#its a lot. an d also nothing. and also everything.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About The Owl House Pilot

Huh. Never thought I’d get to do this again, but oh well.

Salutations, random people on the internet! I’m an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

And, above all else, I LOVE talking about The Owl House. I have an entire masterpost dedicated to talking about every single episode of the show and I’m halfway through a six-part review discussing everything that I love about it (Part Four's coming when it’s done. Let’s say…late June. Early July at the latest). I figured that after I’d finished that whole deal, I wouldn’t have anything left to talk about when it came to this series. Then, out of nowhere, the show’s original pilot leaked online…Sort of. It’s just an animatic with the show’s original voice cast voicing MOST of the lines, but it’s very much the pilot episode. It’s just not a finished product and I won’t share a link because I don’t think it’s exactly…legal. BUT I will at least share my thoughts about it because, well…Look at my blog. The Owl House has become the BIG THING that I obsess over for a reason and I love that I got to see what’s basically an alternate version of the show that I love. What do I mean?

Well, a pilot is MUCH different from a first episode. Where the first episode is meant to sell the show to the audience, a pilot is meant to sell it to a STUDIO. It can happen at any point of the story or act as the show’s first episode. Just as long as it shows off the characters, concepts, and tone, a studio can look at it, greenlight it, and allow the show to continue, BUT with some extra notes. Sometimes, those notes can change the rest of the series where others can keep the pilot good enough to stay canon. Some best examples off the top of my head are the pilots for Regular Show and Rick and Morty. You can tell that not much changed from the pilots of those shows and what was initially pitched, but there are clear changes in tone, animation, and even personality. Skips sounds a little more illiterate and Benson being more informed of the consequences of something as simple as rock, paper, scissors in the Regular Show pilot and Rick is noticeably more reckless and unprepared for situations in the Rick and Morty pilot. Nothing is set in stone with a pilot episode, even the ones that are canon. For the case of The Owl House, it’s pilot is no exception. A lot of it is just the same as “A Lying Witch and A Warden” at least in terms of plot and themes, but there are so many changes that show off what the series COULD HAVE been instead of what it was. How different? Well, let’s go through it all.

But real quick, I’m not going to do the “Like/Dislike” format I’ve done for previous reviews. Instead, I’m going to look through this pilot, note the changes it has, and share my thoughts on them. There’s also going to be a few spoilers to what happens in this pilot, so if you haven’t checked it out then I suggest giving it a watch wherever you can find it. It really is interesting to get a peak into what’s basically an alternate version of my favorite show.

With that said, let’s get into it.

Some Things Stayed the Same: Like I said, it’s basically an altered version of “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” The plot is that Eda uses Luz to get King back his “crown of power,” with some bits and pieces carrying over. Certain jokes that must have been too funny to get rid of, specific lines of dialogue that hit just the right notes, and some aspects of the characters’ personalities being just the same, proving that they're already perfect the way they are. It’s the changes, however, that makes for something more interesting. For one…

There’s More of an Emphasis on Comedy: As much as I love The Owl House, I’ll always admit that humor isn't its strong suit. It CAN be funny, really funny. But the jokes don’t land as well as something as Gravity Falls or Amphibia. I can say that a part of that could be because Dana Terrace wanted a more serious show, and we definitely get a sense of how serious it could be later in the series. Here, in the pilot, it definitely seems like there was more of an attempt to make the show comedic. King’s crown isn’t in a warden’s cell held within a magical barrier that only a human can get through. It’s in a Principal’s high school, locked in a human locker that Eda and King treat as something devious. Amity’s friends aren’t preppy mean girls who seem like they could cause conflict to Luz and her friends. They’re characters used for jokes who are amazed by Luz standing up to Lilith. There’s less of an edge and more of a lean towards cutesy fun, waiting until the very end to reveal something heavy. To me, it makes the pilot feel MORE like a Gravity Falls clone than the final product. Because while Gravity Falls has its serious moments, it makes it clear that it was a comedy first, both in the pilot and final product. Any moment of heart or drama was overshadowed by one hilarious joke after the other. Now, “A Lying Witch and A Warden” had a lot of jokes too, but there were also these moments that hinted at something more. You have the oppressive looking prison, the grand beam of light hiding human collectibles, a crazy chase from a threatening looking warden. And yes, the reveal that Warden Wrath was trying to go out with Eda was hilarious, but a warden who tortures a prisoner for speaking her truth gives a hint of how dark this world can be. Meanwhile, a principal sending a student to demon detention feels more like a joke, exaggerating how strict some principals can be.

And keep in mind, I’m not complaining about the pilot leaning more towards comedy. I actually laughed a lot more with it than I did with “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” I’m just trying to explain how the tone is definitely going for something different than the full series. It might have that darker twist in the end, but even that is nothing more than a surprise. I'll get into why later, but while it has darker implications, it doesn't detract from the fun times to be had. Not by much. From what I can gather from the pilot, it’s definitely going for a series with goofy, fun adventures with a bit of heart to it. It’s just missing that personal touch that’s in The Owl House. One good example of how?

There’s Not Even a MENTION of Camila: Before you say anything, this has nothing to do with me being Camila’s number one fan, to the point where I almost made a side-blog dedicated to her (I really should get on that, though…)

I bring up this change because Camila grounds the story in “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” She draws Luz close to reality and is the first thing that comes to Luz’s mind when in real danger, saying, “If I die, my mom will kill me!” More than that, though, Camila is the one real connection Luz has to the human realm. She has no friends nor adventures, but Luz always has Camila, with even the first episode hinting that. So when Luz starts getting herself into trouble or choosing to lie and stay in the Boiling Isles, it lets the audience get ready for the inevitable drama that could unfold when Luz finally tells Camila everything. By removing Camila, though, the anticipation of Luz telling her mom goes away with her. At least, it tells ME that there’s less of a worry about Luz basically running away from home. Either this version of the show is holding off from that for a future episode or that Luz and Camila’s relationship isn’t close enough where it matters. This is speculation, of course, but I still stand by that a sense of something personal with Luz is lost for the sake of having fun and epic fantasy adventures with entertaining characters. It’s still good and entertaining, and the pilot does offer something else that’s personal, but it’s not the same as The Owl House we all fell in love with. Though, it’s notable that our main cast stayed the same.

Luz, Eda, and King: Overall, I’d say that these three, personality wise, didn’t change much. King’s probably the least altered, being the exact same character he was in Season One aside from MAYBE having a design change (It’s hard to tell through storyboards). As for Luz and Eda, they’re more or less the same. There’s a BIG change with Eda (That I’ll get to later), but her devil-may-care attitude is very much the same, as well as her snark and soft nature towards Luz and King. It’s her magic that gets the real boost, being able to do more like teleport across the Isles and turn into a…softer version of the Owl Beast at will. It’s pretty cool to see the power that this alternate Owl Lady has. And then there’s Luz, who’s still the lovable weirdo we all know. Though, this version seems a lot more dim and I’m not really a fan. How does she mistakenly give a book report in geometry class? How did it take seeing Amity’s witch ears to realize that she belonged in the demon realm? Luz had her dumb moments in the show too, but not to this extent. There was still a sense of maturity and cognitive understanding that made Luz feel like someone that seemed weird but intelligent enough to think herself out of a situation. This Luz seems more weird and focused on using brute force on a problem. In a way, it makes Pilot!Luz more of an…emotionally driven Star Butterfly. A fun and capable character, but not the same kind I had made several posts and reviews talking about how much I love/personally connected to her. But, comparatively, I guess it IS the most minor change that could be done to this character. Now let’s move onto BIGGER changes.

The Boiling Isles: The look and feel of the Isles remains the same, but the fact that it’s more connected to the Human Realm is intriguing. From what I can tell, the Demon Realm treats traveling to the Human Realm like it’s going to a new country. You visit, make some memories, and, for some, send your children over to be a foreign exchange student of sorts. Except that racism seems to be encouraged in this regard as the demons and witches don’t see humans worth breathing the same air as them. And some think it’s more than okay to hunt down and kill if one human trespasses into their realm. And the reason for THAT is implied to be Belos’ doing. Er, I mean–*Checks the leaked pitch bible*--Emperor Pupa? Uh…I’ll just stick with Belos. 

And that’s extra fascinating to me because Belos being a witch hunter was a major twist that spoke VOLUMES of the kind of people he represents. To find out that this version is more anti-human makes me curious of what kind of angle the show would have taken. Would Belos have been your bare-bones fantasy villain or would the writers find a different way to tackle his symbolism? And is the reason why the Demon Realm is more open up to the Human Realm because he hopes witches and demons can report about their enemies for a possible invasion? There’s no way to know for sure because that version of the story will never come to be, but it’s interesting to think of all the things we COULD have gotten. The same goes for other characters.

Amity: To think, Amity was considered important enough to be included in the original pitch pilot alongside our main trio. It makes sense. Dana Terrace has gone on record in saying that Luz and Amity’s relationship was something she wanted from the get go, so it’s smart to establish it as quickly as possible. Though the route they take is definitely different. Instead of being enemies to lovers, Lumity, in the original pitch, went for the friends to lovers trope…kind of.

Luz, in this version, is someone so desperate for positive attention and respect that she latches onto the first person in school that was nice to her. Except that Amity was looking for some quiet and just so happened to look like she was supporting Luz when telling everyone to leave her alone. It was an act of kindness, but not one done in generosity. It still meant the world to Luz, though, making her go ALL IN with friendship. Only to be a little too forward and creeped Amity out to the point where she was polite enough to say “Thank you,” but you could see the desperation in her eyes to be anywhere but next to Luz. Yet Luz doesn’t see that. She’s still too focused that someone was actually nice to her that she blindly follows Amity into a new world just to return a weird looking passport. Because Amity’s Luz’s friend now and friends do nice things to each other. Only for Amity to accidentally reveal that she couldn’t care less for Luz and shatter her hopes and dreams in one fell swoop.

In a weird way, I’d say Luz and Amity are off on a better first impression here than in the original series. There’s no attempted dissections or witch’s duels. Just…Amity trying to be polite in Luz’s presence only to act like your typical mean girl when she THINKS Luz isn’t around. Tossing away the drawing is harsh for sure, but here’s the interesting thing: Amity didn’t know she was talking to Luz at that moment. She didn’t even get rid of the drawing until someone drew (haha) attention to it. If anything, it’s worth noting that Amity still kept the drawing on her. Almost like, despite being weirded out by Luz, Amity felt as though the drawing WAS cute and only got rid of it when she thought someone would question her for having it. Can’t have that Little Miss Perfect status shatter over something some human gave her.

