mammon is on it! next thing you know you’re being piled into a sports car and driven to a massive mall. every article of clothing you stop to look at is yours (even if he quips in that you have to say ‘pretty please, mammon?’ for him to buy you something—it’s only a bluff). if you try on clothes for him he’ll get soo so flustered—asmo’s right, you are really cute… grahhh!!! why does asmodeus get to think about you like that? you wouldn’t do this for him, right? mammon completely forgets his train of thought when you pull him into a tight hug and thank him for the gifts. 

-the first time you two have a ‘casual’ date is surprisingly fulfilling for him. you had had a really bad week. your classes were overwhelming you, you were low on sleep, and to make matters worse, when you were trying to get water your glass slipped out of your hands and shattered. mammon had been nearby—his head whipped around to meet the sound of you yelping. just as he was about to go on about how humans are way too clumsy, not like demons, he noticed tears welling up in your eyes…

-why did he feel sick to his stomach all of the sudden? it was as if alarm bells started going off in his head, ears buzzing as his throat tensed. mammon rushed towards you, disregarding the glass as he scooped you into his arms; pressing kisses onto your head as he uttered on about how you're okay and its just a stupid glass! he can buy a million way cooler glasses for you! he was about to offer to take you shopping for them before you wrapped your arms around him and asked him to stay in your room and keep you company for the night.

-of course, he obliged. he could totally, totally do that! even if his face was bright red at the thought of it. you both spent the night snuggling, tickle fighting, watching movies; most importantly, you two talked. a lot. about anything and everything under the sun. it was so easy to talk to you. this feeling was so unfamiliar—unlike other people, when you talked, you didn't make him feel like a let down. every word out of his mouth was met with a friendly response, banter, smiling. not once did you meet him with disdain or condescension. you looked at him like he was your entire world… 

-as the both of you fell asleep that night, mammon held you close to his chest. he could’ve sworn that, just for a second, he couldn’t want anything more than what he had right now.

#obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #mammon headcanon #mammon x reader #fluffy #obey me mammon #obey me #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #writing tag

[theemployees]

Hm. I heard you wanted to know about HoneiSukle, Yes? The only bee capital inside the hidden city's territory, a maze that you will have to learn the directions of based on word of mouth and experience. But I suppose I can tell you all about it.

Tall, golden, imposing, covered in plants buildings with a grand white castle at the center with tall walls surrounding the kingdom, alongside the tall and dense forest around is what a person would see for the first time will say about them.

But as a bee yokai living inside the hive? Well, You take notice of the intricacies of how everything is built.

You notice the barely visibly patterns of hexagons embedded into the material that makes up the buildings. The special designs, symbols, and spells hidden, stitched, and marked into banners, signs, glass, and even the glistening white outerwalls.

You see how the forest has many hidden sigils and posts hidden inside the dense canopy of leaves above the past along with inside the thicker trees themselves. Those yokai are very territorial if you were about to ask.

You notice the golden arches that always look oh so complicated yet so simple.

You notice how the plants flourish in the environment and how much care gets put into where they get placed, you see the gardeners tend to the plants and make sure that they do not die under their care.

You see all the different signs, made with a dark wood or stone and usually written on with bright colors, each color meticulously representing what establishment and business the building was being used for.

The gardens are such a sacred thing, did you know? They say that the gardens hold ancient and magical properties, some people do not come out for hours at time but claim they've only been inside for only half that time... Others say that when a terribly ill person visits the gardens, they come out mostly healed. Not all the way no, but it's improves a person's health and heightens their chance of survival or being healed.

One thing is for certain, These special and sacred gardens are heavily guarded areas due to some distasteful Yokai coming in and trying to vandalize them and destroy the ancient and often extinct flora and plants inside.

Of course, these perks only apply to the giant gardens and the Castle Gardens. The parks dotted around the hive have a much lower chance at reducing a yokai's trouble, but constant exposure had been shown to benefit a person's mental health.