Am I reaching as a Lumity shipper? Oh, most certainly yes. But we all know the inevitable conclusion between these two. We know where they’re headed. Dana has been pretty adamant about wanting it from the start and this pilot sets the groundwork well. Knowing where these two will end up, it’s easy to make connections and hypothesize what means what. Plus, look at the face of shock and amazement on Amity’s face when she sees Luz standing up to Lilith. That looks like a girl who’s…feeling things for this human weirdo. They’re not off to a ROARING start, but I can see how things could improve between Luz and Amity. And who knows, maybe this version of these two might end up dating sooner with how quickly they seem interested in each other. Again, am I reaching? Most definitely, but I went without any new Lumity content for over a year so LET ME REACH!

The point I’m trying to make is that this version of Amity definitely seems a lot more chill and polite at the start, even though it’s likely she still has issues of even being FRIENDS with a human. But not everyone starts off polite.

Lilith: Crazy to think that Lilith started out as…basically a one-off villain like Warden Wrath. At least, that’s what I gathered from the pilot. The pitch bible hints that there COULD be more to her, but at the same time she gets sent to a fire dimension and loses a hand. That’s one-off villain energy if I’ve ever seen it. But if she is meant to be something more, I would love to see what differences could come of her being the headmaster of Hexside instead of Bump and how she could either develop into someone better through Luz’s influence as a student or regress into someone worse as she makes Luz’s school life a living hell. Whatever could come from her, it was kind of fun seeing Lilith act as more of a threat with her…out of nowhere ability to turn into a bat monster. It’s a pretty cool design and I love that it was brought out due to Eda’s constant pestering, proving that Lilith is still the same insecure nut that I love. And it is pretty great that this pilot confirmed that Lilith really did dye her hair to look more serious. You CAN’T tell me that’s not why the Lilith we know ditched the curly red hair.

But that’s about it when it comes to changes towards characters and locations. Let’s talk about the potential differences in the ongoing story.

Luz Stays Trapped Instead of Choosing to Stay: I mean, technically she chose to stay by breaking that key for no reason, but that’s more of a consequence of not thinking things through. She didn’t NEED to break the key, Luz could have just as easily pulled it out. Instead, she kicked the dang thing, leaving herself trapped in this new world. And it’s here that I would like to once again point out how this makes Pilot!Luz different and what’s lost by not including Camila. The Luz WE know would have been more careful. She always felt like someone who fought smarter, not harder, even in that first episode. Luz didn’t fight Wrath head on, she rallied a prison riot that distracted him long enough for her to hit a firework ball into his mouth. She’s intelligent and resourceful, where this one…kind of is? It was smart to send Lilith to the fire dimension, but again, not a great plan to break the key. Plus, without Camila, this doesn’t feel like as big of a deal as it could have been. Camila was the first person in Luz’s mind as she destroyed the portal door in the Season One finale. In the pilot, with no Camila, it feels like a non-sacrifice or even that big of a deal. She’s stuck, sure, but Luz doesn’t really seem to care that much. She feels happy being with Eda and King and doesn’t seem to be in that big of a rush to get home. Plus, it’s not exactly complicated to get back. There was a whole line of portal doors in the beginning that Luz could potentially sneak through and there’s not yet an established cannon that makes it seem like getting a new key would be difficult or even complicated. Once more, it gives the impression that this version of The Owl House would be focused less on personal stakes and more like giving Luz that fantasy adventure she’s always been craving for. It would make for a fun show, but not the SAME show. However, it is worth noting that there could be some potential drama. Especially for one twist that was a JOLT to my system.

EDA WORKS FOR THE EMPEROR?!: WHAT?!

I’ll admit, I feel like the reason why this is so shocking is because of the Eda I know and the Emperor I learned to fear. I mean, Eda, the woman who would sooner eat her own fist before even CONSIDERING helping Belos, even before the witch hunter business, was originally meant to HELP him. Of all the changes that the series could have made, this was by far the biggest. Everything that I thought to be constant turned out to be a lie and I was NOT prepared for it!

But again, the reason why I got that big of a reaction is because it goes against everything I knew about Eda. If this was my first introduction to her, it’d be less of a shocking twist and more of a…hook. Like how Invincible’s first episode (Don’t watch if you’re a baby) ends with a character you THOUGHT you could trust doing this intensely dark thing. The rest of the season is leading you to figure out WHY this was done and how the other characters would react, making you want to see more as the show inevitably leads up to this big conclusion that changes everything you once knew. The same applies here, with the reveal making me wonder why Eda would do this, how long she’s been doing it, how it will affect her relationship with Luz, and whether or not it’d be an easy fix. And much like the ending of Invincible’s first episode (Seriously, NOT meant for babies), this hook makes me interested in wanting to see what comes next. Except I never will know because that came from a version of The Owl House that will never exist.

The pilot is interesting because it shows me what The Owl House COULD have been. I wouldn’t say that it’s better than what we got or even that it’s a better first impression than “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” It’s definitely FUNNIER, I’ll give it that, but it doesn’t make the original pitch better, it makes it different. Everything looks the same and sounds the same, but the overall feel of this pilot makes it something that would have had a different story, tone, and ideas on how to develop these characters. Would I have liked it? Absolutely. It seems like a fun time. But that doesn’t mean I like the show we got any less. This was more like…getting a peek into an alternate universe where a show I already love would have been vastly different. And after over a year without any new Owl House content aside from stuff that fans have made, this was a very pleasant surprise that leaves me excited for the NEW fan content that springs from all this.

But that’s enough talking about a show that could have been made. Time to get back to a series that came into existence and I still love so much. See you all then as you all milk this gift that the internet has given you.

#the owl house #luz noceda #camila noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #amity blight #lilith clawthorne #the owl house pilot #what i thought about #the owl house reviews

[strawbebyjam]

i think i’ve reached my breaking point

#i think maybe i already passed it and was just in. a lot of denial #i know how badly i need help. i know how badly i’m doing. i know i’m not getting things done. i know i’m keeping everyone out. i know i’m #giving up. but it is. so hard to get help HDJDHDH there is way too much shame and effort and energy it requires #and i just don’t. have any of it left. and i’m so tired. and i hate myself so much. and i can’t even think of a single redeemable feature #inside ot out or anywhere and i’m just. i don’t know what i can do or should do but everything is so hard. all the time. and i’m not even #draggung through anymore i am entirely stuck. i keep failing courses and graduation keeps getting delayed. and i can’t fo anything. and i’m #so scared but i’m also closer to tryly and genuinely giving up than i ever have veen before #and before i use d yo feel like there were two lose lose routes i coudl take but therr was partial joy in both. but now im at a pointwhere #have failed enough and failed repeatedly enough that i cant even. get to yhose situations. and theres just #more than anything there’s so much shame. i don’t know what yo do with muself anymore. im luinh all the time to everyone and i hatemhysemf #so mych. im so so so disgustedwith myself and i dknt know what to do #like i always kbew i was the weak type but seeing it in action is just. i dontknow who i am anymore #neg #mano.mindtalk #i feelbad that i come on gete and say shit i should ve telling a therapist but i cannot affordthat shit and i refuseto spew this. seeage of #a brain onto my friends #alsolike. i know fullwell i am. so secerely mentally ill lmfoajim a fucking psychollgu major i know my braib is fucked but i cant do shitabo #ut it and its so. frustrating. but i also have no excuseto be the way i am everyone caressos much everyone is so careful butwhenever i tryyo #get help it doestn work nothing changes and its so. frustratingand tiring like im really just so tired

[erb23]

I miss [some of the comic characters I read] having civilian friends. Or just a civilian life in general.

If you don't balance out the heroics with them having something to come home to and live through then why are they even putting on a mask to fight for?

#i dunno like i said it isn't every character but it just seems like my current faves have people #who just don't care about that good good work life balance between civvies and hero stuff #though current newly started series are looking up in that aspect #at least B**** D**** or G**** don't have their hooks in my faves anymore though they did a lot of damage #*why would you want to read [characters] doing homework or hanging out with friends* because its interesting #old men literally make writing harder for themselves by limiting scenarios that could do so much to build up and flesh out characters #and then they go out of their way to make the worst decisions imaginable that wipe out nearly 4 years of character development #and then have the audacity to do nothing with their new blank slate and leave others to navigate the mess after. #Anyways giving one man full control over an entire slate of characters and shoving out all the writers that have been making good stories #with them for 4+ years was a dumb decision and soured so many people writing for them and then editorial wonders why they all start working #elsewhere #With all I have to say you'd think I only read American big 2 comics but nah. Everything else is just more consistent or has like 0 #fan presence so I'd be the only one talking about stories I like. But at any given time i'm reading 3 different books #and i'm slowly translating a ln the hooked itself in my brain. I'm bad at it but its so fun. Also studying for a certification exam :P

[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

[svnnysidez]

anton nsfw alphabet

minors dni

a=aftercare: hes so sweet, gives you kisses and cuddles, cleans you up a little bit but not anything big, just gets some tissues but he loves after sex cuddles

b=body part: his favorite body part on himself is probably his height (ik its not like a part stfu) he loves the size difference between himself and you. his favorite body part on you is probably your neck, his head is always burried in your neck giving you kisses and sucking hickies 🤭

c=cum: he just loves to cum. thats it thats the tweet/hj. hes just so happy to have someone that loves him enough to be this vulnerable with him and he cant hold himself back from cumming he feels like hes gonna cum his pants whenever he sees ur pretty tits 😣

d=dirty secret: he wants to ask one of the guys (preferably wonbin or sohee bcs they wouldnt make fun of him) to have a threesome with you and him because he thinks ur too pretty to just have you to himself, he wants to see how good his members can fuck you

e=experience: he wasnt very experienced before you, you were probably his first or second, but you helped teach him how to touch you nice and good to make you finish

f=favorite position: probably just missionary, he loves being on top of you and seeing how tiny you are compared to him, also loves burrying his face into your neck. if he wanted to switch it up he'd probably let you ride him

g=goofy: probably 50/50 hes honestly too busy whimpering to be funny

h=hair: anton strikes me as the type to be basically fully shaved, he just doesnt like how the hair looks on him

i=intimacy: he doesnt strike me as the type to have fast/rough sex, sure if he has some like pent up anger he will fuck you but if its just a normal tuesday he likes to have slower sex, but if you asked him to be rougher he will oblige

j=jack off: anton was so scared to ask you for sex during your relationship, yall would be making out and he'd pop a boner and he'd excuse himself to the bathroom and rub one out (which was very apparent to you because the walls were thin and you could hear him moaning) but now that you guys actually have sex he doesnt really masterbate anymore, only if hes away from you for a long time

k=kink: he def has a size kink, watching how ur belly buldges when he bottoms out inside of you turns him on so so much he could just cum right then and there tbh

l=location: he just likes the bed, nothing crazy, sometimes the shower if you ask him to shower with you

m=motivation: bro gets turned on by everything and anything, the slightest touch to him hes on the verge of getting bricked. but its only for you, you make him feel such a special way the no one else could 🥰🥲

n=no: just anything thats hurting you, sure he might accidentally hurt you with his dick and being too eager but he always feels so bad. he could never hurt you on purpose 💔

o=oral: anton is a MUNCH and i stand by that, he LOVEEESSSS eating pussy so much. he gets sooo pussy drunk when hes between ur legs omg. when you first asked him to eat u out he was very skeptical, now he basically claws at ur pants to get them off so he can eat you nice and good like u deserve

p=pace: like i said earlier he enjoys slow sex a lot more then rough/fast sex. he will go fast/rough if you ask him to, he just probably wont last as long 😣

q=quickie: hes iffy on them, doesnt really enjoy them bcs he likes to take his time with you. but if you have limited time to have sex he will have one just wont be very happy abt it

r=risks: doesnt really take risks, he knows what works and he sticks to it

s=stamina: he does not have a very high stamina, can probably go for at the very most 3 rounds and even by then hes like dying

t=toys: you have a viberator that you've integrated into your sex and he has a cock ring 😵‍💫

u=unfair: he doesnt really tease, like ever. if anything you tease him more then he teases you

v=volume: oh hes a whimperer his sounds are so freaking pretty. whispering into your ear how good you make him feel and how pretty you are

w=wild card: he loves when you mark him up, leaving hickies on his neck, scratching his shoulders and back. he takes it like a trophy. whenever hes changing around the guys and they see the marks they always call them out and he just smiles like a dummy recalling the things he did the night before to recive said marks

x=xray: oh anton is packing, its like 7 1/2"-8" and like the perfect girth. he didnt realize how big he actually was until the two of you had sex for the first time and your jaw was basically on the floor from how big he was like how tf is that supposed to go into my vagina

y=yearing: 24/7 hes thinking of it, how good ur cunt is and how when he gets home he wants to make you feel so good and bury himself into ur cunt

z=zzz: he falls asleep so fast, he gets the tissues to clean you up, and then he gives you a few kisses and as soon as hes cuddling with you he passes out

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

please do not translate or steal my works! reblogs and likes always help!!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop x reader smut #anton smut #riize smut #anton x reader smut #anton riize #riize x reader smut

[sukunastoy]

NSFW ABCs (A-M) (Heian Era Ryoumen Sukuna)

An anon asked for this, and I'm not certain WHICH Sukuna they're hoping for, but I'll start with Heian Era True Form Sukuna! <3

CW/TW: Its true form Sukuna, thats the warning. Masterlist (N-Z Here!)

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex) Bold of you to assume that Sukuna is going to stick around after he's done making you go dumb from his dick(s). But if he did stick around, he's pushing you away from him (out of his bed, off of his throne), so he can have the space to himself. You can sleep on the floor where pets belong. No cuddles, no pillow talk, (maybe some degrading praise.) You're lucky if he even offers a rag to clean yourself up with. Cause lets be honest, he's going to make a mess out of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's) Definitely for him, its his chest. His big pecs (beefy man tiddies) are definitely something he's proud of. He either isn't wearing a top, or has it opened/rolled down. For his fuck toy, he loves your neck. Loves kissing it, biting it, licking it, squeezing it. Loves to mark your skin with his teeth, so you know who you belong to. And he enjoys leaving bruises where he's gripped so harshly.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) For one, prepare for the most cum you've ever had or will ever have in your life from this guy. If you're giving him oral, you will be required to take every last drop, can't let any of the King's seed be wasted. Swallow it up like a good pet. He loves to stuff you full of his cum in other places too, and he'll hold your legs and hips up in a way that nothing can spill out of you. (Consider it a form of the King's blessings. Don't waste it.) He's not going to cum onto your body, because he wants to be inside of you when he reaches his climax and wants to see your face when he fills your insides with his unforgiving amount.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) This man is pretty openly dirty, I mean, he's the King of Curses, who is going to say anything about one of his kinks? But, a secret in general, he really enjoys back/shoulder massages, doesn't even have to get sexual, it just feels amazing to him to work the knots out of his large muscles. Since he's so large anyway, you could walk on his back or even use your knees to massage in certain areas if your hands aren't strong enough. It's the only time you notice he's truly relaxed and not terrifying.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?) Forget everything you thought you knew about sex, because he's about to show you what you've been missing out on. Through taking advantage of villagers, receiving sacrifices/offerings in the form of humans for his pleasure, bringing maids/servants into his chambers because he's simply bored... he's had quite a lot of practice to perfect his skill. Though he generally takes care of his own pleasures, he's keen to what others enjoy, even if they deny it. And if you aren't even aware of something you might like, he'll gladly introduce it to you and get you addicted to it. (Loves to see your eyes roll to the back of your head when he's found the thing that makes you lose all control of yourself.)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) He will keep you pinned in the mating press, so he can fill you as much as possible, and to hit every sweet and sensitive part of your insides without mercy. Watching you hopelessly struggle beneath him as he's taking you in a very primal way, it really gets him off. (Plus his tummy mouth is in a wonderful position to provide extra unbearable pleasure.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He's definitely serious in the moment. When the king is ready to fuck you, you better be prepared. He won't be in the mood for playing around or being silly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Since it's the heian era, there aren't exactly many reasons to stay well groomed, nor is it probably practiced at all. You're going to get an au natural bush that definitely matches the drapes. Don't worry, his dick(s) are so large, they're not going to get lost in it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He's not romantic. You're there simply to be used by him. He enjoys watching you struggle and cry from how rough he is. You could be asleep, in the middle of a task or even eating, and he's going to take what he wants, when he wants it. The only reason he offers the slightest prep and foreplay is so he can push inside of you easier.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Sukuna isn't the type to jack off. That's what his fuck toys are for. If he's feeling particularly lazy, you'll use your body as a fleshlight and bounce on him while he lounges back. He's either enjoying a fine drink or smoking his kiseru while watching you work.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He's definitely into BDSM. In fact, the more terror you appear to be in, the hornier this man gets. He's going to hurt you, no doubt about it. You're going to get bit, choked, tied up and even whipped because he loves to hear you cry out in pain. Don't worry, even if he gets out of control and nearly takes your life, he can heal you right up so he can continue to enjoy himself with your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) In his throne, or on his bed. When Sukuna wants everyone to see how he treats his toy, he's going to be forcing you to ride his dick(s) while he's lounging in his throne. He might even hold conversation with some of his servants or village subordinates, but you're going to be falling apart as he uses his arms to keep moving you. When he wants you all for himself, he'll take you to his room and own your body again and again on his bed. A perfect place to tie you up if he wants. It's also easier for when he wants to go to sleep after, he's already in bed. All he has to do is push you out of it when he's finished with you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Anything can get this man going. If you've angered him or appear scared by him, he's going to take advantage of you in a sinister way. If you accidentally bend over in his presence, he's going to keep you bent over while he proceeds to fuck your brains out. When he goes to lay waste to villages, you're his prize when he returns. A personal little gift to himself after ending innocent lives.

|| Hope you enjoyed! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! ||

#sukuna jjk #sukuna smut #sukuna true form #abcs #naughty alphabet #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna

[onmyyan]

Marcos Delmont NSFW ABC'S

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Giggly and fucked out, he'll lick you clean before flopping down on top of you, likes to put his whole weight on you like a human blanket, once he catches his breath he's all over you, checking for any sore spots, kissing along the flesh with a certain tenderness.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Unashamedly proud of his dick, and fun fact, he's one of those rare men who actually knows how to take a good dick pic, on you however, he's very very fond of your tummy, big or small something about the soft, warm flesh there makes his brain go fuzzy, likes to bury his face in your stomach and just melt.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's a freak and loves to make a mess of you both, multiple rounds are the minimum around here which means more often than not you're both covered in his cum, prefers hitting it raw for many reasons but the number one is getting to see his cum drip off your perfect body like a claim over you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oh he's dirty but has no secrets when it comes to sex with you, he's open and willing to try anything once meaning he flaunts his freaky bits a lot, case and point, he loves to film you two, all different angles, likes to wink at the camera cuz he knows you two are gonna watch them someday.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Community Dick 🗣️🤚🏼

Nah I'm playing but he does have the most experience out of all the Delmonts, meaning this certified munch knows how to play your body like a guitar.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Whatever positions let him see that bulge in your tummy, don't get me wrong he looooves hitting it from the back, the way you arch into him, but getting to see himself inside of you, turns his brain off, likes to press his hand against the bulge to make you cry out.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's somewhat in the middle, its lighthearted but at the flip of a dime he can get real serious about your pleasure.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet does match the drapes, likes to shave designs into it, currently has a heart.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tries to be romantic, really he does but he's so nasty it comes off as lustful, although after he cums he's extremely clingy, needs that skin to skin more than oxygen, very romantic in that post haze.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Total fiend both before and after you, but can you blame him? Everything you do turns him on, you've caught him many times and he grins like it was his plan all along, likes to huff your panties while he does it, lots of moans of your name.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Crying kink, god he loves getting you so worked over you can't help but cry those pretty tears for him, teases you for crying like he wasn't just edging you for three hours, Filming also turns him on like nothing else, has dozens of files of you two,

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

If he can get it in he will, he has no shame and will pop a bitch in public if they had anything to say about it, loves you anywhere anytime but his favorite place to tear your guts up in is his secret little base he has to himself, has fucked you over every surface in the warehouse .