... But of course, These are rumors that have been debunked by the Bee, Bear, and some other trusted yokai by the Bees.

You see how they act, yes? Hesitant and wary of any outsiders who have not 'proven' themselves. There is even a schedule on when outsiders can visit or not. First half of the week and very certain sacred holidays forbid the entry of anyone who is not trusted. Politicians alike have tried to fight against the rules, but they get reminded that the Queens of the past had bought the land they reside. They bought the entire forest and a little ways from it.

It's only nature that they are paranoid, especially after the great war. They don't want to lose the hive again after all, so why trust outsiders?

While yes, a Bee Yokai alone may be the sweetest thing you've ever met... But an entire group of them? They can be the most bitter yokai around if you say or do the wrong thing around them.

But can you really blame them? They have a shakey alliance with the Wasp Yokai because 4 generations ago, one of them killed the King of HoneiSukle. An act like that is unforgivable but the Bees are trying to repair it. Even if it's shakey....

Unlike with the Butterflies, Most of them can be quite rude to the bees and will not show any kindness towards them. It's only reasonable that the Bee Yokai are rude back, Because you mess with one, you mess with all of them.

They do however, have a nice and stable relationship with the Ursine. The Bear and Bee Yokai usually always have a good bond, The Bees provide Honey and the Bears provide protection. It's why the Bears have free reign over the schedule unlike other yokai species, it's because the Bears are fair to the Bees. They act as good bodyguards and well... Would you want to fight a bear?

What you don't see is that the entire city is accessible to the disabled too, Elevators, Professional buses that have wheelchair accessible closest to the doors and not just the front... Basically, everyone inside is treated equally and fairly unless given reason to otherwise.

And the more you stay, the more you know how to properly navigate the maze and customs that is in HoneiSukle Hive, The Hidden City's only Bee City.

......

Well, how about I show you a paper I found that advertises HoneiSukle, hm? The second part seems to be targeted about the two week Flower festival every mid spring.

Ahem.

'The HoneiSukle district was a section of the city that was surrounded by forest with all types of trees and protected by the Hardworking bees. Tall standing buildings that shimmered like gold with hexagonal patterns all around.

HoneiSukle is home to one of the largest family of hardworking bees. These bees all had different jobs they had to tend to, from saleswomen to CEOs, This Colony is the most prosperous from all the hardwork they put into making their 'Hive'.

The HoneiSukle District is home to the tastiest honey known to Yokai kind and the most elaborate and perfect beeswax candles. Their Luscious and colorful gardens are known to be tourist attractions and genuine places where tourists could watch worker bees take care of the flower and some even taking the pollen!

Every Spring, when everybee has regained their energy, There is a festival that lasts for two weeks to celebrate the new blooming flowers and the new year. Many are allowed to come to this festival and celebrate along the bees, and you can hear everyone happy. Children are laughing and running around, Elders are over to the side gossiping about all the different gossip they have picken up, both young and old are participating in different games and are letting the world know they are having fun. The Queens' happily look over the events from atop their throne that is infront of the giant sakura tree that had been there for centuries.

Every Friday during the festival, Yokai will come along and dance around with their lovers and close ones as Cherry Blossoms fall around them to 'strengthen' their love for eachother, as the bees believe that Friday is the day of love for both platonic and romantic. It does not matter who you bring along, just as long as you are respectful and only wear white or pastel colors!'

Now, you may wonder why they specified that you wear white, yes?

Well, It's because during the floral parades, bees on floats and on their wings and feet will start throwing washable pigments and colored water at the crowd, staining their clothes and skin/fur/scales with an array of colors.

I mentioned the city being user accessible before, Have I? Well, this festival is no exception. They have performers on the ground who dance and cover the ground below, other bees pull up those who cannot use or do not have their wings with a swing so they can experience flying and throwing pigment at the crowd. Fan dancers all around with white and light blue fans to mimic wings.

I think I have a photo of the festival.. Along with one of the area normally...

ah yes, here it is.

Hmm...