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The breeze could blow on his meat and suddenly he's calling you coming to wherever you are at the moment and begging on his hands and knees for pussy,

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Will never truly put you in harms way, he's kinky but if he feels like there's a real risk of danger it ain't happening

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

m.u.n.c.h he's fifty-fifty on preference but he adores going down on you, and makes it a game between himself to see just how often he can make you cum on just his tongue, very very skilled with that pinky muscle in his mouth, and when he adds his finger in the mix? you're done for.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough is your go-to, even if he tries to slow down he gets so lost in you, in the pleasure it ruins him, he controls the pace but you control him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Oh yeah, he's all about a quickie, anytime anyplace remember? loves to make you cum in this almost frantic giggly way, the thrill of doing it somewhere risky makes it all the more sweet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Very willing to try things out and experiment, he can't help his curiosity, how far he can push himself in the name of your pleasure, how far he can push you, it's all very addictive.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

4-6 each round lasts a minimum of an hour and he won't stop till you've came.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He will use toys occasionally but it gets to his head and he'll start competing with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This mother fucker is an absolute monster when it comes to teasing you, he will go on for hours nipping, sucking, and loving on you, there's no end in sight, even when you're in tears blubbering about nothing, he won't stop.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very loud, he's a moaner and a curser, lots of grunts of your name and chuckles of disbelief, he can't believe how good you feel, how right it is to be inside of you, lots of whining towards the end.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Will cum on the spot if you spit in his mouth

7.3 inches

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH Lord have mercy he needs it all the time will be on his hands and knees if it meant a crumb of poonani

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not quickly, he gets more energetic than anything, ready for more rounds or to play some overwatch with you between his legs

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #delmont brothers #marco delmont #marcos delmont x reader #yandere oc marcos #marcos x reader

[hero-israel]

Let me tell you being a former Christian this shit goes so much deeper than a lot of born Jews realize. The Christian worldview (specifically Calvinist/Puritan) seeping into and pervading all of modern leftism is honestly frightening. But also it's very funny.

They believe that there are Good people and Bad people, and that any mistake or lapse in judgment or instance of not being educated is a Mask Off moment, showing who is a member of the Elect and who is not. If you fuck up, that's not just a fuck up, it's Revealing. You are damned, were always damned, you were just good at hiding it, and now we know the truth and are doubly angry because not only are you evil, you lied about it. The only recourse is to shun you, and if that leads to your death, so be it. Anyone who's seen any micro celebrity get canceled saw this in action.

And the only way you can prove you're a member of the Elect is to operate as if you have nothing to hide. You have to loudly and proudly proclaim your righteousness. If you don't have anything to hide why would you be worried? Privacy is suspicious. You Must Speak on everything they deem important or else you obviously agree with the Bad People. There is no room for discussion or healthy debate. There are no loopholes or subclauses or other points of view to consider. You're with us or against us. If you don't constantly go around saying you're with us, you're probably secretly against us. The only way to convince your neighbors, whom you inherently distrust, that you're one of the Good Ones, is to perform righteousness, parrot righteous words. The only way to redeem yourself is by grandiose acts of self flagellation, perhaps being the right demographic, or by accusing others of Heresy.

The goal is not to bring good into the world, it's to recruit more people into the same thought patterns (that's kind of all Christian denominations though). Because if you can convince your community that you're one of the Elect, that means G-d preselected you for Heaven, and you're golden. No repercussions or consequences baby. The only material benefit for you is that you "get" to proclaim you're going to Heaven and everyone has to agree with you. If anyone doesn't they're probably going to Hell anyway. You're on the right side (of history), so why should you ever self reflect or grow? Why should you question anything? Why should nuance or empathy exist? This is about Right and Wrong. We know where we stand, where do you stand?

Every single aspect of American culture and politics, right and "left" alike, was planted by the pilgrims, and it is so fundamentally antithetical to true Leftist thought. Remember all the actually successful Western Leftist movements were started in Europe (and Israel cough cough)... because they kicked all their fucking psychotic Calvinists out. Those people went to America and that's a big big big reason why we don't have any near as much of a robust Leftist movement as even socially conservative European countries (and Israel cough cough). And what's funny is I still find myself slipping into these thought patterns, which is so not compatible with Jewish philosophy or theology. It's been years and I'm still not done.

It's a hell of a drug to kick, so I definitely don't trust white goysiche college kids who've been antitheists for about 6 months since they left their Republican parents' homes to have any great success in unlearning and unprogramming from this. Which is kind of obvious in that I see them acting just like their conservative Christian parents every day on every social media platform, swap out a gun toting white Jesus with some noble savage idea of Palestine, absolving the West of its sins against the Global South.

It is a cult structured around spiritual isolation, antisocial behavior, and it is inherently against any kind of political movement that centers and celebrates the Community. It is designed to tear communities apart and foster obedience to whatever authority can force itself on them. And this has been going on for almost 500 years, there is nothing we can do about it.

Thank you for the insightful look. Their "purity culture" approach definitely had to come from somewhere.

#Leftist antisemitism #Christian antisemitism

[jlepixie]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ I'll never get used to being alive. it's a mystery ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

╰ ୨ Bill nsfw alphabet ୧ ╯ 

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Bill definitely would wipe you off and clean you up while whispering in your ear about how good you did and how much he loves you, but we have to accept that he would take a short nap after that, he did said he is a lazy person.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

He adores his hands because he knows how much pleasure can give you with only that. By chocking you, pulling you closer, fingering you or holding your hand, he loves the size difference.

When it comes to you, I would say he loves your waist because can pull you closer to him by it, and if its squishy its better, he rests his hands on it when you ride it and you definitely have some marks on it by how hard he is squeezing it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

He knows that wearing a condom is the best thing he can do, although he dreams a lot of cumming deeply inside you. And another place would be when he pulls off he likes to see it on your stomach.

D = Dirty secret (self explanatory, a secret of theirs)

He loves the idea of having a quickie in a public space. Finding a risky place to fuck, probably a bathroom or even the couch under the stage after performing. Keeping you quiet, or seeing how quickly he can make you cum. ("be silent now, we don't want the others to hear you now, do we love?")

E = Experience (how experienced are they)

Bill is a star, and that means he had many sexual partners, but with you it would be different because he knows you are his truly love. We all know that he is shy and timid. He always asks how you feel, and if he’s doing good, sometimes he’s so worried about making sure you cum that he doesn’t, he’s very giving when it comes to sex.

F = Favorite position

Cowgirl. the feeling that he can still dominate you even if you’re on top, whispering dirty words in your ear and even controlling the pace with his hands on your hips.

G = Goofy (are they more serious or goofy at the moment?)

He would stay serious most of the time. He keeps the playfulness for aftercare. But when he drinks he gets a little goofy during it, manifesting it by showering you with silly compliments. For him sex is something serious but tries to keep the air light and fun by admiring you. When you two have quickies, the atmosphere is very different, is full of laughs, trying to fit in the small bathrooms, closets and joking about getting caught.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they)

Bill doesn't fully shaves, mostly just trims it. but he likes to keeps it in a small area, you wouldn't see hair on his abdomen or chest.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment?)

We all know Bill is a romantic! He showers you with compliments, taking his sweet time with foreplay, his full attention is on you, no matter how tired he is. He wants to show you how much he admires and adores you. He is so deeply in love with you, that he even takes his time to learn everything you like and don't. Bill is really affectionate and needy, wanting to please you and show his gratitude anytime.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

The first time he thought of you while masturbating was before you two were even together, and when you popped on his mind he got surprised and guilty. Even after getting together it didn't felt right but with all his tours around the world, and your help by sending pics and having calls, your body and sweet mind is all he can think of.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink would be a main, but also seeing the marks he leaves on you. Sex with Bill would be filled with compliments and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. He loves leaving marks on you and admiring them during the day would make him hornier.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

The bathroom or changing room under the stage is making his mind going crazy while you two do it there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sex after every concert. He still has that adrenaline in him after it and he can't wait to get to you. But when he doesn't have a concert his motivation would be you. he can't take his mind off you, every time he sees you, wearing anything, he just wants to take you there. His hands have to be on you 24/7

N = No (something they wouldn’t do)

Bill would definitely want to try everything with you. But of course he wouldn't put your life at risk.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

He wouldn't be into receiving it too much, maybe just once in while. Bill loves going down on you multiple times. He knows exactly what he is doing and would make sure you cum more than once.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He is a slow lover, he wants to enjoy every moment of it, to take his time to admire and feel you. Bill is the type of guy that would stay and kiss every part of your body and stop every time to give a compliment and tell you how much he adores you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often)

Quickies happen a lot, especially after a concert. But he would make sure to give you extra attention when it gets in a more private place.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks)

yes! there’s a lot of ways to make you pleased and Bill wants to learn them all.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

He did said he is a lazy person but he does have a lot of stamina especially because he practice a lot for their concerts. He does love when you are on his lap riding it so it does takes longer for him and you would be the first one to tap out.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them?)

He likes the traditional way more but he would use toys to tease you and probably on an event you both participate he would leave a toy there to see how needy you get.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing but not as much as giving you the pleasure you deserve. But be sure on events, interviews, concerts, hang outs with others, he is the master of teasing just to get you more needy for him when you get to a room.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He loves loud girls, that's for sure. Bill loves hearing how much he pleasures you. He is not a as loud, his shy personality wouldn't let him, he more whimpers but be sure he would get out some moans here and there.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Fucking in the mirror! He loves watching the side view of himself towering above you, thrusting into you slowly, your eyes watching him as well.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

This man is 1,92cm. Be sure he is packing down there too. He is back every where.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's definitely very high. Being away from you is the hardest thing. He is always thinking of your body, and not only.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Quickly, because he feels really safe around you. he makes sure that you fall asleep first tho, playing with your hair and whispering sweet things to make you even more sleepy.

© 2023 jlepixie.  ─  please do not copy,  repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission. 

#ε(♡’ᗜ’)з﹗! — julie.writes #୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅(bill kaulitz)♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ #ଘ(∩^o^)⊃(tokio hotel) ━☆゜ #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz picture #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz headcannon #bill kaulitz being sexy as hell #bill kaulitz edit #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz gif #bill kaulitz icons #bill kaulitz imagines #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel edits #tokio hotel icons #tokio hotel imagine

[melinoelliones]

BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK 

Say hello to my husband <3 I was tryna wait till October to do Black Butler shit but now I gotta.... 

Reminder, how I interpret these characters may be different to how YOU interpret them, don’t jump me if you dislike what I say. X fem and X gn reader

This is more on the Undertaker before his ass takes off the hat side, so the jokey cheeky Undertaker. ALSO MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE LETTER W!! 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s probably giggling to himself and mocking the noises and phrases you said during sex LMAOOOOO. Really tho he’ll defo pull the blankets over you and feed you one of them dog bone biscuits, kisses in abundance, nothing too crazy as he will probably leave while you sleep do to fuck knows what.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves our whole body, he examines it like crazy and he says it’s so “he can fit us for a coffin one day”...... I feel like he loves our throat though 100%

On him, he loves his hands and he takes VERY good care of them, fresh set n everything we all saw that shit

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Enjoys doing it on your entire front, all of it, top to bottom

Also loves it down your throat, you can never take it all at once so watching it trickle down the corners of your mouth alongside your spit and tears is everything to him

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Enjoys doing stuff while he has customers present, if you make a noise or people get suspicious he’ll laugh or do something stupid to get people off it

He has shamelessly got off to the thought of you, maybe even your underwear

He begs and he enjoys doing it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is quite experienced I’ll be honest

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Riding in all ways possible, he wants you on him, grinding up against him whilst he helps you. Watching your needy face try to take everything in has him grinning like a crazy man

Missionary where your legs are over your head pretty much. You pushing his hair to the side as he’s panting and whimpering slightly, you know he’s close but he won’t stop

Any position where you are half hanging out a coffin, kinda like stuck in a wall but your stuck half out a coffin? He probably made a custom one JUST for this. Hearing your moans echo off the walls of the coffin keeps him going.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very goofy, keeps the jokes going THROUGHOUT

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s pretty wild down there imma be real

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is always making jokes and sometimes being cocky but he’ll always show an intimate side straight after

“F~Fuck just like that, please please keep going” he’d choke out laughing, mocking what you had just moaned out. “Don’t give me that face, I want to hear more of it” he’d laugh once more at your pout, pulling you into a kiss whilst pushing deeper into you.

Sum like that

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A lot and he has NO shame in it. It’s pretty shocking how often he can do it. Sometimes he’ll stay pent up just to get off when he knows you’re coming home as he knows you love when he’s a whimpering n babbling mess, maybe you’ll even decide to help him out?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Blindfolds, he loves to mess with ALL of your senses while you can’t see

Knife kink and blood but its SUBTLE. You may or may not have seen him store away a bit of your blood though, wonder what he’s saving that for…..

Restraints, wants to tie you up around his shop

Toys for both of you, watching you desperately cry out to cum as he keeps turning off the vibe

Choking, he enjoys doing it while thrusting into you with full force, hearing you choke out moans and mumbles while he tightens his grip

Dacryphilia for sureeee, would examine your face and wipe your tears while fucking into you with no remorse. Even lets out a giggle or two while at it 

“Well would you look at that, you’re crying my dear, such a pretty specimen indeed. Cmon you can hold out for me, just a bit longer and i’ll make you feel so so good”

Not sure if its a kink but pussy eating. He will sit there for as long as he can just eating you out till you're completely numb from the waist down. 

"You haven't used your safeword yet you've cum 4 times in a row, is it too much for you yet hehe? Cmon, let me wipe those tears, you're too pretty to cry. Now how about I make it 6 times, or even 10 AHA, can you take all that my sweet sweet doll? Let's see shall we?" he'd smirk whilst shoving a couple digits into your already sopping core, tongue already making its way to your swollen clit. He would go on all night long if he could.

L = Location (favourite places to do they do)

Every corner of his store, if you can see it, you've done it there. Favourite would probably be on his desk though.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

YOU! JUST YOU! You are something he’s never seen before and the way you make him feel is unmatched.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Anything outside the shop or on ONE specific coffin.... Whats in there?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a munch, yes I said it

Begs to have you on his face, even if that beg is in riddles or him twisting the narrative

“Hehe cmon, you know you want to, have a seat my dear, it's all yours”

“I want to taste you just once more, cmon don’t be shy, I won’t bite, unless you want me to hehe” 

He also loves receiving too though, you under his gown, even when customers are in and he’ll be giggling while starting to fuck your face on the other side of the desk

“Aha, look at you, you did brilliantly. You barely made a peep whilst they were here, such a special specimen indeed” he’d coo, pulling back his cloak to ease you off his cock, your tears mixed with his release rolling down your lower face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s cheeky as fuck. Would start slow, then speed up to a perfect pace then as you are close slow all the way back down, to the point where it's technically edging and you can’t even get off. I can hear him giggling now 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He says “Come on my love, we can make it quick” then ya’ll are at it for an hour. Ultimate LIAR. It gets boring in his shop so ya’ll still do it often anyway 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hell yeah but he knows you will never get caught. Just for entertainment you defo tried to get caught but he covered it up swiftly

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a hot minute, like 5+ rounds. With his personality people could think otherwise but absolutely not.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A sucker for a toy. He defo made a pocket pussy using YOURS, so when you aren’t with him he has a replica but he knows it's not exactly the same. Also has a vibe, he has sensitive nipples and we take FULL advantage of that

He loves to use toys on you too though, watching how they make your body react is quite fascinating. He can tell the difference between fake and his real thing though and he adores it, your needy face begging for the real thing is everything. Only he can make you feel certain ways

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Too much, but the orgasms he makes you reach after are always worth it

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When he’s seriously into it he only grunts and dirty talks, otherwise it's the opposite, whimpering and cursing under his breath

“How does that feel my dear? You like it deep don’t you”

“Your body takes it so well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep g~going much longer”

“Listen to yourself, all this dirty talk from such a sweet specimen?”

“A girl like you should be walking the streets of Soho, yet here you are taking the cock of an Undertaker. How did I get so lucky to have the dirtiest of them all stroll through my doors?”

“Aha, keep going love, i’m not finished just yet”

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

Would consider making you into a puppet when you die and keeping you for…. Personal reasons

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dude is pretty big so imma say 8/9 inches, more on the slenderish side but veiny

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Unusually high

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn’t, he’ll pretend to but go off once you’re asleep. Dudes got things….. to do.......

#the undertaker #undertaker #undertaker x reader #undertaker x you #undertaker x reader smut #undertaker x you smut #black butler #black butler smut #black butler x you #black butler x y/n #black butler x female reader #black butler x reader #black butler x reader smut #black butler x you smut #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader smut #undertaker black butler #undertaker black butler smut #the undertaker black butler #meli noel work's

[miicycle]

The Kung Fu Panda Movies have always had Mr. Ping give the moral of the story, and I think about that a lot. Yes, Po is usually out fighting bad guys when realizing where he should be mentally and skillfully, on his own when he gets the point of teachings. Ping is such an important person in Po's life, just as much as Shifu is needed to help Po learn Kung Fu.

Way more under the cut!!!

Kung Fu Panda 1: "You are almost ready to be entrusted with the secret ingredient of my secret ingredient soup. And then you will fulfill your destiny and take over the restaurant [...]" - Ping

"Secret Ingredient of my secret ingredient soup" being an allegory for Dragon scroll and "destiny" being Po becoming the Dragon warrior and "take over the restaurant" as being Oogway's successor.

Then it turns out the scroll is blank. And Ping feels its a good place to tell Po about the secret ingredient. NOTHING. For something to be special, you just have to BELIEVE it's special.

So Po, not needing any secret scroll or any cool powerup, wins against Tai Lung by believeing in himself.

Ping made him believe in himself. And when Po fulfills his destiny of defeating Tai Lung, he's PROUD!

Kung Fu Panda 2: "Po, your life may not have such a happy beginning, but look at how it turned out! You got me, you got kung fu! And you got noodles!" - Ping (and almsot identical quote said by Soothsayer)

And

Po: "I gotta go. I'm the Dragon Warrior, it's kinda my job to save Kung Fu. And if I don't, what am I?"

Ping: "You're my son! ... Right?"

The message is pretty clearcut, but it's repeated very heavily in the movie. Mr Ping may not be his father, but he is his dad. No matter where he came from, Po is Mr Pings son through and through and he very much loves him.

The scene where Po has been knocked into a river and saved by the Soothsayer, she says the same thing that Ping does. He didn't have a happy beginning, but what matters is who he is, and what he chooses to do now.

And the montage plays everything hes done up until now, but also empathizes the moments between Ping and Po. The last thing he sees in his mind is Ping being a dad, because he is Po's dad! Whatever happened before doesn't have bearing for who Po chooses to be. So when he chooses to be the son of a goose and the Dragon Warrior, nothing he finds out can change that.

Because Dragon Warrior or not, Po is Ping's son! Right?

Kung Fu Panda 3: "He's hurt. He's confused. And he still has to save the World! He needs both his dads." - Ping

"I realized that having you in his life doesn't mean less for me. It means more for Po." - Ping

And

"I'm not trying to turn you into me. I'm trying to turn you into you!" - Shifu

(Love how often Shifu and Ping mirror each other's roles btw they're both so important)

So these are a little less on the nose, but again super important. No matter what Po is going through, he still has to fulfill his destiny, and giving him support while he does so is the best they can do. Ping was initially worried of Li Shan stealing Po away, but realizes that bonding with his biological father doesn't take him away from Ping, just more love and support for Po.

But also, Po learning that he doesn't have to change drastically to reach his true potential. When Ping and Li Shan stand on the small platform and tell Po that they can help, along with all other pandas, Po has the realization that he can't turn them into him, just as Shifu can't turn him into Shifu, or Li Shan can't turn him into a typical panda.

Ping doesn't say a direct quote to mirror Shifu's, but he did initiate talking to Li Shan after Po and Li Shan had the liar reveal. Li never had the experience of having an arguement with his child, but Ping obviously does. So he takes it upon himself to keep being the rock that Po can lean on by talking to Li Shan and helping him realize that they have to be there for Po, no matter what happens.

Because again. Po is hurt. Po is confused. But he still has to save the world. He needs both his dads.