Well, if you ask more questions I'm sure I'll be able to answer them.

— ???

(ty to @disgracedghostprincess for the last two drawings, and if you are gonna ask about HoneiSukle pls add hsh first thing for our sake—)

@tmntaucompetition

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #the employees rottmnt #the rotm employees #rottmnt oc #oc #original character #tmnt au competition #peony rosejumper #tmnt au #writing #really the bees knees district #candles and honey are their main export #be prepared to meet some very special bees :) #HoneiSukle asks #HoneiSukle lore #mmmm toasty #coyote was here :3 #i am the lore master #pee pee poo poo #employee lore dump

[echantedtoon]

Until Death Do You Vow Ch11 Epilogue

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Snaccpop Studios for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.)

-TWO YEARS LATER-

The sights of the other cars and buildings going by met f/c eyes as you looked out the car window and stared at the beginning sunset. 

"So how was work today?", Taylor asked a moment after he started up driving again. 

You turned to your boyfriend and sighed tiredly. "It's fine. One of my coworkers got a broken leg from tripping over the stairs so I had to cover their shifts today. I swear all those little goblins just wanted to grab everything. I had to stop one from trying to climb on the horse statue from Greece."

Your job at the local museum was a good one but you hated school field trip days with a burning passion.  All the little imps running wild, barely listening, complaining about being bored, and trying to grab their little mits on everything they see was a lot for one person. No help from teachers who didn't seem to care as long as all of the kids stayed in one chaotic hoard. Thank God they didn't stay for more than three hours! You could've snapped and yelled at one of them-

Taylor groaned. "Ugh. Another reason why I am going to make sure that our kid doesn't end up like that."

Your brow rose. "Our kid huh?"

He shrugged without looking at you. "Still plenty of time for one. *ahem* "

You slowly shook your head yes with a sly smile. "Uh huh...Well we'll have to discuss that with Elias first and see what he thinks about becoming a second father."

"U-Um. Yeah. *Ahem* ..A-Anyways! I'm almost ready to publish my book." Taylor steered the conversation to something else really quick before turning on his blinker and turning to right onto another road. "My publisher said it looks good, but I need to get an idea for the cover. I know a really good artist and they can do it for a good price and I know what I want it to look like."

"Sounds like a plan. ...Hey. You didn't forget to close up the shop again did you?"

Taylor briefly shot you a cross between a pout and scowl. "Of course I didn't! Geez! I forget to lock the backdoor one time!"

It had been one year since you both graduated from Zephyr University. You'd taken to getting that job at the museum you've wanted. It was a good job, usually quiet but sometimes it can be stressful especially with tours of little kids of field trips. Taylor...well he didn't change much if at all. He was still the same. Still went at the most random times to do investigations. Still obsessed with documenting the paranormal but instead of running a club, he preferred to do so via updating a website by the same name as the old club. But his real day job was something that neither of you seemed to expect.

He ran a flower shop.

Gallagher And Potts's Bouquets and Flora. The name had taken forever to decide between the two men and usually consisted of Elias growing said flowers or however many flowers a specific person ordered, and Taylor just loading them up into his car and taking them over to the shop which was pretty close to the mansion just inside town. Taylor became fascinated by ecto-bontany and Elias was really happy one of his hobbies could be appreciated and flourish. The hardest part was renovating the old building you all bought for the shop. 

But he's been working on a larger side project that was paranormal investigating. Taylor had come up with the idea of writing the history behind the Gallagher curse in detail to clear up the legend once and for all..minus a couple details of course such as Elias actually being a real ghost. You both rather not have a floodgate of people coming to gawk at Elias like some carnival attraction. The collaboration AND Taylor's interest in Elias's flowers meant Elias and Taylor talking a whole lot more and well..Elias shared many intimate and personal life experiences in great detail about his life and family agreeing to want to clear up the entire legend. You guessed in turn that brought Taylor to open up about his own past. One thing lead to another, and you suddenly found the both of them falling for each other.