I love Ping so much for being a good dad in this way. He really plays well as a support character and is such a good parent. Yeah, Po may not fit the mold the way Ping expected (taking over the noodle shop etc) but hes still so proud!!!

#kung fu panda #kung fu panda 2 #kung fu panda 3 #kung fu panda trilogy #kfp #kfp2 #kfp3 #kfp po #kfp ping #kfp li shan #Long post #text post #mii talks #kfp character study i guess #kung fu panda character talk #mr ping

[luimagines]

Can I request the chains or readers reaction to a massage please??

Sure thing! I had a debate on whether this should be scenario of headcanon, but I figured since I've mentioned this in headcanons before, I'll write it out. :D

Masterlist

Part 1 will include Twilight, Wild and Four.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

You watched as Twilight hauled another heavy pack onto Epona. You saw him wince and rub his neck, trying to get to his upper back.

Your heart ached for him at the sight. He looked pained but kept it silent.

You stood up and walked over to him with a frown on your face. You wanted to count your lucky stars that it was morning so he wasn't wearing his armor or layers. Then again- that didn't really help him now, did it? The day has literally just started and he's already in pain? Unacceptable.

You put a hand on his shoulder. He jumps at the contact, not having heard you coming. He relaxes when he sees you and smiles, putting his hand down as if everything is fine. "Good morning. Did you need something?"

"Are you ok?" You say quietly, not wanting to attract any attention to yourselves. "That looked like it hurt."

Twilight pauses and flushes slightly. "N-no, that's not it. I think I pulled something in my sleep. Nothing too bad, I just-"

"Do you want help with that?" You offer. Because really, it would be hard for him to move if he's got a muscle locked up. If you were attacked later today it would be worse for him. You can't even begin to imagine what would happen to him in that state if he was Wolfie. You don't want to think about it.

Twilight flushes a dark color. "...H..How?"

You also begin to blush but move behind him. "Don't make it weird. How else am I going to do it?"

You press your thumbs into his back and begin to knead behind his shoulder blade. You can actually feel the knot behind it. Poor Twilight. It must really hurt.

Twilight lets out a choked sound as the other half of him tenses up. You run your hand over the spot again and he strangles a moan to stay where it belongs.

You giggle and keep at it. Twilight has to fight to keep the sounds at bay. You poke his ear from behind with your free hand. "Feel good?"

"Yes, thank you." He says quietly, horrified but what he just did. "It feels a lot better."

"Good."

Wild

"Oh for the love of-!" Wild nearly curses, dropping the arrow he had knocked onto his bow.

Your attention snaps to him in an instant. "Everything good?"

Wild doesn't hear you. He doesn't even bother to pick up his arrow. His attention is solely on his forearm. Wild presses harshly onto a spot and makes a pained face.

You stand up and make your way over to him. "Pull something?"

"I don't know how." He hisses, running his thumb along the length of his forearm. He struggles for a moment but takes off his layers in frustration, throwing them to the ground non to gently.

"Easy." You take his hand and pull his arm towards you. "No need to get upset. Does it hurt that bad?"

You press your fingers along the side of the spot he was paying attention to, ease the area softly.

Wild winces but lets you do as you please. His other hand lands on his hip. "I don't know how I did it. I just woke up and it hurt to move."

"I don't remember you doing anything yesterday that would have caused this." You say softly, trying to diffuse his energy.

Wild flinches when you pass over the sore spot once more. You begin to move up his arm, going as high as his shirt will allow. Wild bites at his lip, but eventually his other hand drops as well. He takes a breath and his shoulders sag. "...Its been a few days actually."

You pause and give him a deadpanned look.

He flinch, but not from your touch. "I know, I know. I thought it would go away but it only got worse. Now I can't even shoot my bow straight."

"What on earth am I going to do with you?" You shake your head and click your tongue. You don't say anything else, opting to keep massaging his forearm, eventually moving to his bicep to help ease the tension in his arm.

Wild also falls silent, letting you work for a while. He doesn't fight you, he doesn't try to stop you. Neither of you know why you simply started doing this, but you don't feel like stopping and it's helping Wild more than he wants to admit.

Eventually you stop, moving his sleeve down and patting his shoulder. You're done. "Feel better?"

"Yes." He whispers, bending to pick up the gauntlets he had thrown down earlier. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Four

Four rolled his shoulders for what to be the nth time this hour. He winces and pulled his arms back. Sure it puffed up his chest but you were certain that wasn't his actual intention.

You walked over to him and poked his arm, sitting next to him. "You've done that like ten times already. Everything alright?"

Four winces and shakes his head. "I think I pulled something earlier today. But for the life of me, I can't figure out what I did. It just hurts."

"Do you want help with that?" You offer, sitting beside him. "Does this happen often?"

Four shakes his head again. "I'm pretty good at keeping up with my stretches and forge work doesn't leave much to be desired when I have to switch over to the whole hero thing- which leaves me only more confused."

"Maybe you slept wrong?"

"Maybe." Four rolls his shoulders again. "Man, this sucks. What on earth did I do?"

"Let me help." You poke his arm again. "Turn around."

"I don't see how you're going to help me. There's only so much you can do." Four does as you say anything, not thinking twice about it.

You put your hands on his shoulders and begin to knead. Gently at first. Four hisses and you can see him flinch from behind but he doesn't voice any complaints. "If I'm too rough, you have to tell me ok?

"I doubt you would even be able to- mmm!!" Four hisses again and you can feel him arch with the way you press your thumb behind his shoulder blade. "There. You found it. Right there."

You chuckle and focus on putting the nerves and muscles back into place. "You were saying?"

Four tilts his head. "What was I say? I already forgot."

"Then don't expect me to remind you." You grin, happy that he's finding some relief after all this time.

"That is.. perfectly fine by me." Four sighs, relaxing under your touch. "You're pretty good at this."

"Thank you." You keep at it a little while longer before you pull back and pat his shoulder. "Did that help?"

"Tremendously."

"Great!"

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #these might be a bit shorter than all the others though #i hope that's ok #otherwise i'd fear that it would be get a bit repetitive

[keshetchai]

I originally wrote this back in 2019 in response to someone saying:

So, let me get this straight... the entire religion (of Judaism) is built around legal loopholes? Is that what I’m gathering here? (Feel free to correct me!)

And it remains relevant to people (gentiles) who characterize Judaism as rules lawyering or all about loopholes or worse, who imply we are trying to be "sneaky" or "pull one over on God."

My answer:

the religion is built around living in an ethical society per our contract (covenant) with G-d. but you can’t just have a bunch of words without putting them to use, & understanding them in practice, you know? the fulfillment of the covenant is a living discussion.

it’s not legal loopholes, because a loophole is often an inadequacy in the law that gets taken advantage of, but these are all built-in, part of our understanding. In this case, we have a contract (covenant), and we’re going to put it to use in every way possible, explore every inch of it, turn it inside out, and apply it to real life examples, define the parameters, argue those definitions, and then survey the conclusions.

I can say “you need to say the evening shema (a prayer) in the evening” but we can’t just say that, we need to explore a bunch of related things, like:

when in the evening does this happen? is there a difference between twilight and evening? if we say the evening prayer can be said from the time the priests partake of teruma, then when is that? if it’s the first watch of the evening, how many watches are there? if you were out all night for a wedding, but it’s not yet dawn, is it too late to recite the evening prayer? — IN SEVERAL THOUSAND YEARS, KE$HA WILL WRITE TIK TOK, AND WE’LL NEED TO KNOW WHAT TO DO IN CASE OF PARTYING UNTIL YOU SEE SUNLIGHT!

— when do they (the priests) ritually bathe in preparation for this [taking of teruma]? what about when poor people who cannot afford extra candles - do we consider how early they eat an evening meal in order to make sure they can afford the light [when we define evening]?

why did we discuss evening prayer before morning prayer? why does torah give us night before day? when is bedtime for most people? can we say the evening prayer until dawn? if yes, people might put off the prayer until dawn, which could lead to laziness or mistakes. a

lso, when is dawn? but more prudently at the moment, when is evening? evening is when the stars are visible, but...how many stars? also, if you are lying alone in a dark house and can’t see the sky, how do you determine if it is too early or too late for your evening shema?

and that whole discussion is from the beginning of the Talmud, in its hyper-condensed form. That is what we do.

It’s not a series of loopholes and ways to weasel out of doing something. It's an intentional exploration of how something is done right, what doing it means, how we can accomplish it.

nothing gets taken for granted, everything is questioned, debated, discussed until it is understood enough to be applicable. and there may be lots of ways to understand.

if someone sees this line of thinking and goes “ah, loopholes to get out of it/wiggle away from it,” then you are mistaking lacework for loopholes.

....and if Kesha sees sunlight, it is now too late for her to say her bedtime shema. she should recite morning shema instead.

[keline11]

Missa and Tallulah day <tres

(A very loooooooooooong post)

Missa first day in the new island.

Missa: "Tallulah! little one! How are you? It's good to see you, mi niña. It's so ^nice that the first thing I see is you."

(^He said "lindo" that also means pretty <tres)

(Everytime tallulah's dads call her "mi niña" I melt <tres)

After Missa watched the new money sistem(?

Tallulah: "Don't worry apa, chayanne, papa phil and me are really poor"

Bbh was telling missa the places he could live in.

Tallulah: "In my house we also made you a little space apa :D"

Missa: "Thank you bbh but it seems like tallulah has a little space for me on her house so probably I'll be near to her"

Tallulah: "Well duh you're my apa :D of course we have a place for you"

Missa: "Thank you so much tallulah"

Bbh give him some iron and diamond.

Tallulah: "Apa you are already richer than papa phil, chayanne and me together"

Missa: "No no no this is ours, I'm not even going to use it, we're going to give this to philza so he can make better use of it than me, because I'm going to waste it I'm sure."

My boy was getting distracted colecting flowers for the house. <tres

He got jumpscared by a sheep.

Tallulah: "I'll protect you apa :D it doesn't matter if is a zombie or a sheep"

Missa: "Thank you so much tallulah, *To chat* my children, my dear children are going to be there to defend me, when I'm old, all wrinkled and old I won't be afaird of they taking me to a nursing home, because my little eggs are going to take me to eat ground vegetables.."

Chat: Skeletons grow old?