As for yourself it was also a new experience. Carefully but awkwardly going around a best friend who had feelings for you but eventually you both decided to try dating after a month of awkwardly dancing around the topic. And you both kept in touch with Elias so one thing also lead to another-

So here you three were. All in one big relationship with each other. It had its ups and downs but you can say you enjoyed this much more than the 'relationship' you had with Ian. Now all that heartache just seemed like a bad dream you barely thought of anymore.

Sunset came to the sky painting it pretty oranges, pinks, and yellows as the car kept driving along until you got to the edge of town and Taylor was turning into a nicely paved driveway added to the front of the mansion. Slowly coming to a stop, Taylor cut the engine and you both got out to go inside the now renovated mansion. Turns out there was a lot more than just the family jewels hidden away in the mansion. When you suggested getting the mirror fixed (thus it wouldn't be broken anymore and that would mean no more curse because of there being no more broken mirror), both men seemed all for it ..But you and Taylor could barely afford anything, Elias couldn't part with his family's jewels, and you wouldn't ask him to do Elias had agreed to spare with enough of the rest of the hidden fortune just to fix the mirror which now sat perfectly fixed and safely tucked away in Elias's room. In a hidden place only Elias knew. All fixed which meant it was harmless which meant no more bad luck which meant no more curse! When Elias brought up the idea of you both possibly living there too...Well as Taylor put it-

"I'm not living somewhere that'll give me an asthma attack!"

After you elbowed him for the rude comment, you three came to another compromise. Which was Elias allowing just enough more of the surprisingly gigantic fortune to renovate the mansion back to its full glory.

"The light's still on. Elias must be doing something."

"Probably haunting out new recipes to try and make us eat it." He rolled his eyes when you shot him a look. "You know I'm right. I'm not trusting him with anymore meatloaf." His hands grabbed the doors. 

"You're the one who asked him to try and make it because you wanted to try ghost food!"

"And I learnt my lesson." The doors were loudly pushed in to reveal a pretty clean and safe mansion. "Hey! We're back!"

You walked right in behind Taylor and found a regular sigh for you but scary for anyone else. Brooms, mops, rags, and all kinds of cleaning products were flying around and cleaning the various places of the mansion by himself. Puppeteered by the blue floating Spector in the middle of the foyor. Elias turned and his floating face lit up in a wide smile seeing you both eyes sparkling.

"My darlings!" He greeted quickly turning and floating towards you both with open arms. "How was your day?"

"Ugh. Boring. There was this guy who wouldn't make up his mind trying to decide on roses or sunflowers for like two hours and then he knocked over a stack of pots and ran off before I can make him pay for anything! I had to clean it up myself!" Taylor made no moves to stop Elias who reached him first and proceeded to plant a kiss of greeting to your shared grumpy boyfriend's face.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. Next time just ask him politely to fix his mistakes," Elias assured him giving a comforting squeeze to Taylor's arms.

"Looks like you've been busy too," you commented looking at the nearest broom sweeping a pile of dirt into a dustpan.

Elias was quick to greet you next giving you the same kiss and hold as Taylor. The coldness of his lips making your body involuntary shiver. "Spring cleaning! I already have the upstairs finished and wanted to surprise you both with a clean house. Are you hungry? I made dinner."

"After the day we had, definitely. What did you make?"

"Meatloaf!" Taylor froze as Elias smiled wider. "I found a recipe for it in one of my grandmother's other cook books. You'll both love it!"

Taylor turned paler than Elias and you couldn't help but laugh.

#Until Death Do You Vow #tgogm #the groom of gallagher mansion #thegroomofgallaghermansion #elias gallagher x reader #elias gallagher #taylor potts x reader #taylor potts

[kithtaehyung]

busted (3tan) (teaser) | myg

teaser: busted (m) (3tan10)  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; [redacted] ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: [redacted lol just trust me] note: alright, listen.. the chapter is coming along but plans and life got in the way so i wasn’t able to get it done before tour. however, i do have a lot of it written/halfway done, so i feel comfortable enough to offer y’all a teaser and will finish it out once i’m done with this trip. i do hope y’all understand, 3tan is coming back v v soon ! :’))  note 2: as for the rest of this chapter.. fuck lol warnings: none for teaser, final list to be named on drop day! est. drop date: late may - early june 2023 teaser wc: 1.8k est. total wc: 15-18k

-

-

Here goes nothing and everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However. 