MIssa: "No, but those are details, I can pretend ok? I can pretend that I am an old man"

Tallulah: "That's the house of uncle cellbit, he is our neighbor"

Missa: *to chat* "I don't know, I was waiting for something more terrifying, look it has the hair dyed like an e-girl, you know?...wait Late?" (Late is a streamer that has his hair like that, half red half dark)

Tallulah: "welcome home :D"

Missa: "this place is beautiful"

Missa:*sees chayanne* "chayanne, my son"

Tallulah: "we are poor but our house is perfect for 4four"

Missa: "It's really beautiful, we don't need money when we have each other"

Tallulah: "this is your bed"

Missa: *gasp* "it's perfect, it has memory foam, it's like that ones that you can put an egg on the side- literaly! the kind where you put an egg on the side and nothing happens to it (to the egg)"

They went to get materials to do a painting, and they were attack by a skeleton and a zombie.

Tallulah: "are you ok?"

Missa: "I am- are YOU ok? you have arrows everywhere! you look like a porcupine!"

Tallulah: "I am really strong"

Missa: "Oh! I can see that! perfect! you are prepared for everything"

Let's look at the glow up of that drawing.

They showed their drawings. (I just remembered that day were missa and chayanne also draw something for philza...pipipippipi)

Tallulah: *about missa's* "It's so good"

Missa: *about tallulah's* "Its beautiful"

They went to the museum, tallulah explained when the atm was bugged and they could get infinite money.

Missa: "Tallulah I am going to tell you a story I used to be in a team, of people really talented and nice, they teach me to play, I didn't learn much, but that team was called "Vacio Legal", they were the best, they were what formed who I am, a disaster"

Tallulah: "Did you also steal money?"

Missa: "No, not necessary, but let's say that we were on the edge of the law. those were good times."

Tallulah: "Later you tell me about them"

Missa: "Sure, sure, there are a lot of stories I could tell you about them"

Tallulah gaslighting missa.

Tallulah: "apa you are giant, you didn't know that? :o"

Missa explained the context that he knew, the reference of the picture, but chat told im that there were 2 contexts so he say to not tell him, because metagaming.

Tallulah: "It's just that you are giant"

Missa: "...There is something hiden that I am not understanding, philza and I have the same high, I think"

Missa: "look at him(maximus) I would also marry, kiss and kill, at the same time- no just kidding, it's not true you didn't heard that, it's a joke tallulah! IT'S A JOKE!!!

Tallulah: "a poco si tilin" (really?...)

Missa: *Laughing* It's not true, it's not true, maximus is my friend, my bro... Everything romantic and nice that they have said has already gone to shit." (I don't know of who he was talking)

Talllulah: "yyyyyy I am going to tell my papa"

Missa: "DON'T TELL HIM! TALLULAH, IT'S NOT TRUE, IT WAS A JOKE, JOKE! BAZINGA! No! ok"

Outside the museum, missa got hiccups.

Missa: "Tallulah did you know, fun fact about Missa Sinfonia: I have hiccups 90% of the time"

Tallula: "apa missa's lore :o"

Mobs attacking again.

Missa: "Tallulah, are you ok?" *tallulah says yes* "It's because you are really strong, you endure everything!"

Missa: *almost dying* "Tallulah i want to let you know that I always love you"*he doesn't die*"oh"

Missa: "BIRD... noo, tallulah can we take another one? i don't want to bother him"

More mobs attack.

Missa: "let's go home tallulah, I don't want to be here anymore tallulah, lets go home... no, no, no, why it sounds like you are dying? why? are you ok?"

Missa: *down at two hits* tell me you are not gonna die, please, please, you are not gona die, right?"

Missa: *now ok* "tallulah you are really strong and a good fighter, you are awesome"

At home

Tallulah: "Apa I have a gift for you before you go *gives him a Aster flower* I grabbed it because even though you are a skeleton, you are a sun/sunny with everyone and you shine a lot."

Missa: *Cries* Look tallulah, in the way here I was collecting flowers, but then I notice that all our house was packed with flowers, so it's one flower among many... this family is like a flower, there are many and many types but this one is the most beautiful"

Tallulah: "But this ones are yours so they are more beautiful"

Missa: *Crying* "tallullah I love you so much... I want the day I die, to be buried with these flowers... I can't die I am a skeleton, but I can bury myself the day I want and it is valid"

Tallulah: "JASADASJDSJ Don't say those things... You are not going to die :("

Missa: "No, don't worry, just like you I am inmortal, we are inmortals"

Tallulah: "Good nigth apa :D I liked seeing you and spending time with you <3 love you, see you soon :D"

Missa: "I love you too tallulah, see you soon then, my daughter, rest well and have sweet dreams"

END (8

#qsmp #qsmp death family #death family #qsmp tallulah #tallulah #qsmp missa #missa #i miss missa

[miyaur]

pairings. blade x gn!reader

synopsis. nsfw alphabet w blade gg ez, a-n only becuz im l-l-lazy....

a - aftercare (what are they like after the deed?)

blud lowkey don't give a shit about you if you aren't that close, lmao

but if you are, probably kind of clingy, and really caring. a lot of cuddling, don't tell me i'm wrong cuz i'm NOT.

in some cases, and instances, those.. 'activities' you both have do make him quite exhausted, and most of the time it really just ends with him showering you, cleaning you up, and just being in his embrace (more utc.)

b - body part (their fave body part, of themselves, and their partner's!)

probably for himself; would be his hands. just in general, plus he knows how well they treat you anyway! so why wouldn't it be his favorite? and for you, probably loves everything, doesn't know what he'd do without it, can't decide on one sole favorite, maybe your stomach and probably your neck!

c - cum (cum, anything to do with it)

will cum on your face, if not, he'll come inside, nothing in between.

i dont know how to elaborate here but um, the way his cum be sprayed all over ur face is just so mmmm to him. makes him hard all over again!

d - dirty secret (self explanatory)

not rly dirty, but wants to see you get a necklace with his name on it, or a collar with his name on it, and while he pounds so recklessly, he wants to see that pretty little pendant of his bouncing up and down on your neck, very fond of the idea, but never would actually say it to you, unless you really push him enough.

e - experience (has bro done the deed before?)

maybe? not that experienced probably, but has messed around with somebody before yes!

he knows what he's doing though, don't worry. but overall probably just did it once or twice, barely can call it sex

he probably read about sex before doing it with you, cause he wanted it to go perfectly.

f - favorite position (self explanatory pt2)

just as long as he can see your face, missionary, cowgirl, let it be anything, just as long as he can see how your face just gets so corrupted because of his big cock.

g - goofy (is bro serious about sex?)

very serious, it's almost funny, but it isn't, he's dedicated, and will show it.

but maybe when you both get closer, and are able to be more intimate with each other, in relationship wise, and etc., sure he'll laugh once or twice about a mistake he's done.

h - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

um, yes and no?? i don't really know, i can't rly tell, like maybe thrice a week sure, and the rest of the week he don't really care, it gets messy when you both fuck anyways. and yes, black hair, thats it, idk how to elaborate ab this LMAO

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

gets too embarassed. no he will not show his blushing face, even if he's already inside, probably takes like, a round or two before he does

kind of like, he'd giggle about it and go okay bae

but also would be the kind of guy to go, "i want to be the only man, the only person, in this whole galaxy, this whole universe, to make you feel like this."

j - jack off (master bait :D)

yes, very often, no other choice, i cant say otherwise. likes to imagine its you on that monster ahh cock instead of his hand, be real, he the type to do that. uses imagination wisely, and does it when you're away from him, on a mission, or whatever, needs you 24/7 tho

k - kink/s

degrading you like it's his life's purpose. loves you like it's the calm life he's been looking for since forever, but will degrade you, calls you slut, whore, made for his cock, and all that jazz.

oh but facesitting; super big fan, wants to just be in you, tongue up in your hole, while he just strokes his cock, just needs you to sit on his face so bad

be so fucking honest w me, he probably turned on by the idea of getting pegged, or getting anal. won't admit it out loud, but he wants to get treated like a prince. like just wants you to make him feel so good, that's it.

l - location

doesn't give a fuck if other people hear, will fuck you in an alleyway if he feels like it, or if you feel like it, in the public bathroom <3 but just way prefers being in bed with you, feels more romantic, and gives off more feeling to the moment, in his own opinion, will do whatever you're comfortable with.

n - no no

roleplay, anything related to it, it seriously grosses him out

non con, in general, he's disgusted by it, i know that for a fact.

don't degrade him please, he's heard, and been called all kinds of names before, and it's not like he ever liked them.

don't hurt him, it's clear in his skill he does hurt himself in the process</3, im sure he seriously just wants to love you, and wants it back, his degrading is to a small extent, and it's just in the heat of the moment thing!

#hsr scenarios #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr blade #honkai star rail scenarios #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail x reader #blade x you #blade hsr #blade x reader #honkai star rail smut

[geminimoonbeamx]

Friday I’m In Love

A/N: So jokes on me because I didn't expect to love Eddie Munson this much. @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ told me he was going to be the it girl of this season and I said absolutely not. 

Warnings: Smut, lots of it. Drug use. Judgemental teenage girls

Parings: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Eddie invites you to his show, and holy shit. You show up. 

“Remind me why the hell were here again?” 

You’d never been to The Hideout, a shitty hole in the wall off the highway outside of  town. You’ve driven by it like, a thousand times and never once had the urge to go inside. Now, as you stand next to your friend, Shelly’s, mom’s Subaru in the half empty parking lot your nerves are going haywire, over eager to walk through the doors. 

“Because, we were invited”  you answer simply. Duh. Sweeping more glittery lip gloss on and fluffing your hair before adding “plus it’s not like we had anything else to do” 

“We could literally be doing anything else then this- isn't Clair throwing a party tonight?” 

“Yeah, but all her parties are always like, major depressing. Ever since Heather you know”-you  make a gurgling choking sound and cross your eyes “Its like, why do we have to do a toast to the dead girl, every party. I get once- but it feels redundant” 

You get it. Claire and Heather were best friends. You’re also not in the mood to go hold her hand while she cries about it. Again. 

Also, Heather had put gum in your third grade. So- 

“For one- you're a horrible person” Shelly accuses, shaking her overly curly head “For two, we could’ve gone to the movies or something” 

“You think the theaters boring, plus like. Won't it be fun to try something new? Come on” you grab her hand and pull her along behind you. Sparing one last glace at the familiar van, parked idle towards the front of the lot. 