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

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you. 

And they pass by.

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

It’s weird to say it. 

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

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

“Oh, god.”

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

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

“Who are you seeing?” 

“Kook…” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did.”

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

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

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

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

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

Because they are still the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Do you really?” 

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

And you’re going to.

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

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch. 

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

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

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

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

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

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

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

“I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I have!”

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

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.” 

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

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

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry. 

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

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

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

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling? 

…Were you both that loud?

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

“Open up.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You spare a look at your door. “We’re okay.” 

“…Okay.”

Even though it’s completely silent.

You know damn well he hasn’t left. 

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

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

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

-

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tbc. :’))) 

- 

ahh how do we feel !! 💌 would you like to buy me a 🍊?

A/N: soooooo here you go before i continue with the rest of vacay!! LMAOO wouldn’t it be so funny if the whole chapter drops by surprise like y’all are wanting it to? just like this? wild.... A/N 2: always always gonna thank everyone that’s reading and supporting the series! there’s gonna be a lot happening in this chapter just like forfeit, so note-taking or bulletpoint format while reading might be a thing again if you wanna be able to remember things.. ahaha. pls give me strength bc i need it T^T  ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist  ⇥ 18+ only taglist!  ⇥ masterlist 

#ehehehehhehhheh #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fic #yoongi fic #three tangerines #bts fanfic #yoongi angst #*latest #ryenwrites #teasers #3tan10 #yoongi smut #yoongi #btshoneyhive

[demonicbaby666]

The Melody of Loss

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: angst 

Words: 1.4k+

Warnings: suicidal ideation, malnutrition, depression, grieving, blood.

Summary: Takes place after Emily has ‘passed away’. It’s really just an angsty fic about grieving the loss of Emily. 

A/n: I highly recommend you do not read this is you are prone to being easily triggered, its v sad and could be painful to read. But if you do, put on some sad music and get in your feels because this is 10x better with sad music. I recommend you’re someone else (flora cash) and it’s okay (Tom Odell) as that what I was writing it to. 

It had been two months since Emily had left your life, you had mourned her each and every day. Slowly pieces of you withered away as happy memories contorted to remnants of a life you could no longer have. Going into work served as only another reminder she truly was gone but you forced yourself to persevere.

That evening things became too much; you lay on the floor begging your brain for reasons to continue. Without Emily everything just seemed empty and there was a hollow part of your heart you feared could never be filled again. Though it was just an expression, having your heartbroken, you felt the organ incessantly cracking. Your chest was heavy and every time you breathed your lungs constricted, demanding to breathe the scent of Emily’s shampoo, the smell of her perfume, her. 

The hoodie that adorned your skin no longer smelled like Emily and you would have screamed out if your body allowed you to, alas it didn’t. You were running on minimal energy levels, meniscal daily tasks took their toll on you, nourishing your body was no longer a priority. It helped when you were numb, it wasn’t a cure, but the buzz of emotional pain was more dulled, diluted and less consuming. 

Quiet sobs passed through your lips as you lay on the cold floor, you had no idea how long you had been crying, all you knew was you woke up in the same position you were previously in with puffier, redder eyes. You sat upright, too tired to focus on anything other than the blank space that filled the front room, you finally let your eyes settle on the piano by the window. It was now gathering dust, missing its player’s delicate fingers. 

A single tear fell down your cheek as you forced yourself up and walked to sit down on the stool. You pressed down on a piano key and a note rang through the room, bouncing off the walls and yet another bittersweet memory resurfaced. 

It had been Emily’s idea to buy the piano, you’d planned on starting out small together, renovating this little apartment you’d bought with your dual salaries. One day you got back and there it was. It was vintage and though it took up a large amount of space, you couldn’t deny, the piano was perfectly suited to the vibe of the apartment. The sunlight beamed through the window and cascaded onto it as Emily sat on the velvet stool looking down at the keys. She seemed miles away, plagued by a distant memory. 

As you walked up to her, you took in how radiant she looked, a baggy white blouse was loosely hung around her shoulders, accompanied by plain black vest and casual black work slacks. The light hit her perfectly, showing off her slick jawline.

When you brought your hands down to her shoulders, she jolted just slightly but instantly relaxed into the contact. She hummed contently when you moved your hands down to wrap around her waist, nuzzling your head into her neck. The smell of her shampoo and perfume filled your nostrils and your little heart leapt from your chest, much like it always did when you found yourself wrapped around Emily.

Her hands were delicately placed on yours as she laced your finger together, holding you tight against her. The soft skin of her cheek brushed against the side of your face. You looked into chocolate brown eyes and saw the weight that was contained within them. Emily had never been a big talker and from months of experience you knew best how to help her through troubling times without antagonising her. 

You placed your lips to her temple for a few seconds, holding her you rocked from side to side on the heels of your feet, swaying the both of you slowly to a fictious melody playing in your head. Puckering your lips, you placed a soft kiss to her porcelain skin before breaking away for a split second to sit next to her on the stool. 

Shifting the weight of your body and head, you leaned into Emily. “Play me something?” 

She smiled down at you for a few fleeting moments before setting her gaze on the piano, elegantly bringing her fingers to the keys. With the lightest of touches on each key and the pedal moving under her foot now and then to elongate specific notes, Emily did as exactly you asked. When she finally finished playing you peered up at your musician to find her eyes were glazed over, salty tears were brimming over her waterline as she once again looked into the distance. 

Broken was your heart as you reached up to hold this strong-willed woman’s face between the palms of your hands. Emily wore sorrowful smile, looking deep into your eyes searching for answers to a question you hadn’t yet been graced with. A single tear spilled from her eyes and made its journey to your thumb so you could brush it away.  

“I knew a little boy; I taught him how to play.” From the heartache the words brought her you knew whatever had happened to the boy in question wasn’t an easy topic to breach. Of course, later you learnt who he was, how and why he meant so much to Emily. 

She adverted her eyes, looking around the small apartment, before meeting your gaze once again. Her hands homed in on your waist, gradually bringing your bodies closer. You vision went black as you closed your eyes and let her nimble lips grace yours with their presence. A slow rhythm was set as your lips danced together, just as they had time and time before. Held within the kiss was something new, you tasted the question that lay dormant within Emily, and you slowly pulled your lips away. 

Not wanting to stray too far away you leaned your head forward to touch Emily’s, relishing in the feel of her warm breath caressing your lips. 

“I want a family with you,” she breathed out, pulling back to study your expression. Melancholy tears were transformed into those of delight as she watched the corner of your lips twitch. 

“There is nothing in this world that I want more than just that Emily Prentiss.” Her face became blurry, you only registered you too were crying when the kiss that you shared moments later grew wet. 

With both hands you slammed the piano cover down, startling yourself when a loud thud echoed through the room that was once filled with the sweet sound of piano chords. The ghost of Emily was felt next to you on the stool and your stomach churned when you remembered just how close you once had her. How close you were to a future together, the engagement ring remained on your finger, though it had become loose, many of times it had almost fallen off, as if telling you to let go. 

Your body gave up on you and you fell against the piano, darkness circled around you, it was engulfing you, whispering and coaxing you to give in, to join Emily. It was unrelenting, sucking you in and you felt yourself folding over and over. A whirlwind of grieve was stirring mayhem in your head and you held no more control over your emotions as screams of pure agony worked their way up from your gut, passing your dry throat and exiting your chapped lips. 

Anger began to bubble within your veins, questions of how she could ever leave you all alone rung through you mind and you grabbed the only thing within your reach, throwing it as far your weak-willed arms would allow. 

“NO!” you screamed, running over to the broken shards of glass dispersed across the floor. The smell of Emily filled the whole room as her perfume circulated the air around you. “No, no, no.” You sobbed, picking up pieces of glass, not caring as red beads of blood formed on your fingers. You threw your head back looking up at the ceiling, pleading to any higher being to take this all away, to bring your fiancé back, to let you feel her arms around you again, “Please no.” you screamed out. Tears continuously trickling down your face, the acidity burning a red lined path down from your eyes to your chin. 

Your body shook from the pain that raked through you; you felt the emotions seep from every inch of you. Just as you though you would never know peace again, hands wrapped around you and the world calmed just a little bit. 

“She’s gone.” The words came out cracked and almost inaudible through all the crying. But you knew JJ heard when she held you the slightest bit tighter. You continued to cry, this time with the security of knowing you weren’t alone in all of this. 

“I-I’m so sorry.” JJ held you as she herself began to cry, only later would you understand just why her tears had been fuelled by guilt and not grief. 

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[evita-shelby]

I love all of your work. I keep trying to imagine dad tommy from fic where his little girl comes home declaring she's got a boyfriend, and him panicking because she's like 6 and he can't scare the little boy without having his wife (the reader) chewing his head for it.

Omg thank you 😊

Okay for context, Florence was born in 1929 and is reader and Tommy’s youngest child (and his favorite of all four).

And i felt the prompt went better by being from Tommy's pov to focus more on Tommy and Florence’s relationship.

Other shelby children: Charlie and Gabriel (the Shelby Boys) and Diane (Diane Elizabeth)

Six years old

Gif by @samcoving

"Who's your new friend, Flora?" Tommy asked his youngest as he kissed the top of her head and then took his place at the head of the dinner table.

Frankly, Tommy thought it wholly unnecessary that they were using the large dining room they use to host gatherings instead of the more private family dining room.

But Florence Eleanor Shelby had demanded a dinner party for tonight, so he dressed for dinner and promised his wife not to overreact when he learned why.

A promise his wife had bet three shillings he'd break before the first course.

"My boyfriend." She beamed at him.

It took everything in him not to spit the water he had been drinking. He was going to need a drink, but Y/N had a strict don't drink in front of the children or I'll have your guts for garters, or so help me God, Thomas Michael Shelby policy.

"Hello, sir, I'm Andrew Roberts, pleasure to meet you." The little boy said courteously and waited until Tommy acknowledged him to resume eating.

Because in the pantomime that is life, his little girl attached herself to the son of Billy Kimber’s accountant.

Can't scare the boy, can't be rude or else Roberts will see it as a provocation, so he acts like this is just another friend his favorite child has brought over.

"I'm gonna marry him, daddy." Six-year old Florence tells him and you make it worse by indulging her in this fantasy.

The last thing he wants is for one of his children to marry young like his parents and the John did.

"But the girl is six," his wife’s says, "you're worrying for nothing."

"You're wrong, love," he tells her later once the dinner is over.

Six turns to eleven and she and Andrew remain thick as thieves.

She was bold, bolder than her best friend, the Princess Margaret, and Andy Roberts is shy and cautious like Tommy can assume his father was.

Calls him her boyfriend still, and he reminds Y/N that its way past being a phase.

"They're children, Tom" she shakes her head even as she does some last minutes things on the children's matching costumes.

Eleven turns to sixteen and Andrew nervously asks him for permission to ask Florence to a dance.

He has a shotgun on his lap when he gives the teenage boy his answer.

Florence locks herself in her room in tears and his wife shakes her head. "There's no harm in a dance. If you don't let her go, she'll just escape through the window and steal the car again."

So he listens to his wife and the next morning he apologized to his daughter and made her promise she wouldn't do anything stupid.

Sixteen turns to twenty three and they've been featured in everything from Tabloids to Time Magazine as the United Kingdom's entrepreneurial power couple.

Florence had invited them to a dinner party at her place in Mayfair. She had news and she had made him swear on the lives of his five grandchildren (by his three older children) not to overreact.

"Mummy, Daddy, I invited you today because Andy and I have news." She's nervous, but doesn't show it. His little girl had taken over the family businesses (the legal ones)and blossomed into a strong, independent and beautiful woman like her mother.

He knew what was coming.

Thomas Shelby had cornered Andrew Roberts after he bought the engagement ring.

But Roberts had sworn him to secrecy until the tine was right.

"Out with it, girl, your mother's not getting any younger." He tries to lighten the mood at the cost of his wife subtlely kicking him ubder the table.

"We're getting married!" They try to say it in unison, but nervous Andrew had said it first.

"You knew, Tommy?" his wife asked him suprised.

"Known since she was six."

#tommy and florence #florence shelby #reader is a side character #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy is a good dad #dad!tommy #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

[izukuisbaby]

⊹˚.⋆ SHOPPING HEADCANONS - MY HERO ACADEMIA

୭ flora's notes : this wasn't planned but I'm on vacation and izuku owns my heart, I couldn't stop thinking about him when I bought clothes 😔✋🏼

୭ female reader/ male reader and gn reader friendly 💓

m.list | comment and reblog if u enjoyed !

⊹˚.⋆ IZUKU MIDORIYA

℘. he insists on tagging along with you on your shopping trips. he just loves to feel useful and wants to give his opinion on what you try on !

℘. and he's honest too ! if something looks bad on you he will nicely tell you : "I think this doesn't flatter your body well enough", "you should try another colour baby ! I've seen you wear this one before and you looked stunning/handsome !"

℘. and if one of your clothes fits you well expect a SHOWER of compliments "Y/N THAT'S THE ONE, this looks so good on you and the colour definitely lightens up your face. YOU LOOK SO CUTE oh my god" and he would be a blushing mess🥰

℘. learns about your colorimetria so he can pick clothes for you to try on or as gifts !

⊹˚.⋆ KATSUKI BAKUGO

℘. you have to DRAG him to the shopping centre because he hates being around a lot of people. he says they are impolite, careless and disrespectful and he would throw a tantrum if one dares slightly push him to get to a display.

℘. is grumpy the whole time : "hurry up goddamn it, you take 3 hours to undress I'd better get in there and remove your clothes myself", "tf is that granny outfit, who in their right mind would sell that", "this colour makes you look like you're gonna throw up your guts dumbass, get rid of it"

℘. when something suits you, he will very discretely smile and his eyes will sparkle,

"looks good i guess, take it"

"you sure, you don't seem convinced katsu ?"

"MOTHERFUCKING TAKE IT"

⊹˚.⋆ SHOTO TODOROKI

℘. "sho, you're not supposed to come in the fitting room while i change !"

"oh, I'm sorry y/n i thought it was okay since i already saw you naked"

"SHO- I mean technically you're right but you could AT LEAST close the curtain, I wouldn't want everyone to see my underwear"

℘. yeah shoto opens the curtain WIDE instead of asking if you're dressed or not. to him, the world stops when you two are together and he only sees you. so of course he wouldn't notice the 20 other people around you in the fitting area, who can now see your fully exposed body

℘. shoto apologizes and is even more of a blushing mess than izuku at this point AND he pays for your stuff (rich bf shoto💥💳💥💳💥)

℘. he is whipped and biased, he thinks everything looks good on you so he isn't of much help but he is a huge support and compliments you a lot♡

℘. ... you'd have to call Mina to actually get advice though -

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)💓

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥flora writes #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #my hero academia #mha smau #mha fluff #bnha fluff #deku x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya #prohero deku x reader #villain deku x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #pro hero shoto x reader #shoto x reader #shouto todoroki #todoroki #todoroki shōto #shoto todoroki smut