“So like, this has nothing to do with you and weirdo Munson, right?” 

“Right- and its funny the way that you only think he’s weird after he sells you weed. Asshole” 

Well- its not like you we’re expecting anything fancy from the Hideout. No expectations, no disappointment, right? The bar is the textbook definition of a dive.The lingering smell of stale beer hits you straight in the face as you walk in. Seedy lighting that makes everything look shadowy and almost green-

“Oh look! They have pool tables!” you point out because that could be fun. Maybe?

“Oh great” She replies, voice fasle sugar sweet before dropping “I want to leave” 

“Shh” you elbow her, hard. “We just got here. Play nice” 

And she does, for the most part. Sit down at one of the sticky tables with you. Avoids the looks of the bar's patrons- older. Wasted. White trash, for sure. You wouldn't talk to them, not ever but like. Whatever. You can just ignore them. That’s easy enough. 

Especially when they get on stage. The Dark Wizards, Eddie at the lead. Even though he's not singing, even though he’s off to the side with that bright cherry red guitar of his. He’s the star. 

“We’re the Dark Wizards, and we’re about to rock your mortal world” 

You don't know when this…thing you had for Eddie developed. Somewhere between smoke laced conversations and late nights glued to your phone, him fighting the shitty static of his own line to talk until one of you called uncle, the thing had taken a life of its own. 

He’s odd. Yeah. But no other guy has ever been this nice to you. Eddies odd, but he’s not cruel. He’s not like the asshole jocks or elitist math nerds. He’s not even like the rest of his leather clad D&D playing posse. 

You wish you could get everyone else to see that. Get your friends to see that. 

The singer is trash, the drummer can't keep a beat to save his life, but the guitar riffs are melodic. Smooth and sharp, and your heart catches the tune and beats in time. Blood flow slowing and stopping until your all but hypnotized. 

You clap and cheer and cant manage to tear your eyes away until the final note plays, their set is over-

“Oh my god, you're so into him” the statement is disgusted, mostly. Fascinated. Your friend looks at you like she's watching a car crash- violent and bloody, but she can't take her eyes off of it. 

You just shrug because like. Yeah. Obviously.

“Oh fuck no” she groans, face palming hard. 

Eddie hurries out from behind the stage, which is really just their supply room. Grinning from ear to ear, beaming arms spread out wide. “Look who came!” 

“You invited me, I told you I’d come” You try to contain it, but you're giddy. Even more so when he throws a gangly arm around your shoulder. “It’s no biggie” 

“No biggie? You came all the way out here to see little ol me. Huge biggie, my friend. Huge” He holds his heart with his other hand dramatically- 

Always so dramatic. Always so enamoring. 

“You deserve a drink. A real one, what is this?” He dips his pinky into your friend's drink and her nose scrunches up something fierce and offended “Sprite? Nah, that's a peasant drink. Bartender kind sir- pour us something strong. And…fruity” 

The bartender, who looks like an Ex-con, actually makes a mean Mojito. 

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

“It’s totes okay, I’ll call you when I get home, yeah?” 

You're in the parking lot, again. Except for you're not leaving in the car that you came in. 

Shelly’s tucked into the Subaru, staring out at you with all knowing eyes. 

He’s just going to drop me off at home. 

Uh Huh. 

Seriously. 

“Yeah whatever you better call me later- I want all the dirty details. Use protection- bye” she waves before her tires screech, hauling ass away from the Hideout. You flip her the bird all the way. 

“Okay let's blow this popsicle stand” you plop into the passenger side of the beat up old van, bouncing along as you go. Glad for the low cut blouse you’d donned because Eddie's eyes follow your chest, comically, animatedly. Up and down. 

“Whatever you say, mi’lady. Your house?”

“I mean- I don't have a curfew or anything on the weekend- we could go somewhere else. If you want to?”

Eddie looks pensive, lips pursed, before a light bulb goes off in his head. 

“Want to go to the end of the earth with me?” He questions as he reverses, and well. How can you say no to that offer? 

-----

The cliffs of Sattlers Quarry are jagged and high. Eddie parks too close to the edge- takes you out. Holds your hand tight as you screech, not being able to look over for more than a second. 

“Its okay,” Eddie chuckles, herding you into the open back of the van. “I come here all the time, were all good Y/L/N.”  

The seats are ripped out, posters of dragons and bare tittied ladies plastered on the metal walls. Black Sabbath plays lowly from the crappy speakers and he lays an armful of threadbare blanket down for cushioning, for the two of you to curl up on. 

You cling to him just to do it. Keep close as he rolls the cleanest joint you’ve ever seen. Spark and smoke and laugh- all attached to hip. He talks about Tolkien as fluidly as he does Karl Marx, he likes pineapple on pizza and was born the day before Valentines. Cats are superior to dogs, and he like lives off of peanut butter crunch cereal. 

His dad split when he was in eight grade and living with his Uncles not so bad, really. It’s kind of like rooming with a chill homie, but definitely nothing like having a real parent. 

“I'm boring you aren't I? Just tell me to stop, and I’ll zip my lips. Locked. Key is thrown, right off that cliff” He makes the motions, zip. Key, tossed and you lean your face into his jean clad shoulder. 

“Mmm, no. I like listening to you talk” its not a lie, not the usual shit you blow up guys ass. Everything out of Eddie’s mouth is unexpected, he tells stories with words. Vivid pictures, film on a loop. With your lungs burning and THC running through your system it's even better. 

“I like you. In general” Eddie whispers, and you hide your face even more. He shrugs you away though, turning. Face to face, no way to run from his dark eyes “I like your eyes” he leans in, and you think finally he’s gong to kiss you. Instead he gets close enough. Blinks fluttery fast, his lashes against yours. Butterfly kisses

You shake your head, cheeks burning, chest tight. 

“And your hair? I really like that- even if it is better than mine which is rude. And don't even get me started on your perfume because that? That’s my favorite. And your-” 

You slap a hand over his mouth pushing until he gives way. Until your on top thick thighs caging his waist “Stop it, jeeze I lied. I hate your voice, shuddap!” 

He makes a few muffled attempts, squirming a bit before giving up.  Going lax, bringing his hands behind his head and looking at you with dark eyes that shine and sparkle. He's enjoying this, and the long languid lick he gives to your hand shouldn't feel as good as it does. 

You like Eddie, like the way he feels. You like the way he lets you be who you want to be, do what you want to do. Other guys would’ve thrown you off, too heavy. Too dominant. They didnt want to play, but Eddie. Eddie’s wanted to play with you since you hit that doobie behind the gym. 

You unbutton your blouse slowly, letting him watch you. He can have it. All of it. Everything. You unhook your bra and those dark eyes go wide. 

“This okay?” you ask, taking your hand off of his mouth, resting on his shoulder. 

He nods, quick, adam's apple bobbing “Are you even asking me that right now? Yes, fuck yes I am a-okay. The best, really-” 

The kiss you cut him off with is messy, too much tongue. Too much want. Why had you wanted this long? Maybe it should’ve have been more romantic- but then again maybe it is? It’s own version of romance, its own courting and dating and being cared for. 

Eddies hands are everywhere, eager and exploring and its almost funny until he thumb brushes over your nipple, just on the right side of rough, making you  gasp sharp into his mouth, and grind down onto his hard lap in tight circles. Eddie pulls away, just barley. Dragging his slick mouth acros your jaw, down your chest, your hands fist tight his hair as he runs the flat of his tongue along the nub. 

It feels too good, mind numbing. Base instinct, two teenagers and in a fogged up car. Breathing eachothers air, tasting each other spit. Fumbly and needy, too fast. 

Struggling out of your clothes, you wiggle out of your tight acid washed jeans as Eddie shed’s layer after layer- Hell Fire Club Tee, Leather Jacket, Denim vest. The floor of his van littered. You’re tugging on your pink panties when he blankets himself over you, pushing you back down. The blankets rough on your bare skin. 

Eddie’s a weirdo, not a virgin. And most importantly, he’s good with his hands. The long ring donned fingers work magic. The real life kind that gets your back arching and has sounds that would embarrass you to think about later clawing their way from your throat. Feels almost too good as he rests his forehead against yours, noses bumping as he pounds his fingers in and out of you. 

He likes it, watching you squirm, watching your hips shift every time he tries to pull his hand away. 

He keeps condoms in the glove box, mostly for show. Hope. The off chance that some girl gives him a chance and wants to hook up- once in a blue moon shit. He’s glad for them now, even if it means pulling away from a whining writhing you

When he slides back between your thighs it's a heady feeling. He’s almost vibrating, shaking out of his skin, nervous excitement making him clumsy. He  misses. Doesnt slide into you easily, the two of you shifting and giggling, gasping and nosing at one and other until. 

Oh. 

There. 

The inhale you take is shaky and sharp and Eddie groans and buries his head in your neck. Breathing in your sweet perfume as his hips begin to pump. 

“O-oh my god. Eddie-” You stutter, holding on to his shoulders. He’s not the thickest guy you’ve been with, but his dicks long. Longer then average forsure. Jabbing at that place inside you, pleasure pain bursting behind your eyelids and you cling to his shoulders. There's no real pace, not from the nineteen year old, but the friction of sweaty bodies feels good, the rocking rhythmic and almost peaceful as you stare up at the van’s ceiling. You like it, the way he moans, the way he tells you how it feels- he really doesn't ever shut up. 

Its quick, you’re young and Eddie’s never been with anyone who feels so tight. You can tell when he’s close, when he speeds up to nothing more then a dirty, desperate grind. When his whole body goes taught and his arms tighten around your waist, holding onto you as he rides it out. As he shakes and shudders, needing the grounding. You hold him in the cradle of your thighs. 

He pulls out with a hiss and slumps, heavy and boneless on to you and you stroke his back, trail your fingers across his shoulders soothingly. It felt good the minutes that go by in overexerted bliss. It wasnt like you weren't used to not getting yours. Guys just had a one track mind, right? No big deal, you’ll handle it when you get home- 

Eddie's head perks up from your chest. Almost like he could read your mind, Isnt that one of his D&D elf powers or whatever?

His animated, recovered enough to have regained that mischievous look. He waggles his tongue, vulgar and pushing corny

 “Your turn, mi’lady”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson