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#y'all have the patience of gods...
rolli-zolli · 10 months
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ZoZ Real!!!
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why are people so against oliver and ryan talking about buddie, don't we want this, don't we want buddie to be canon? i'm sorry are we rooting for buck to end up with tommy or something, like I don't understand why so many people are saying stop asking them about buddie?
If we want Buddie then shouldn't we be asking buddie questions? I mean I'm so sorry but I'm just very confused, shouldn't we be happy that buddie is getting this much press and love? Why are we against it?
Okay, this is going to be a long one.
There are a few reasons why people are concerned about publications teasing Buddie happening and using the ship name and asking Oliver and Ryan about the ship. I'll try to be as concise as possible.
I would like to note, I'm not going to answer a bunch of questions about this. Other people have answered similar questions plenty of times, if you take a bit to look around 911blr. I'm sure @catdadeddie has gone into this a few times.
However, I understand that we are getting a lot of new fans this season, and so I want to try and explain comprehensively for those who haven't been around. I hope this covers everything.
Whenever a ship is between two people of the same gender as opposed to two people of the opposite gender (I know, I know, but we can't get into the gender spectrum right now just play along with me), everyone involved has to be very, very careful when it comes to talking about that ship ahead of said ship going canon.
It is very easy to slip into something called "queerbaiting." I'm assuming that you and most people online and in fandom by now have heard of this term but just in case: queerbaiting is when a show acts like a queer ship might happen in marketing and promotion in order to draw in a queer audience.
Historically, this was done by having a main character played by a woman have a romantic thing with another woman (flirting, even kissing!) who was a guest star, hinting at the main character's bisexuality/queerness, only for that guest star to never come back and for the show to act like it had never happened. This was done during something called, IIRC, "sweeps week" which was basically an important week for TV viewer ratings in the 90s. It was a way to boost your numbers by drawing in queer viewers with the promise of actual queer rep that then wasn't realized. It's a marketing tactic.
Nowadays the nature of queerbaiting has changed a bit. It's an overused term that frankly people love to (mis)use whenever a ship of theirs doesn't go canon and a show dares to do things like having two people (like say Ryan and Oliver) who play the two halves of the ship do an interview together (whether you ship Buddie or not, they are close friends, and it makes sense that they'd do a few interviews together - that is not queerbaiting). A good example of real queerbaiting is Rizzoli & Isles which, among other things, took out billboards and magazine spreads showing the characters (two women) in suggestively sexual and romantic positions and with slogans hinting that the two had more than just friendship together, then never, ever delivered on it and in fact laughed at the idea of the characters being gay for each other.
(I WAS THERE, GANDALF!!!)
Because of this unfortunate treatment of queer audiences and the (historic) dearth of actual queer characters and queer ships going canon (it's getting better but still), networks, showrunners, and so on have to be very careful when, say, they want to make a queer ship canon.
Look at how ABC handled Chenford, a popular ship in their show The Rookie. Chenford was not a planned ship - the fans adored the chemistry between the two characters (Lucy Chen and Tim Bradford), the writers liked the idea and decided to lean into it, ABC gave the go-ahead, and the ship officially got together and went canon last season. ABC heavily promoted Chenford and the ship and made a lot of jokes about it in the last couple of seasons leading into the ship going canon, using the ship heavily in their marketing.
ABC cannot necessarily do that with Buddie, because even if Buddie is going canon, until that happens, they could get accused of queerbaiting. There's a much bigger minefield to navigate because of this historic misuse of queer audiences and queer characters.
So whenever journalists and publications use a popular non-canonical queer ship name for clicks and fandom interest, if that ship doesn't immediately go canon or if the network/showrunner/etc doesn't say "yeah they're totally gonna kiss! with tongue!" people accuse the show of queerbaiting. This is unfair to the show for two reasons: one, the network is not going to bother sending "shut the fuck up" letters to every single damn publication out there for using a ship name in their headline and talking about a ship - they'll be accused of homophobia and it draws even MORE attention to the issue re: the Barbra Streisand effect (look it up); and two, the people involved in the show are NOT going to spoil the anticipation and surprise by admitting ANY ship is going to go canon before it does.
This is simple marketing - the movie trailer doesn't (or shouldn't, anyway) show you the ending of the movie or everything that happens in it. TV shows want you to tune in every week and speculate and guess. They're not gonna spoil a ship ahead of time.
This means that when journalists and articles pull this shit, they're putting the showrunner, the writers, the actors doing interviews, and the network in a bad situation that they can't really do anything about. Not without causing more mess.
So that's reason number one why a lot of us are annoyed: by yelling about Buddie, these articles and journalists are setting the cast and crew we love up to get yelled at for queerbaiting if Buddie doesn't immediately happen, and there's nothing the cast and crew can do about it, and it's all so the journalists and articles can use us, the fandom, for clicks. So we're also kinda getting used here, and it doesn't feel great.
The second reason we're annoyed about Buddie questions is that it's being asked of the actors who, nine times out of ten, have ZERO CONTROL OVER THE STORYLINES.
Now, there are exceptions. Jennifer Love Hewitt, who plays Maddie, has pushed back on a couple storylines that were given to her and has therefore had a strong hand in shaping Maddie's character. One infamous (in a positive way) example is that Maddie and Eddie were supposed to be an endgame couple. JLH, however, immediately loved the character of Chimney and clicked with Chim's actor Kenneth Choi, so she asked if Maddie could get with Chim instead, feeling he'd be a better fit for her character. And lo, both the beautiful ship Madney and the insanity that is Buddie shipping was born because Buck ended up stepping into that co-parenting-Chris role that Maddie obviously would've originally filled.
However, it should be noted that JLH was an established star before coming onto 9-1-1, and her husband is friends with Tim the showrunner. I would argue that the only other two actors who have any power on their storylines are Peter and Angela, the latter because she can do whatever she wants forever, and the former because (like Angela) he is an executive producer on the show.
It's not that actors never ever get to have a say ever, but the writers, showrunner, and network have much more power. They create the storylines, they make the decisions. Not actors. So when the actors are repeatedly asked about a ship, they're put in an awkward position where they might not even know the full storyline for their character that season and now they need to answer in a way that doesn't reveal any information they do know, but also doesn't insult shippers or dash their hopes. This is a double minefield for queer ships because, again: historic insults to queer fans and characters, nobody wants to be offensive.
The third reason is that this fandom has, historically, treated Tim, Oliver, and others like absolute dogshit over Buddie not going canon. Oliver's left Twitter and taken big social media breaks because of how he was yelled at online. It's not cool, guys. Vent all you want but directing it at the cast and crew isn't okay and maybe if it was just you talking sternly that would be fine (maybe) but when it's dozens of people? It's bullying. Full stop.
Every single time Buddie has not gone canon instantly, the actors and others have gotten verbally abused on social media. Every time the actors have been asked about Buddie and not said "ohmygod yes I want it to happen so bad" (they are not allowed to say this because it might create false hope because again: historical queerbaiting) they've gotten yelled at. We are tired of the actors getting yelled at over something over which they have no control.
The fourth reason is that Oliver, especially, has gotten asked about Buddie a LOT. A lot. The poor man is very tired. He's been cornered about Buddie and asked about it aggressively by certain journalists (one journalist, Max Gao, actually tried to corner Gavin who plays Chris over Buddie - this was a few years ago so Gavin was even younger than he is now and I personally think that is an incredibly unfairly loaded question to give to a child).
If I may dive into speculation for a moment, given how the actors have been SO gleeful about the move to ABC, the fact that they've admitted ABC is letting them do storylines and little moments that FOX wouldn't, and a few other things I won't get into here because this damn thing is long enough already... I suspect FOX would not let Buddie happen. If this is the case, then actors being asked about Buddie is even more loaded because they are being asked questions about it and they can't say "yeah we want to but the network won't let us." THEY WILL GET FIRED FOR THIS.
But, whether or not my speculation is true, the fact remains that when you are repeatedly, over and over, aggressively asked if this fan ship is going to happen or not, you get tired. There's only so many times that someone can give a diplomatic answer before you just want to snap "stop fucking asking me!" Journalists love to take advantage of fandom and social media chatter to get attention for their articles so asking over and over again about Buddie isn't because they genuinely care or think it'll happen, it's to get shippers reading their article, and so bombarding the actors and writers with this question when they've already kinda said their peace a lot about it is frustrating. Just! Leave them alone!
And AGAIN: if this was a M/F ship there could maybe be room for teasing the will-they-won't-they but because of historically bad treatment of queer characters and fans, THEY CANNOT DO THAT. So the only option open to them is to KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT. And keeping one's mouth shut and threading that diplomatic needle for years is EXHAUSTING.
We do want Buddie to be canon, nonny, and in my opinion we are going to get it. All this recent PR supports that, (again: in my opinion).
However, we have seen Oliver get bombarded with what he thinks about Buddie until the cows come home, and he deserves a break. There's nothing new he can say, there's nothing new he's allowed to say. We have seen other parts of the fandom scream that we're being queerbaited because Buddie didn't instantly go canon, without any consideration for the fact that a) queerbaiting is a marketing tactic and b) there might be other factors at play preventing it going canon. We have seen journalists take advantage of us, the shippers, in order to get attention, and we have seen them create an awkward and embarrassing atmosphere in interviews by repeatedly asking about the ship. We have seen shippers make us look bad by hounding the cast and crew on social media about Buddie, treating every woman actress who plays a Buck/Eddie love interest like shit (yes, I know about Edy, but she could be a saint and parts of the fandom would still go onto Instagram to call her names), and generally being absolute pills that would tempt any showrunner, actor, or writer to say "y'know what fuck 'em let's not make Buddie canon I'm not rewarding this shitty behavior."
"If we want Buddie then shouldn't we be asking Buddie questions?" No. Not like journalists and fans have been. It's something to bring up - in my opinion - sparingly and with an awareness of how queer storylines and ships and fandom have been mocked, ignored, baited, and so on over the years. They don't ask about Buddie because they give a shit. They ask because they want our clicks for their ad revenue and they want our retweets and likes and comments. And it's certainly not something to bombard the actors with on social media and bitch at them if it doesn't happen. It just makes the rest of fandom look bad and makes us look like children.
Additionally: These are not new questions! They're not only asking these questions now that it looks like Buddie will go canon, with serious hope and consideration based on the marketing and storylines. They've been asking this since season fucking two, when Buddie was clearly not planned, just to get fangirl (gn) clicks. They wanted to get attention and teehee over how Oliver/Ryan/whoever reacted to people thinking Buck and Eddie should touch dicks. 'Kay?
We know the pattern. So when every piece of media is screaming BUDDIE!!! we are not seeing it as "OMG could we go canon?" We see it as another round of being taken advantage of for article attention, another round of parts of the fandom being bullies and yelling about being baited, and another round of the actors being backed into uncomfortable corners.
That's why we're concerned, worried, and annoyed.
*collapses* I hope this covered everything and explained it all.
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vynnyal · 4 months
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This is likely the hardest I've laughed in rain world yet. Basically, you can glitch a spear into a quantum state using a dead bat body, allowing stabbed enemies to follow you through tunnels. So I tried bringing a leviathan to Moon. And the game really, really didn't like that
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gloriousmonsters · 2 months
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was making an annoyed joke about people who are like 'velvette is like vox and val's daughter!!' by saying that 'yeah, it's super normal to call your father 'darling' and give him kisses through the phone' and my housemate just Looked at me and I was like well ok. fair. In Valentino's world that is completely normal, but statistics out of Val's porn studio are outliers that should not be counted
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bunnihearted · 28 days
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im the one society marked as avoidant yet im always the only one who wanna fucking talk things thru. y'all are a fkn joke!!! im sry but u rlly are 💀 im the avoidant one. the one scared of conflict nd afraid of talking.... yet im always the one staying and begging to talk while the other one just leaves or is a wall nd refuses to talk abt it 😹😹😹😹😹
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cinna-bunnie · 8 months
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so like..
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is the idea that as a compromise to only having to toggle off tumblr live once a month, you now have this permanent tumblr live icon regardless of ur setting choice stuck to the bottom in the middle of everything in the hopes that i click on it accidentally anyways even though it's clear i don't want it or? where is the NO 100% STOP GIVING ME THIS SHIT I DON'T ACCEPT YOUR POLICIES AND LITERALLY COULD NOT CARE LESS ABOUT TUMBLR LIVE AND WILL NEVER BE INTERESTED IN THIS TYPE OF FEATURE OR FORMAT.
@zingring @photomatt @humans idk how many feedback requests people have to cut tumblr for "no" to just be a valid response here. ppl aren't dumb and see u inching over the line trying to force this on them despite the snooze choice.
what, are there so many ppl snoozing and such a low adoption rate that you know you need to trick users into using it so you can "make number go up" or? 🙄
#snoozing tumblr live for a month but perpetually having a big centered button that will take you there immediately at all#times while also inherently meaning that you've accepted the privacy policies and TOS for using a third party service#tumblr is so fucking annoying is2g i should just pester my mutuals repeatedly about getting onto cohost and being active instead#of talking to a fucking brick wall because obviously NO ONE at tumblr gives a shit that NO ONE wants to use their shitty third#party live stream feature. for the millionth time leave me alooooone#my patience and grace for this site is almost entirely spent y'all ngl (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠) tumblr is like one or two annoying updates away from#me bugging y'all to get on cohost. was hoping there'd be a few more good updates before we got back to the annoying enraging ones.#like.. seeing if ppl r mutuals or followers on mobile? 👍 snoozing going from 7 to 30 days? 👍 live being there despite snoozing? 👎🔫#I'm STILL not over this whole twitter UI too in the browser too. tumblr's trying sooo hard to be a blogging platform in a twitter trenchcoat#u ARE a blogging platform and are functionally different than a typical social media site in multiple key ways. why r u downgrading urself#it's bc matt thinks elon's sooooo cute and wants to kiss him so bad he'd do anything to get his attention#even crash the popularity of his site and burn his good grace he had w the platforms community.#y'all rich mf need some hobbies i swear to god (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠) y'all get bored or divorced n start tryna fix shit that ain't broken. pests.#now it's everyone else's problem too 🙄
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kraviolis · 1 year
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i can tell when the author of a fanfic im reading had a peaceful childhood
#krav talks#not to pull the 'i have actual ptsd from a traumatic childhood' card but im gonna be real#i dont think some of y'all understand exactly what hunter's childhood was like#belos also most likely was not the verbally abusive type of parent. he was physically and emotionally abusive FOR SURE. ABSOLUTELY#but theres no shot he'd just yell at hunter. he doesn't get angry like that#case in point: What Happened To Caleb#hunter isnt gonna start crying from someone yelling at him out of anger. he'll get triggered MAYBE#hunter gets fighty if he gets triggered by ANY older authority figure. kikimora and lilith werent exactly kind to him either#the only way hunter cries is when his friends are around bcus he feels so safe with them#you know who would cry over being yelled at like that??? amity.#sure later in her life she probably got into screaming matches with odalia#but if u think even she wouldnt burst into tears if she got yelled at by any older female authority figure in her life#then u r wrong. sorry#hunter was not allowed to be vulnerable. it was too dangerous to be. he also had NO ONE while under belos's thumb.#amity had her siblings. they probably gave her safe spaces to cry it out after getting verbally abused by their mom#if lilith lost her patience and raised her voice at amity (not in a mean way bcus lilith would literally Never but no one is perfect)#amity would start crying for sure. and then lilith would feel like the worst person in the world. scum of the earth.#and god forbid hunter sees this exchange. he'd rip lilith a new one even if she'd already apologized#he wouldnt stop chewing her out for even daring to speak to The Amity Blight so disrespectfully unless amity physically pulled him away.#and then he'd threaten lilith and flash step amity away and immediately call luz#now if a MAN tried to yell at amity she would be three seconds away from throwing hands#but she wouldnt even need to worry about getting her hands dirty bcus hunter would already be shoving the man to the fucking ground#and threatening to end his entire life if he even stepped foot into hunter's field of view ever again#this is why its hard for me to imagine hunter living with darius post-belos... darius wasnt kind to him at first either.#and i think hunter living with someone who had actually had a role in his traumatic childhood would make him. regress#he'd fall back into old behaviors without even noticing. im not entirely sure darius would notice either#i love darius and i love darius & hunters bond so much#but it makes so much more sense and would be so much better for hunter to live with the nocedas for a while#not permanently. camila did great with paying for 6 kids under her roof but she was one emergency away from financial devastation#and i dont think hunter would want to live in the human realm permanently either
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camellcat · 3 months
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I love captioning, you guys! what do you mean you don't? (oh god I'm dying guh my BACK my eyes I can't feel my legsss my fingers are so stiff ohhh I'm going to faint I need to eat WHY is my water all the way on the other side of my room where did the sun go oughhh my back)
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muzzlemouths · 1 year
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Psst. Just wanted to let you know that you're cool and I hope you have a really nice day today! You seem to be Goin Through It™ and I just wanted to let you know that we (your followers) like you no matter the quantity of stuff you're able to make at any given time (though we most certainly do like what you make, but that's not why most of us stay, I believe); you're very funny and have insightful opinions about writing, and you're always super nice when I stop by to say hi! Please remember to be kind to your mind and heart this upcoming Spring. I hope The Delights come into your life in leaps and bounds, and that you'll receive good news soon!!! <33
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ooh...ohh.h.....th.ank you for the kind words........
#ohhhh i fought long and hard to not just. keep this in my inbox so i could stare at it for days#when i first read this my initial reaction was ''oh god is it that obvious''#''am i like crashing and burning in real time on this blog. live on tv''#which..FAIR YEAH LMAO#to be 100% transparent here i actually haven't been on this blog all day BECAUSE i was having a day where I was just like.#ahaha my shit Sucks and everybody's just humoring me#comparison kills and i have been stabbing myself like its the ides of march lately#and the fact that i haven't put anything new out is half because of that i'm sure#like the mindset of ''if i post nothing at all then i can't compare it to [insert other authors here]''#WHICH IS SOOOO STUPID I KNOW I KNOW#self sabotage is my middle name its a bad habit i'm fighting daily but it's HARD#this has just turned into a Whining Session oh no#there's a reason i moved all of this to tags lmao#ANYWAY ANYWAY. GENUINELY I WANT TO SAY THANK YOU#from the bottom of my heart asks like these keep me from going over the deep end#it amazes me each and every day that so many of you choose not only to follow me but to STAY despite my general shenanigans and thinly veil#like i'll have days (like today) where i'm on the floor kicking and screaming over NOTHING and y'all just sit back and wait for me to get m#and it makes me so genuinely soft. the patience and kindness you show me#i will try my HARDEST to be kind to my mind and heart i promise. I promise.#if not for myself than for everyone out there continuously showing their support for me despite The Horrors#and I hope you're right i hope The Delights are somewhere in view soon enough#lord knows we could all use 'em#thank you again#❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#edit: oh tumblr cut off like half of these paragraphs#thats probably for the best. you can just guess what i said LMAO
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a silly little fanfic i write in my head! i tell myself. no big deal, helps me get to sleep at night without being bored.
why don't i write it down? that could be fun! i tell myself. nobody else has to read it.
i want certain things to happen plot-wise, about how long is it gonna take for that to work? hm...
*a few simple math equations later*
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oh. that's a lot of words.
well, might as well publish at this point! i tell myself. still a silly little fanfic that just happens to be incredibly long
*a few months later*
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...
there is not a sigh deep enough for the shit i've gotten into.
ever fanfic so hard you make 6 fucking spreadsheets?
each with about... 33 pages?
Nearly 200 pages of information to fill out. why have i done this to myself
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bittybeanie · 1 year
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brain,,,, p l esase,,,, work with m e,,,,
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kithtaehyung · 5 months
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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg
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title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️
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Words abandon you.
They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 
All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 
Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 
Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 
“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 
“Course I do.”
Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—
“I was there.”
Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…
No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 
With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 
“I was.” 
The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 
You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 
Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 
It’s just not the right time. 
“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 
Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 
Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—
“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 
And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 
All the words around you just as speechless. 
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Just like that, you’re gone again.
After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.
Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 
Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 
At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 
Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 
As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 
And a little bit of summer rain. 
It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 
What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 
How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.
But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 
Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 
There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.
But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.
After three months of questioning his existence. 
All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 
And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.
Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 
Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.
The fuck.
Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.
Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.
And he doesn’t see your name.
Dumbass: 1 New Message
But your brother’s.
What the hell does he—
Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.
…Shit.
Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.
He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 
Shit. 
Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 
Why can’t he fucking move? 
Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 
Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 
Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.
“Hey, you coming?”
“Huh?”
“We have that session in thirty.”
The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 
“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 
Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 
But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.
“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 
Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over
Fuck!
“You okay?” 
“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 
“Nah, come now.” 
He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 
Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 
But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 
Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio
“On time? You better!”
Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 
As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 
“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 
Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 
“Shit, I know.” 
“We can’t keep doing this.” 
“Dude, relax, I get it.” 
“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”
Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 
“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 
Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 
And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 
“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 
Dumbass: Incoming Call 
Of fucking course. 
Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 
“Wait, where are the—”
Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 
“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 
“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 
“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 
“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 
Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 
“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”
“Shit.”
There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.
“Okay, fine.” 
Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 
Delusion is a great place to stay.
In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”
“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”
He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 
There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    
Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 
“Everything, Yoong.” 
But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 
So, so far away. 
“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”
Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”
“Just lemme know when you get back.”
Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 
“No running.”
“K.”
When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 
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“How did that sound?” 
Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 
“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 
Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—
“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 
“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 
Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 
Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.
Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 
Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—
“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 
What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 
Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 
Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 
Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 
“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 
“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 
Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 
“Kidding. Only a little.”
Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.
Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.
Choosing not to say what he wants to. 
Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 
…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?
Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 
“Do the chorus again.” 
The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 
“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 
“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 
Done. He said it. 
And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 
Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—
“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 
Huh. They’re gonna take that? 
As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 
The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Yeah, we can try that.”
“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”
Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”
“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”
Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 
“Let’s see how it sounds.” 
“K.”
Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.
A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 
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The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 
After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.
It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 
Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 
“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”
Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 
Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”
“Nothing.”
“You sure.”
At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 
But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 
Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 
Hustler: Incoming C—
Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 
But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 
Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 
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As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 
It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 
Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 
Hustler: Outgoing Call 
Straight to voicemail? Shit.
Hustler: Outgoing Call
Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 
Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 
Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 
That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 
Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?
Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 
It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 
Hustler: Outgoing Call 
When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.
Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 
Shit. How much of that did he witness?
“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”
Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 
“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 
“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 
And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 
Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 
To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”
Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 
An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 
Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.
What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 
No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 
“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 
Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”
“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”
What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,
“It’s the food next door, huh.”
That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.
Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.
Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 
And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 
“If there’s something you need to get through...” 
Stare, and stare, and stare some more.
“Hit it until it breaks.”
Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.
As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.
And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.
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Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 
And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 
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Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 
Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 
But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 
And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.
Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.
And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 
Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 
And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 
At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 
What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 
But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 
Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 
Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.
But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 
Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—
“I went to Jimin’s last night.”
…What. 
Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”
His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,
“Care to share what’s been going on?”
He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—
“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”
Fuck! 
Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—
Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.
“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”
All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—
Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.
And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 
“Can’t fucking believe you.”
When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”
“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”
Oh, fuck that. 
Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”
“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”
“Say it—”
“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”
Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.
…Motherfucker, what?
Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 
“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”
Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.
His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?
“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 
No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”
“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”
“So everything I heard was a lie?”
“Huh?”
“He told me!”
He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.
What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 
The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.
“You gonna say anything or what?” 
Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 
Even if it kills him.
“No, I, umm…” 
“No?” 
Just hurry up and fucking do it. 
Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 
His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”
What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.
In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 
“You sure?”
It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 
A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 
Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 
Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 
His ex? 
As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—
“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”
“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”
It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,
“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 
“Domestic?”
“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 
When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”
Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”
“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 
A sudden crack splits him through.
“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 
The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 
No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 
Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.
And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.
“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 
And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”
“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 
Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.
Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 
But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 
“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 
Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”
At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 
“I think she feels all alone.” 
This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 
“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”
Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  
You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—
“I’m heading out again.”
Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”
Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 
“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”
How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 
“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”
Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 
On the run.
“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 
“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”
Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”
At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”
And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…
Yoongi almost fucking confesses.
“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”
“You think so?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” 
The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 
Unprecedented.  
“You’re the best out of all of us.” 
Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.
And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 
After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”
Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”
“You still are.”
“Says you!”
“I still am, too!”
Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 
After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,
“Break up with her, Yoong.” 
Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 
“Yeah?” 
“It’s over now.” 
“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”
Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 
“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 
Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 
“You sure it’s over?”
“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 
“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 
“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 
Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 
Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 
For three. Fucking. Months. 
“I might.” 
“…K.” 
And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.
Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.
Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 
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Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.
But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.
And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 
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What time is it? 
All that greets him is darkness. 
Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 
Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 
He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 
Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 
Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 
He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 
And the darkness pulls him back under. 
Without even telling him the time. 
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Buzzing. 
Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 
Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 
Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 
Hustler: Missed Calls (6)
Dumbass: 1 Message
Hustler: 3 Messages 
Chim: 7 Messages   
Chim: Missed Calls (3) 
Holy fuck. 
With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 
“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 
“Mm.” 
“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 
“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 
Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 
“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 
Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 
There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 
“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”
Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 
“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”
Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 
Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.
But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.
So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 
“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 
Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 
Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.
But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 
Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.
“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 
“He told you?” 
“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 
“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 
“Ah.” 
Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 
“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 
“That it’s done.” 
A hum. 
“That’s very true.” 
There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 
When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.
“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 
“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 
A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 
“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 
What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 
“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”
Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 
“Where’s the fun in that?” 
“Knowing the answer.” 
At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 
“You’ll know it when you see it.” 
“Annoying.”
“Love you, too!” 
Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 
Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 
“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 
He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 
“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 
“K. Same time tomorrow?” 
“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 
That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 
“Relax! You will like it.” 
“Chim, I swear—”
“You’ll thank me later bye!”
As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.
Exactly where he always ends up. 
Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 
But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 
Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 
Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  
Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 
He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 
That sounds like fucking bliss. 
Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful
Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 
And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 
All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 
Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you
Fucking hell.
Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 
Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…
All he wants to do is see you, too. 
You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 
After all this time. All these days and nights. 
You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  
It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 
But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 
He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 
How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 
Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 
Something that isn’t broken. 
Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 
What. No way. 
From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 
And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 
Hustler: Incoming Call 
But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.
And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 
“Are we… is this over?” 
Fuck.
“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 
Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 
“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”
“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 
“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”
“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 
Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 
“Are you? With me?” 
Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 
“No way in hell, doll.” 
Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 
“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 
That’s okay. 
Because he’s had a day, too. 
“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 
Please keep going. 
Please don’t leave him alone. 
“Talk to me.” 
Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 
You’re so good at that. 
“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 
Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.
“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  
The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 
“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 
If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 
The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 
“Fuck, really?” 
“Yeah.” 
You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 
“What did he say?” 
Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 
“Oh, thank fuck.” 
Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 
“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 
Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 
And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.
“Me, too, baby.” 
Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 
Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You will?”
He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 
“Just a little longer.”
He has to.
“Okay.”
Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 
“Thank you.”
What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 
“For putting up with me.”
Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 
At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.
“Really?”
Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”
“Boo.”
Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”
“A ha… Yeah.” 
“What are you still talking to me for?” 
“I miss you.” 
Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 
Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 
“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  
God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 
“Why?” 
Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 
“Fuck.” 
Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 
He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.
“I hate you.” 
Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 
“Ha ha.” 
You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 
“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 
Wait. Did you…
Did you just pout? 
Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 
“Wait, huh? Why!” 
“Nothing.” 
“I swear to god—” 
“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 
“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 
The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 
“Kitchen.” 
The hell? “How’d you know?” 
“You’re always in there.” 
Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 
“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 
“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 
“The world said let them cook.” 
Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 
But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 
“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 
After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 
“You better sleep, too.”
“I will.” 
With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 
Because of you. It’s always you. 
Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”
“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”
Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 
There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 
“Okay. Good night, baby.”
One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 
“Night, doll.”
When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 
Right towards the corner that stares back. 
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It’s been five days.
But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.
Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 
And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 
When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 
…So what in the fuck was that?
You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 
Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 
He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 
This is so hard. 
The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 
Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  
Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo
Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 
No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 
Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.
So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.
Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.
There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 
What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.
Tonight.  
This man.
I got the next one.
This wonderful, charming man. 
But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:
Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 
Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 
After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.
The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 
A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.
Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.
You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 
And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 
Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.
Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?
You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.
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Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 
Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.
Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call 
When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 
“Hey.” 
All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 
But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 
“Hello?” 
“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 
You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 
He simply huffs a quiet laugh.
“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 
Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 
Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 
“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 
“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”
The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 
“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 
It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 
“Do better.” 
Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 
“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 
“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 
“I’m starting to regret this.”
“Regret what?”
“Everything.”
Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”
“I am.”
The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 
“That’s a given, though.”
“Excuse you.”
Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 
“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 
Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”
There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—
“I think we’re out of condoms.” 
Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 
“Wait. Or are we?”
Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”
And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 
“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”
“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”
“Nah, you don’t have to.”
“Oh. Found some?”
“No.”
Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”
And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 
And you want that to be the case forever. 
“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 
“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 
“Damn!” 
As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 
“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 
There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—
“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 
You clutch the wheel.
“Cus I want that, too.”
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One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 
Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 
It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 
“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  
“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”
His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 
“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 
“You could’ve asked somebody.” 
Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 
And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.
But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 
“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 
“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 
“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”
Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 
And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 
Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 
“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 
And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”
“Uh huh.”
Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”
“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 
Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 
But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”
Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 
Your turn to blink.
“And I needed food.”
This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 
“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 
The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 
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“Eat.”
The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”
“Mm.”
“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 
“Just a bite then.” 
Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 
There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 
Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”
A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”
The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”
“Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”
That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”
His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 
What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 
“Everything.” 
Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 
Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 
“It’s okay,” you whisper. 
After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 
You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 
“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 
You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 
“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 
There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 
“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.
And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 
“…Yeah.” 
Fuck. “About what?” 
“That you’d hate me.” 
Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 
“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 
Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 
“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 
He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 
He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 
“You do?” 
Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 
“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 
Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 
“Hmm?” 
He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 
“Always, doll.” 
And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 
If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 
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The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 
But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 
Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 
“Where we’re going.”
Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”
When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”
“Then why—”
He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 
But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.
“You comin’?”
Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 
Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”
And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 
“Yoongi!”
Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 
Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.
And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”
Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”
You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 
So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”
Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 
How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 
After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 
What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”
Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”
“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”
“So I shouldn’t bust in?”
Huh. “What?”
“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”
“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”
He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 
Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”
“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”
The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 
What is it with him and keys? 
When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 
“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”
You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 
How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.
When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!
A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”
With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 
“So fucking long.”
You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.
But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 
Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.
“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.
Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.
Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 
When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,
“You’re so cute.”
“How,” you ask just as softly.
And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”
Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.
But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 
“Eat.”
“Huh?”
“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.
When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.
Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.
If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 
Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.
And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.
The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.
“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 
And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.
…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 
No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 
And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 
Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 
But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 
Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 
Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.
And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”
You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 
“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”
“Thanks.” 
You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,
“You’re perfect, you know that?” 
Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 
“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”
Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 
“Good. You bored?”  
“Huh?”
Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”
“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 
You could do this for eternity, too.
“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”
This man. 
“Forever might be a stretch.” 
“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 
“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 
So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 
Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 
“It was kinda hot.” 
His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 
Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 
And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 
But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 
When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 
“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 
The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 
“And why is that?”
“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 
And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”
Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”
“Okay.”
But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”
“What.”
His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”
You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”
“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”
Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 
“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 
“Uh huh.”
“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 
Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”
“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”
“It’s mine, I just ran out—”
“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 
And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 
Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 
“Uh huh.” 
You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 
Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 
Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  
You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 
Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 
“Careful, doll.”
“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 
More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 
Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”
“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 
Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 
Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 
“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 
“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 
“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 
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For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 
At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 
But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 
Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 
Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.
Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.
But team jerseys? 
Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 
When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 
As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 
Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 
Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.
Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 
They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 
Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 
“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 
Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 
You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 
Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 
Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 
“Me?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Why me?” 
Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 
“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?
Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”
“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 
Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 
Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 
“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 
Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 
When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 
You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.
A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 
And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 
Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 
“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  
“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”
The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 
Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 
You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 
All you can do is stare back. 
And without even realizing. 
You’re already rubbing your arm.
-
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tbc. :((
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a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!
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a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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bro-atz · 16 days
Text
candy
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in which: you're their sweetheart who tastes sweet like candy, and they simply cannot get enough.
pair: frat bros!ateez/afab!reader
word count: 6.1k
content: smut, gang bang (more like four threesomes), nicknames (they call you sweetheart), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), oral, anal, double penetration (x4!), creampies, filthy, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: i actually wasn't planning a part two, but... let's just say i had a dream... tysm to @k-hotchoisan and @yungilia who both helped me w this one hehe and sorry @juyofans and @yunhoszn but y'all just got another submission for your event LMAO also I HAVE NO IDEA WHY IT'S SO LONG THIS TIME AROUND HELP
networks:
@atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet
@newworldnet @san-network @wonderlandnet
frat bros!ateez: part one | part two
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Life pretty much went back to normal after your initiation was completed. Okay, that's a big fucking lie. You still were their sweetheart, but you were also their sweetheart, which meant that you had a little more obligations that the frat bros bestowed upon you.
"Hey, Wooyoung," you greeted the boy as you stepped into the kitchen. "Cooking?"
"Yeah," Wooyoung sighed slightly dramatically. "Yeosang wanted fried chicken again, so I'm making fried chicken again."
"So then why are you making curry?"
"Because I don't want curry, sweetheart. I want curry."
You bit back a laugh, but a little puff of air left your lungs, the acknowledgement bringing a smile to Wooyoung's face. After stirring the pot a little, Wooyoung took another spoon and scooped some of the curry.
"Give it a taste," Wooyoung told you.
He brought the spoon to your lips, and after blowing on it to cool it off, you tasted it.
"It's good! But it's definitely missing something," you responded.
"What? Is it salt?"
"I... I actually don't know."
"Let me try it."
You thought Wooyoung was going to try his own spoonful, but no. Instead, he kissed you, his tongue swirling around yours to get the lingering taste of the curry. Refusing to let up, he turned the stove off and walked you away from the stove to a (surprisingly) clean countertop before pinning your waist against it, his lips locking with yours feverishly.
"You taste so sweet, sweetheart," Wooyoung exhaled blissfully after the kiss ended. "I could just eat you up..."
Without a warning, Wooyoung lifted you up and sat you down on the kitchen countertop, his head tilted up as he looked at you in anticipation. The way he looked in that moment, the pink tint of his lips, was so inviting that you ran your fingers through his hair and rooted your hands on the back of his neck as you kissed him.
"Fuck, I need you right now, sweetheart," Wooyoung mumbled against your lips.
You felt his fingers brush along your waist as he grabbed your shirt and forcefully pulled it over your head, your shirt flying out of the kitchen. His hands then moved down to your jeans, and he pulled them off within seconds before spreading your legs wide open. He took two fingers and rubbed them along your folds, your arousal collecting on his fingers.
"And it looks like you need me too," he said cheekily. "Look at how wet you are, sweetheart."
"Wooyoung, please," you were so close to begging him to shut up. "Just fuck me already."
"You won't let me savor my meal? You won't let me taste how sweet you are down here?"
He sunk down, his lips hovering over your cunt. Running your fingers through his hair, you pushed his head closer to you and said, "Dear God, just fucking do something, please."
Wooyoung only got to lick a singular stripe up your cunt when he lost all his patience. Just seeing the way your pink pussy quivered with anticipation made his dick press so hard against his pants that he almost was in actual physical pain.
"Hop off and bend over," he grunted out, his voice hitting a new level of low octave.
You quickly obeyed and waited for him to unbuckle his pants and stroke his cock a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your folds. Then, without warning, he thrust his cock into you, your waist hitting the countertop, and your entire body moving forward as his hips slammed against yours. It took everything in you to choke back a moan, and it only got more difficult for you from there when Wooyoung started lightly slapping your ass.
"Fuck, Wooyoung," you moaned in a hushed tone. "You feel so good."
"Yeah? You like that sweetheart?"
You couldn't see Wooyoung's face, but you knew for a fact he had that devilish smile on his face that made your heart flutter. Not only did your heart flutter, but your cunt did too when he spanked your ass a little harder than the time before, earning a little yelp from you.
Suddenly, you heard someone drop one of the bowls from the kitchen and turned your heads to see an uninvited guest standing awkwardly in between the living room and the kitchen.
"W— I— I just— My chicken—" Yeosang stuttered as he saw you fully and completely naked bent over on the kitchen countertop with Wooyoung's dick deep inside you, his face going bright red.
"Forget about your chicken for a second, Sangie. You should pay attention to our sweetheart," Wooyoung waved the boy over. Then, pulling out and spreading your folds to give the guy a better look of your cunt spilling cream onto the floor, Wooyoung said, "Look at how wet she is... We gotta do something about it."
Yeosang gulped nervously as he stared at your arousal covered cunt, saliva continuing to pool in his mouth at an alarming rate. He leaned down to face your cunt, his hands clutching your thighs as Wooyoung continued to egg the boy on, "You want a taste, right? Come on, you know you want to."
It was true— Yeosang desperately wanted a taste. He moved so that he was right behind you and spreading your asscheeks wide, giving him better access to your cunt before leaving the most intense kiss on your clit, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked up as much of your arousal as he possibly could. Your legs trembled completely and could barely keep you up as you leaned further into the countertop, a long but quiet moan escaping you.
"Here, sweetheart," Wooyoung leaned onto the countertop and grabbed your cheeks. "Lemme give you a taste of you as well."
With Yeosang eating you out from behind and Wooyoung practically eating your face off, you could feel the tension building in your stomach, your hormones desperately wanting some sort of release. So, you whined into Wooyoung's mouth and reached back to grip the roots of Yeosang's hair, indicating to both of them that you just wanted them inside you already.
 You and Yeosang both stood upright, the boy's hands immediately grabbing your waist and spinning you around so he could press himself against you. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel his heavy panting hit your skin as he slowly started stripping down, his lips nearing yours. You wrapped your hands around the back of Yeosang's neck as you decided to cut to the chase and kiss him, the sweet taste of you lingering on your tongue as Yeosang made out with you passionately.
Wooyoung, meanwhile, was grinding his waist against yours, his cock rubbing up and down your asscrack. Not going to lie, he was a little frustrated at the way you were giving Yeosang so much of your attention that he decided to take some of it back. He quickly shoved his cock back inside you, practically pushing you further into Yeosang's arms.
"Oh, fuck, Wooyoung!" you whined as he slowly moved his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you with relative ease. "S-So good!"
Wooyoung hummed in response, his hips snapping up sharply to meet yours suddenly, making you yelp and cling closer to Yeosang. Yeosang, who had unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his pale chest and rock solid abs, was losing his mind gradually the more he felt your nipples and breasts rub against his chest, his own cock throbbing and practically ready to burst.
"Sweetheart, I don't think I can wait any longer," Yeosang whispered to you, the desperation obvious in his voice. "Can I please fuck you?"
Yeosang asking you for consent was honestly the cutest fucking thing, and you wanted to savor the moment more, but you were unable to because Wooyoung was making all sorts of raunchy noises as he thrust sharply into you, his hands holding onto your waist tightly.
"Yes, Yeosang," you responded, your breathing hitching with every thrust from Wooyoung. "Fill me up, baby."
Yeosang wasted no time. He pulled his cock out of his pants and rubbed the tip against your clit before pushing his own way into your cunt, both boys now fully inside you. What drove you even more insane was when Yeosang hooked his arm behind your knee and pulled your leg up, giving both him and Wooyoung easier access to your fluttering pussy.
"Try her ass— it's so fucking tight, and it feels amazing," Yeosang advised the guy behind you.
With a smirk and a nod, Wooyoung pulled out and pressed the tip of his cock against your asshole, the sensation already driving you insane even though all he was doing was teasing you with just the tip.
"Relax, sweetheart," Wooyoung whispered into your ear. "Otherwise it's going to hurt."
You did as Wooyoung instructed, allowing him to move his cock in and out of you with relative ease. You flung your head back and began moaning a little more loudly as the tension within you built up exponentially.
It was when Yeosang rubbed against your G-spot perfectly several times in a row did the tension snap. With one hand on Yeosang's shoulder and the other  on Wooyoung's arm, you grabbed onto them tightly as you came loudly, your moan and cries of relief echoing in the kitchen and living room.
Your walls and ass tightened up as you came, both boys wincing as they, too, nearly came upon feeling you squeezing their cocks.
"You felt that good, sweetheart?" Wooyoung asked breathlessly. "You like the two of us fucking you like this?"
"God, ye-es!" you cried. "So fucking good!"
Both boys chuckled and continued to fuck you senseless until they were forced to stop when another person interrupted the fun.
"You've gotta be shitting me— What the fuck are you two doing?!" San yelled, completely startling you to attention.
You turned your head to see through bleary, teary eyes the figures of San and Jongho, the two of them standing in identical poses with their arms crossed over their chest.
"What the fuck does it look like, dumbass?" Wooyoung retorted.
"You know Hongjoong hyung and Seonghwa hyung said to leave her alone, so why are you fucking her?" Jongho clarified.
"How can you expect us to stay away when she looks like this?" Yeosang questioned as he grabbed your face and held it up to show the other frat bros your half-lidded, glazed over eyes with beads of perspiration dotting your forehead and making your hair stick to your skin. "Our poor sweetheart needs us to fuck her brains out... Did you really think we would say no?"
Just the sight of you looking so pathetic and desperate, Yeosang's and Wooyoung's cocks getting squeezed so tightly in your holes, the two of them fondling and gripping the appealing parts of your body— San and Jongho understood.
"Sannie..." you whined, the boy's face turning red. Jongho's face matched that shade when you continued, "Jjongie..."
That did it. The two of them quickly joined the other two who were fucking you, their clothes coming off at a record speed. San gently gripped your throat and turned you to face him, his lips hungrily meeting yours while Jongho started stroking himself off by himself, only for you to reach out for his cock and start stroking him yourself.
Wooyoung was still steadily rutting into you while the newcomers got situated because after you came, he was so ready to cum since your ass squeezed him so tight. His breathing hitched, and white started to fill his vision, making him pull out of your ass and struggle but successfully slip his cock into your cunt, the two cocks in you driving you insane.
"Shit, I'm cumming," Yeosang hissed before biting his lower lip, his eyes fluttering shut.
Both cocks, both waists slammed powerfully into you at once, Yeosang groaning loudly while Wooyoung bit your shoulder. San released you from your chain of kisses with him, letting you gasp and moan as you felt both boys fill you up, their ropes of cum spurting inside you nonstop. Yeosang pulled out of you first, but Wooyoung remained inside you as he whispered, "Keep our load safe, sweetheart. Don't let a single drop spill in my kitchen."
"Yeah, wait, what're we doing fucking our sweetheart in the kitchen?" Jongho asked.
"She should be somewhere more comfortable, right sweetheart?" San cooed.
Normally, you would've slapped San silly for treating you like that, but you were so desperate for both him and Jongho to stuff you full with their thick cocks that you just let him do as he pleased. San ended up passing you on to Jongho, who quickly slid his fat cock in you, spreading your walls so open that you felt completely stuffed by his cock. Then, when he cupped the underside of your asscheeks and lifted you, you felt him even more, his cock driving deeper into you. You clung to him as he bounced you on his cock and walked you into the living room— at that point, you knew that none of the fraternity brothers were going to drop you, so you trusted them to just carry you around wherever they wanted to take you. 
Jongho sat down on the couch, making you automatically sit on his lap. He wasted no time bouncing you faster on his cock, his hands still firmly planted on your ass. You clung to his shoulders and let out little yelps and cries until San stuffed your face full with his cock.
"Quiet, sweetheart," San warned. "We don't want the hyungs finding out, do we?"
San's cock muffling your response, you settled for nodding before focusing on licking and sucking his cock while Jongho worked overtime underneath you, his hips bucking upwards every so often to give you that extra pleasureful sensation. You gripped Jongho's shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to relentlessly fuck you.
Suddenly, San pulled his cock out of your mouth, a line of saliva trailing from the tip of your tongue to the tip of his cock. San inhaled sharply, the sight of you looking up at him with your mouth open and begging for his cock driving him simply insane. The thing was that he desperately wanted to fuck you as well, so he quickly made his way around the couch so that he was standing behind you. He held your waist with one hand and positioned his cock against your cunt before pushing his way through.
The thickness from both Jongho and San was too much for your brain to comprehend. You desperately wanted to cry out loudly, but you didn't want Hongjoong or Seonghwa to realize what was going on, so you settled for flinging your head back and biting your lower lip painfully hard.
"Good girl, sweetheart," Jongho complimented you when you brought your head back and buried it in the crook of his neck. "Such a good girl staying quiet like we asked."
"Oh, fuck, Jongho," you whimpered, the compliments from him turning you on even more. "M-More..."
"You want me to keep calling you a good girl?" Jongho chuckled, his laugh making your fingers and toes tingle with excitement. "Then be a good girl and gimme a kiss."
You happily obliged, your lips locking furiously with Jongho's. His grip on your waist got tighter when you ran your fingers through his locks, your thumb brushing against his ear. And since Jongho was so busy kissing you, San took it upon himself to continue showering you with compliments.
"Look at how well your cunt is swallowing our fat cocks. You were really made for us, sweetheart. A good girl, a good fucking sweetheart," he muttered in between grunts as he thrust sporadically.
That's when San made the decision to spank your ass before grabbing it with his large, firm hand, making you nearly bite Jongho's lower lip. It was the combination of San slapping your ass and his hips moving at just the right angle that made you cum for the second time that day. Breaking your lips away from Jongho's, you let out a breathy whine into neck, making him shiver with excitement.
"Oh, fuck, sweetheart," Jongho bit out, his voice strained. "I'm cumming too!"
San pulled out and let Jongho have you to himself for several more thrusts before he came inside, the feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing inside you stimulating you further. The second Jongho pulled out, San immediately re-entered you, refusing to let a single drop of cum spill onto the couch. He turned you over— with his dick still inside, making the sensation feel incredibly new and amazing— and pinned you to the couch, his hands holding your arms above your head. He looked so deathly serious in that moment, and it made you nervous, excited, and definitely more horny.
"Sweetheart," he drawled as he pressed his body closer to yours. "I need you to do me a favor."
"Y-Yes, Sannie?"
San hummed as he started rolling his waist into you, the feeling of his cock, now without any obstructions, tapping your cervix making stars fill your vision. In an insanely low register, he continued, "I need you to keep what happened here quiet. Do you understand?"
You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. He held both your arms down with one hand, allowing him to stick his fingers in your mouth and force you to open your jaw.
"Use your words, sweetheart. You are not to tell Hongjoong hyung or Seonghwa hyung that we fucked you, got it?"
"Yes, Sannie," you whispered.
"Good girl," San smiled at you so angelically as if he didn't just practically threaten you seconds prior, the look on his face making your heart race faster. "You're such a sweetheart."
San leaned back and let go of your arms so he could grip your waist, his hips gyrating into yours faster, a solid look of concentration befalling his face. You watched through bleary eyes as his hair covered his darkened eyes and as he licked and bit his lower lip.
It didn't take long for him to finish— he was honestly holding himself back ever since he heard your breathy whine into Jongho's neck, but he wanted you to himself for just a moment, to enjoy having the sweetheart belong to him and only him for a split second. Slamming his waist into yours so hard that your head nearly hit the arm rest, San came hard, his cockhead hitting your cervix with just enough force that you came instantly, stars completely filling your vision at that point.
You don't know how, but while you were still recovering from the high of your orgasm, San, Jongho, Yeosang, and Wooyoung had managed to get you dressed for the most part— they couldn't figure out your bra for the life of them unfortunately. When San slipped your panties on, you heard him whisper, "Don't let a single drop spill, and I'll reward you later."
"What if she does spill, though?" Wooyoung asked.
"Then we punish her," Jongho stated definitively.
"I don't know, I think she would enjoy that," Yeosang snickered.
"No, like we dump all of our chores on her," San explained. "A real punishment."
Suddenly, the five of you heard the garage door begin to open. You blinked the daze out of your eyes and did your best to regain you sanity while the other four made a mad dash for it.
"Hi, sweetheart," Hongjoong greeted you comfortably.
"Oh, hi," you squeaked out as you pressed your legs together, suddenly remembering San's warning.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Seonghwa, who followed Hongjoong shortly thereafter, sat down on the couch right next to you.
"Y-Yeah! I'm fine," you cleared your throat and scooted away from Seonghwa before he could put his arm around your shoulder as he normally did. "I just remembered I have a... A project! Yeah, I have a project to finish so I'll, um, I'll be in my room."
With that, you scurried off, and instead of going to your room like you said you would, you went to San's room to figure out how fucking long you would have to hold the cum inside you. But, before you could even grab the handle, Seonghwa grabbed your wrist. He dragged you to your bedroom and threw you on your bed, Hongjoong trailing after you two and closing the door behind him.
"Seonghwa?!" you exclaimed as he pinned your arms on either side of you. "W-What— W-Why—"
"Tell me the truth, sweetheart," Seonghwa said, his voice dangerously low. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"What?!"
"Seonghwa, what the actual fuck?" Hongjoong piped up. "Listen, sweetheart. You gotta tell us if anything happened between you and anyone else while we were gone."
"No...?"
"Sweetheart," Hongjoong's tone turned a shade darker. "Tell me the truth."
"Yes..."
"Oh my fucking God, and after we specifically told them not to?!"
Rather than storm out of your room and yell at the boys, Hongjoong sat on the bed next to you and explained, "I guess we should've told you too... But the reason we didn't want anyone touching you— including us!— is because we value you and the work you to for us, and your initiation was one thing, but we don't want to break your heart or anything like that because we don't want to lose you."
"Also, we didn't want the college finding out," Seonghwa added.
"Yes, that too."
A mixture of embarrassment, shame, and guilt swept over your body.  "I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you apologized with a heavy sigh, your eyes downcast as you looked down at your lap. "Can I make it up to you somehow?"
There was a brief moment of silence in the room before Hongjoong leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your ear as he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.
"I think it's only fair if we get a turn as well," Hongjoong murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is that okay?"
"Yes, Hongjoong," you breathed out, the feeling of his hand slowly riding up your thigh arousing you. "That sounds fair."
Hongjoong smiled briefly before running his fingers through the hair on the back of your head, his lips meeting yours softly. He kissed you sweetly, pulling him into you, love and affection swirling through your head and heart as he started so gently with you— that being said, you wanted more from him than this vanilla bullshit. The two of you collapsed on the bed entangled in each others' arms, leaving Seonghwa to get started on stripping you down. The second he pulled your pants off, though, he got an eyeful.
"Is this... Is this what I think it is?" Seonghwa asked as he saw the white spill out of you.
You pressed your lips together and looked away, your face turning bright red as you wordlessly confirmed Seonghwa's assumption. Hongjoong turned your head to face him, the darkness in his eyes building as he said, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"
With one swift motion, Hongjoong turned you around so that you were on all fours and your ass was high in the air. He spread your asscheeks and folds open to see the cum from the four boys who fucked you prior spill out of you and onto your bed, staining your sheets. The sight of your red, raw pussy and cum dripping out of it was a little too much for Hongjoong. He could barely wait at that point. He quickly pulled his cock out of his pants and lined his cock up with your cunt before sliding in easily thanks to the cum and your arousal.
"This pisses me off, not going to lie," Hongjoong admitted quietly mainly to himself. "I hate that they deliberately disobeyed me and had their way with you."
"Then have your way with me," you responded absentmindedly.
"Yeah? You sure?" Hongjoong immediately perked up.
"Yes, Joong. I want you to have your way with me," this time you truly meant what you said.
That permission was all Hongjoong needed to thrust into you with full force, your entire body lurching forward as a result. Your arms buckled under you, making you press your chest into the bed, a moan mixed with a cry leaving your lips.
"Don't tell me someone spanked you as well," Hongjoong said through gritted teeth as he noted the light pink hand mark on your ass.
"I bet it was San," Seonghwa said confidently as he knelt on the bed before you, his pretty cock pressing against your cheek. "Right, sweetheart?"
You let out a little noise indicating to them that they were right, an annoyed sigh leaving Hongjoong's soul. Grabbing your ass harshly, he said, "Let's replace his mark then."
You yelped when Hongjoong's palm made quick contact with your ass, the stinging feeling slowly melting into pleasure as he continued to rut into you at a gradual pace. Seonghwa, meanwhile, grabbed you by your cheeks and guided you upwards, his cock tapping your squished cheeks.
"Won't you suck this for me, sweetheart?" Seonghwa asked you nicely, a stark comparison to what the other frat bro behind you was doing.
You enthusiastically took him into your mouth, a long exhale leaving him as he felt you bottom out. He pet your hair and mouthed good girl to you, making your entire body tingle with excitement. His hand on the back of your head, he kept you in place as he moved his hips slowly, his pace uneven compared to Hongjoong's, who was speeding up exponentially.
After leaving another quick, tight slap on your red ass, Hongjoong reached over and grabbed your arms, pulling them back so your wrists were crossed behind your back, Hongjoong's hands keeping you in place. Your back arched in a different way than it was arched earlier, sending waves of pleasure through Hongjoong's body.
"You feel so fucking good, sweetheart," he grunted. "I'm gonna cum inside."
As Hongjoong's thrusts got more aggressive, Seonghwa's demeanor changed. He went from being angelic to a total devil when he firmed his grip on your head and started moving you at a faster pace, his cock reaching the back of your throat and making you gag occasionally.
When he thrust into you powerfully one final time, Hongjoong ended up shoving you so far into Seonghwa that his cock hit the back of your throat hard, making you gag loudly. Seonghwa let you breathe as Hongjoong's cum filled you up, and when he pulled out, all the cum seeped out of you at an uncontrollable rate. Hongjoong got off the bed and took a step back to appreciate how fucked out you looked while Seonghwa fully got on the bed, his cock raring and ready to go. That's when someone knocked on the door.
"Hey, sweetheart, is what San saying t— oh my God?!" Mingi shrieked as he saw the vulgar position you were in.
Normally, you would be embarrassed, but you were so far gone in your horniness at that point that you just wanted anyone and everyone to fill you up and fuck you like a fucking slut.
"Hey, what the fuck?" Yunho frowned at the two older frat bros in the room. "You're the ones that told us that our sweetheart was off limits, so why does everyone get to fuck her but us?!"
"Well, I don't see why you can't now," Hongjoong said with a sigh.
"Sweetheart, would it be okay if Yunho and Mingi joined us?" Seonghwa asked you.
Your eyes half-lidded and full of desperation, you nodded and beckoned the two tall boys to come and abuse you.
Yunho and Mingi did not need to be told twice. They quickly stripped themselves down and hopped on the bed, Mingi beating Yunho to your lips. Mingi wrapped his fingers around your neck and guided you to kneel in front of him, his fingers squeezing lightly, giving you the right amount of pressure for immense pleasure. Yunho, meanwhile, barely started fingering you before the knot that was slowly building inside you quickly snapped, his fingers curling and grazing your G-spot perfectly. You cried loudly into Mingi's mouth and practically flung yourself onto him as you squirted all over your bed.
The sight of your arousal and five boys' mixed cum dripping down your leg was too much for Yunho. He practically tore you away from Mingi and brought him to you, your ass facing him as you went back down on all fours. You muffled a moan as you felt Yunho slip one of his slender fingers into your asshole, the finger gliding in a little too easily, and it was still too easy when he slipped in another finger.
"I heard Wooyoung loosened you up a bit earlier, huh? Well, that's helpful," Yunho chuckled delightedly. "This still may hurt a little bit, though, so relax, sweetheart."
Yunho didn't lie. It fucking hurt when he slowly shoved his cock inside you, but the second he bottomed out, that pain turned to pleasure, the throbbing of his cock inside your tight ass turning you on even more. He stayed stationary for a bit, allowing you to get used to his immense sized shoved all the way inside you.
The other two, however, were also eager to fuck you, and they didn't want to wait any longer either. Seonghwa slid into the space under you, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit and making your legs wobble while Mingi knelt before you the same way Seonghwa had earlier, his huge, throbbing cock intimidating the shit out of you.
"Come on, sweetheart," Mingi said, his low voice sending shivers down your spine. "Lemme feel that pretty little mouth of yours."
Mingi practically shoved his cock down your mouth, your mouth opening so wide that you felt the corners of your mouth crack. You immediately hollowed out your cheeks, making him sharply inhale and groan in pleasure. He couldn't even find the words to tell you how fucking good he felt, but you could tell he was on cloud nine when you looked up at him and saw him gnawing on his bottom lip.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't look at me like that," he groaned. "I don't wanna cum just yet."
You continued to tease him by batting your eyelashes and took him out of your mouth, a long, thick trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He broke the trail when he slapped his cock against your cheeks lightly, a teasing smile on his face as you looked up at him and giggle, only for the smile on your face to be knocked off when Seonghwa caught you off guard and thrust into you, Yunho doing more damage by moving slowly.
"Don't just give Mingi all of your attention, sweetheart," Yunho lectured you. "Hyung and I are still here."
Yunho started moving inside you, his cock making you feel like he was going to pull your insides out. Seonghwa, meanwhile, decided to stagger his thrusts so that he was going in while Yunho pulled out, the level of stimulation going right to your head. You could barely keep focus even when Mingi pulled your head back towards him, his cock yearning to be inside you again.
Below you, you could hear Seonghwa's little whimpers and whines as he fucked you slowly, the sounds of desperation making your cunt, and coincidentally asshole, unconsciously clench, both Yunho and Seonghwa letting out some sort of erotic groan. Yunho, squeezing his eyes shut, did his best to hold off on his orgasm, but Seonghwa lost it at that point. Sliding his hands over your ass, he grabbed your asscheeks and pulled you down as he thrust upwards, a loud exhale leaving his lungs as he emptied his load inside you.
Respect for the eldest frat bro flew out the window the second Mingi and Yunho both realized he had cum. Yunho pulled out quickly— the sheer force nearly making you cum— allowing Mingi to lift you off Seonghwa. He laid down on the bed and effortlessly laid you down on top of him, your back pressing against his chest. Yunho then appeared above you, his soft, deceptive smile letting relief wash over you for a millisecond before you saw his monster cock rest on your stomach.
"I don't know why you look so scared, sweetheart," Yunho chuckled. "You fit both me and Mingi in you before. You can do it again."
He lowered himself to you and kissed you sweetly— so fucking misleading considering what he was about to do to you— while slowly rubbing the length of his cock against your clit. Mingi, taking advantage of Yunho's slow pace, slipped his cock inside you, your head pressing back into the nook of Mingi's neck as you cried out loudly. You could hear Mingi's low chuckle right next to your ear as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up so that your knees were pressing right into your breasts.
Yunho decided to slip his own cock in without warning, making you scream yet again. This time, you weren't able to fling your head back because Yunho grabbed the roots of your hair and held your head up, forcing you to look at him, your body curling towards him.
"That's my good girl," he praised you, the praise washing pleasure through your body once more.
You smiled and bit your lower lip, a shy little giggle leaving you as you looked at Yunho fondly. That giggle in and of itself was enough to make both him and Mingi cum, but they refused to let up just yet. Still holding onto the back of your head but a little more lightly, Yunho hugged your leg to his chest and started rolling his hips into yours, his breathing getting shallower and higher in pitch the longer he thrust into you.
Below you, you could hear profanities pour out of Mingi's mouth in a hushed tone, his grunts slowly turning into tiny whimpers as his hips bucked into yours at varying paces. His hold on you got weaker as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, the boy unable to hold back any longer. Yunho pulled out, allowing Mingi to hug you properly and thrust at a wild speed, stars filling your vision as his massive cock kept hitting your cervix repeatedly. However, Mingi came right at you were hitting your peak, disappointing you slightly when you felt his ropes of cum fill you up.
Since you were so close and desperate, your brought your hand to your clit and were about to rub yourself, when Yunho pulled you off Mingi and laid you down on the bed next to him, his hand pulling your leg over his so he could fill you up with his cock once again.
"You feel good, sweetheart?" he asked you, his voice hoarse. "You wanna cum?"
"Yes— Mmm— I do," you responded weakly.
"Alright, sweetheart. I'll make you cum."
Flipping you around so that you were no longer facing him, Yunho pulled your leg back to open you up again and re-entered you before snaking his hand around your waist, his delicate fingers brushing against your clit before rubbing fast, vigorous circles over it. His thrusts got more powerful and sharper, and he rubbed your clit just right at the same moment his cock hit your cervix, making you cum. Yunho, however, was still inside you, so you were squirting with every thrust, the fluttering of your cunt too much for him to handle. He slammed his waist against yours, his cock spasming inside you briefly before he pulled out, letting you squirt all over the two of you and the bed before re-entering you and completely finishing inside you.
You remained on the bed in a puddle of pleasure and cum as the two tall boys got up and off the bed. The left your room, only to return moments later with water, towels, and new sheets for your bed. The other six frat boys decided to help out until you were revived (for the most part).
"Alright, let's clear out and let her sleep," Hongjoong tried to usher the other members out of the room.
"Hey, no way! You're totally doing this so you can stay back and cuddle with her!" Wooyoung realized before he took a single step.
"That's not true!"
"Then why are your ears turning red?" Seonghwa accused Hongjoong.
"That wasn't— I didn't—"
"Guys, let's settle this a different way since clearly all of us want to be with her tonight," Yunho interjected. "Sweetheart?"
You looked up at the eight boys, your eyes still hazy, your mind still dazed.
"Who do you want to sleep with tonight?"
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tags:
@/k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia
@dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever
@sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty
@startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @bsehindu @alexwritesfics
@woomyteez @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @sanglix @minkilicious
@isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @khjoongie98 @jaerisdiction
@ninoshome1 @aaa-sia
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You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)
absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.5k
genre: rockstar au !! fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings: drummer reader, some real 'where does the performance end and you begin' vibes, reader smokes, it's inferred that they're also drinking, y'all will have to pry bestie peter from my cold dead hands
a/n: oh uuuuuh more pining more yearning more I'm in love with you but I'm too afraid to make it real. like what if you were all in a band and you were all in love and you were all too scared of fucking it all up to say anything
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"You're looking awful glum tonight," James points out as he leans against the railing of the balcony you're on. He doesn't reprimand you for sitting on the railing, but he does frown as he glances down to where the ground is, inching closer to you to place a firm hand on your thigh.
"I called the car around - I'm going back to the hotel. You can let the others know if they notice," you respond in a sigh, the smoke leaving your lungs on the exhale as you bring your cigarette to your lips for another drag.
"…Are you sober right now, love?" James asks, eyeing you carefully. You look at him bemusedly.
"You think I came to a party after our show and… didn't have a single drink?"
"Well…" he says carefully. You narrow your eyes and James grips your thigh a little tighter - a plead for you to hear him out. "You weren't exactly the life of the party tonight, lovely. You disappeared pretty quick. If you have been drinking, that means you've been doing it out here - alone, sitting very precariously on a very high balcony, with no one looking out for you." You've stopped looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the expansive driveway out front of whoever's house this is. When you see your car pull up, you put out your cigarette easily on the railing before sliding off of it, letting James keep a hand firmly on you, sliding from your thigh up to your waist.
"I don't need a babysitter, James," you say bluntly, but you can't help but soften a bit at the wide, sad eyes he gives you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. You wonder idly if he realizes he looks at you so often like he's a puppy you've just kicked. "I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsals," you offer gently before you slip away.
In the safety of the backseat of your car, tinted windows blocking out the gaze of the outside world, you let your head lean back against the seat, sighing and closing your eyes as you rub at your temples. The relief is short-lived, however, as the car door is pulled open and James slides into the seat next to you, grinning despite the glare you sent him.
"Didn't really think I'd let you go sit at the hotel sulking all night, did you?" He quips. You bristle.
"I don't sulk," you huff. His smile widens as the car pulls away.
"Sure you don't, sweetheart." He throws an arm around your shoulders and you let him, sighing as you lean against him, resting your head against his chest. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.
"Nothing," is your quick reply. He hums thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair gently.
"Wanna try again?" He's still gentle, a patience seeping from him into you that lulls you as you relax further against him.
"It's just a lot sometimes. I'm tired is all," you admit. James presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your heart does something funny in your chest.
"You're allowed to take a break every now and then, love," he offers. You tense.
"I don't need -"
"No, but you still can," he placates, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he silently coaxes you into relaxing once more. "I know you don't need to. God knows you'll run on fumes forever and never say a thing about it. But you don't need to - not here, not with us."
James, in all his mother-hen nature, continues to reprimand you in that gentle, caring way of his all the way up to your hotel room, only stopping when you shut yourself in the bathroom and turn the tap on so that you can't hear him. By the time you come out in clothes that are decidedly much more comfortable than what you'd been wearing at the party, he's lounging in your bed and flipping idly through TV channels.
"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you quip as you flop onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard. James grins in that beaming way that he's so fond of, turning the TV volume down to a low, background hum.
"Thanks, love." You scoff at his words.
"Are you planning on staying here all night?" You ask wearily. He pretends to think about it.
"What will you do if I leave?" You shrug, sliding further down in bed and crossing your arms. James opens his mouth to speak and you know he's going to say something about you sulking, so you make a point to wack him with a pillow before he can. He laughs good-naturedly about it, though, so you're not so sure what you've accomplished.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you don't have time to ponder it further before your hotel room door is swinging open and Sirius is flouncing into the room, Remus trailing in after him. You sigh and look at Remus imploringly, but he only shrugs, leaning towards you to squeeze your shoulder in what you're sure is supposed to be comforting before he settles in the armchair next to the bed. Sirius, on the other hand, takes to flopping directly across the bottom of the bed, landing on James's legs and causing some sort of friendly tussle between the two of them.
"This is actually my hotel room, you know," you point out dryly. "How did you even get in here?"
"You gave Peter your spare key," Remus points out.
"Peter doesn't come in unannounced," you shoot back. Sirius and James stop whatever roughhousing they're caught up in so that Sirius can lean over and press a sweaty kiss to your cheek. You click your tongue in annoyance and hope it hides the way your heart flips.
"Cheer up, doll," Sirius says, unperturbed by your scowl. "What were you playing at, anyway? Leaving without telling any of us and thinking we wouldn't notice? Like we wouldn't miss our favourite drummer." You shoot James a look that says you shouldn't have told them and he smiles disarmingly.
"Just because I'm staying in tonight doesn't mean you all have to - and I'm your only drummer, Sirius, in case you've forgotten," you say icily. Sirius smiles, but it's more honest than you're used to, and he reaches across James to smooth a thumb over your cheek quickly before pulling back.
"Could never forget you, love. Not even if I tried." You stare at him, his tone heavier than normal, as Remus shifts and clears his throat.
"Anyway, dove… we just want to make sure you're alright, yea?" He says, and you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding as the tension dissipates. 
"Everything's fine," you say stubbornly. "I just didn't really feel like being there tonight."
"Well, we can see that," James chimes in. "But you always go to these things. You -"
"I know, I know, ok? I won't - it won't happen like that again, all right?" You huff. "I won't leave like that."
"No, see, I'm not sure you're understanding what Jamie's saying, love," Sirius says, the softness in his voice making your heart drop. It takes a lot for Sirius to be gentle, and he only does it when he thinks he really needs it. "What we're saying is that you don't have to. Pete never goes to the parties - we haven't kicked him out of the band yet, have we?"
"But that's different," you sigh, sitting up straighter. "Pete and I… are different kinds of performers. You know that." Remus leans forward in his chair to put a hand on your knee and you will yourself not to flinch at the contact, not to shy away from the kindness in his eyes that you know he reserves for the people he really loves.
"You don't have to perform here, love," Remus says gently. "You don't have to do that. Not here, not when it's just us." Your bottom lip trembles and you bunch the covers of the bed in your hands.
"Sometimes I think, for you lot, this life is fun… and for me, it's still work. I just can't make myself see it the way you guys do."
"But that's what we're here for," James offers, his voice kind. "Let us help you out. We decided to do this together for a reason, right? You decided to stick with us for a reason."
"I… I did, yea," you say.
"Yea," Sirius repeats. "So let us be here, alright?" Remus rubs his thumb across your knee as the other two look at you expectantly. You smile, a terse, small sort of thing - but it works nonetheless.
"Alright," you sigh. "Together, then."
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vmbrq · 9 months
Text
MINORS DNI ; cnc (breeding?), afab/fem reader
just bc @/hyeyulove said they missed my ethan writing.
giggling rn because being in a relationship with deranged, ghostface ethan landry would be one hell of an experience on its own, but the day you let him fuck you without a condom is the day you can kiss your autonomy GOODBYE LMAOOO that man will NEVER leave you alone. he's already attached to you as is, so you think you can expose him to raw sex with FEELINGS and live the rest of your life in peace? that's actually really funny.
he'll be so needy—pawing at you, pressing up against you, languidly smoothing his hands over your waist and thighs, sheepishly commenting on how good you smell or look, anything to lure you into fulfilling his wishes. even if it's just you sitting on his cock and not moving while you two watch a movie or him teasing only the tip into your cunt, he just wants to feel you. he'd be addicted to how fucking warm and wet you feel without the latex barrier, groaning at how clearly he can feel every twitch and pulse of your walls, his breath hitching as you let him hold you by the hips and slowly guide you up and down along the length of his cock, on the verge of trembling when he clutches you tightly and empties his balls inside you for the second time.
and god forbid you ask him to pull out in the middle of him drilling into you. you're so overwhelmed, crying out and drunk on pleasure, babbling for him to pull out! since it's the only thing you can remember to do. but sometimes, ethan can be so mean when he's in charge. he'd loom over you, eyes wild and dark, lips pulled back into a mocking grin, and laugh. you think you have a chance at deterring him? that's cute. he'd take your moment of bewilderment as you stare up at him with wide eyes to hook his hands under your knees and fold your lower half up and into a mating press.
you don't have a snowball's chance in hell at pushing him off. he's far too heavy, too strong, and he'll reinforce your lack of control by leaning his weight on you to keep you pinned helplessly in place. all you can do is moan and whine and wince, embarrassed, at the obscene squelch of his cock bullying its way deep inside your sticky, overstimulated cunt and the slap of his heavy balls against your pelvis. but as overstimulated as you are, you don’t dislike it. he knows you don’t. if you did, your cunt wouldn’t be squeezing around his cock to keep him inside every time his hips pulled back a bit further than usual. you’re like an open book. he knows you by now.
on another note, the amount of text messages he sends you will increase in general, and if you don't reply within the time frame he deems acceptable, he'll start blowing up your phone. you'll wake up from a long nap, disoriented and not even remembering who the hell you are, and find several missed calls and texts from him as well as your man HIMSELF standing outside your bedroom window.
and those little couples pranks you see on tiktok, the one especially that's like "texting my bf he's gone, you can come over now?" yeah, you can't do that LMAOOO that man is INSANE. you remember how strong he was in that apartment scene where he was terrorizing the core four? HELL nah. you can damn near hear his car tires screech from down the STREET as he swerves around and heads back to you. in his brain, oh, so you think you can just be handing out pussy that good all willy nilly? 🤨 yeah okay. i know that the way he tried to kick in that bedroom door had y'all feeling something, bc me too.
he wouldn't try to kick it down immediately, but he'd stand out there seething, jaw locked, knocking on the door a little harder than normal, fighting to keep his voice even so he won't scare you out of letting him in. but his patience would dwindle rapidly. his behavior would be erratic, switching between pleading and persuasion and guilt-tripping and banging on the door and yelling so quickly you can barely keep up. babe you are playing with your LIFE😭 that pussy got him in a chokehold, and he'll be damned if anyone even gets the opportunity.
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wannabelife · 4 months
Text
fantasize – csc
pairing: seungcheol x fem reader
genre: smut
synopsis: your friend hurt his ankle in his dance class and needs you to help him to do the basic things. what you didn't know it's that you gonna need to give more than just a hand.
warnings: long ass built-up, i think that's the longest smut i've ever done, nursing student yn, sub cheol, dom service reader, cheol from the last live type of image, unproctect sex (be safe y'all!!! that's just fiction), oral m receiving, fingering, handjob, voyeurism, praise and use of the word slut
a/n: last one of the year!!! planning some things for 2024, and lmk if you have any requests :))) happy holidays guys and a beautiful new year to y'all <3
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you were dozing off in front of your school books when your phone starts to ring, startling you. the number "never answer" popped up on your screen, and contrary to what it says, you click on the green button accepting the call.
"hello?"
"hello my bestest best friend"
"what do you need now, jeonghan?"
"my god, not even a 'how are you?' 'how's your day?' nothing?"
"go on, jeonghan, i do not have the patience"
all you can hear is his breathy laugh on the other side before he finally goes to the point. it seems harsh of you, but that's normal in your friendship, none of you minding this kind of treatment, knowing it's just how it is with you.
"okay... actually two things" you roll your eyes as he speaks, and thanks god he is not seeing you, because he would whine about that.
"cheolie got his ankle injured in the dance class yesterday, im taking care of him, but he keeps sighing in pain, and i dont know what to do"
"did the doctor not prescripted any painkillers?"
"i lost the recipe on the way back home from the hospital"
"well, that's seungcheol's fault for trusting you" you take a breath "ice and a generic painkiller won't be a problem if the pain aint going away"
"nice"
"and the other thing?" you ask.
"so, saturday..."
"no! no, i cant."
"let me finish it, at least!" you sigh and he goes on "saturday i have something to do during the day. dont you have like three or four hours of your day just to check on him... make sure he has something to eat, takes shower, his medicine and everything... the man can't even leave his bed"
"hmm alright. that's ok with me."
"why were you so reluctant to give in that easily?"
"oh come on, hannie... you know you. that's, by far, the easiest thing you've ever asked from me. its quite cute, actually."
"i told seungcheol to ask someone, but you know... he can be stubborn sometimes... he keeps saying he'll be ok by himself"
"what if he really wants to be alone... i wont go if he is not comfortable with it"
"he can't barely walk, yn. he needs some assistance"
"ok... just make sure he knows im going"
"i will. thank you so much, that's a huge help, really. you are the best!"
"i know"
saturday comes, and you decide to go to cheol's around 11pm. you will probably buy some takeout to make sure he eats. you've texted him a few times during the week to ask how's the recovering, and it seems its getting better. it feels like your help will just really need to be an assistance.
getting at his place, you disk the pass code on the front that jeonghan texted you beforehand. you slowly come in, letting your shoes by the door. you've been here a few times, but it's not like you are used to it.
"hello? cheol? im here" you exclaim in a way he can possibly hear wherever he is around the house, but no answer comes.
you let your things on the living room, walking carefully further down his place "seungcheol?" you say, looking around shyly.
you get near to his bedroom door that is closed. what gets your attention is the whinning coming from inside it. your eyes getting big with worry, remembering jeonghan saying how he does it when in pain.
another whine comes, a bit louder, with a groan after it "cheol? can you hear me? are you ok?" you get closer to the door, not wanting to open before he says you can. you are really worried, what if he's trying to get up alone, or even worse, if he fell down while trying it... another groan "seungcheol, can i come in? are you fine?" you try again and nothing.
you hear a gasp this time, and you just decide to go in, what if something happened? he is not answering. you open the door of his room lightly, a little squeaky leaving your month in surprise.
"yn!? fuck!" seungcheol exclaims when he catches your presence, but you close the door fast enough to cut his words. there aint no way you just saw seungcheol half naked on his bed, hand on his hard cock for your eyes to see, a vein popping up while he strokes his length. he wasn't reacting from pain, but quite the opposite.
you walk fast to the living room, not knowing what you should do, until you hear him from his room "yn, wait! wait, please!" he grunts, trying to get his body up from the bed, his pants already in place as he tries to stand up.
you hear the metal of his crutch clicking, and you run over to his door again "no, no, seungcheol, are you standing up? stay there!" your voice gets a bit higher from usual so he gets the point.
you are standing outside the closed door like a coward, your ears touching the wooden material of it, so you can hear whatever he's trying to say from inside.
"i wanna talk to you" he says "i can walk"
"no! stay there, im serious!" you exclaim again, worried that he might fall or hurt if he gets up. you hear a breathy laugh from the other side.
"are you going to stay outside or are you coming in to talk?" he says "if you dont, im getting up"
"are you dressed?" you ask and he scoffs, laughing a bit again.
"of course im dressed, yn. come in, please"
"well, you weren't before" you say it quietly for yourself before finally opening the door.
he is sitting on the edge of the bed, the crutch hanging on his side. he looks at you at his door, he cant help the look he gives you up and down, you feel your cheeks getting flushed from his stare as you glup dryly.
this happens just for a few seconds before he looks down his feet and say "im sorry, i didn't know you were coming. that shouldn't have happened"
that can just be jeonghan's fault, and you wanna roll your eyes again because of him. he told you he would make sure seungcheol was ok with it.
"so, i am sorry then. jeonghan said you were fine with me coming. i can go if you wanna be alone"
"you can stay. its not like i didn't want you here, i'd just finally have some time alone" you understand him, he is on that bed for days and jeonghan is probably not leaving his side for days. he is happy he has a friend like him but he is only human and also like his alone time too.
"i am really sorry for earlier" he says again
"lets leave that there, right? its ok" you say to him and he gives you a subtle smile "i brought you lunch" you state.
"thank you" he smiles again "i just need a shower first, then we can eat"
"alright. take your time" you say, getting on your back to walk out the room.
"hm... yn, i-" he starts but stop it quite shyly. you look back at him.
"what?" you encourage him to keep going.
"i need help to get on the bathroom" you panicked, and you hate that you let it so unworn that he immediately realizes it "no! you wont see anything! just help me walk there" you nod, relieved, going his way to help him.
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you grunt tossing over your bed again, stretching your arm to the table beside it so you can reach your phone to check the time. 2:43am. you cant sleep, you've been in bed since midnight and that's stressing you out.
you sit, laying on the heardboard, your hands going to your face, another grunt leaves in frustration. why the fuck seungcheol have to have such a beautiful cock? its literally making you lose your sleep. and its not like you have completely seen it, he was half covered with the blanket and you peak only a few seconds, but the prominent vein and perfect length can't be possibly forgotten.
the real question is, why are you even losing sleep because of some dick? you are starting to get annoyed. so you play a random podcast on your phone, hoping it will help you fall asleep. you lay again, the speakers not too loud as you close your eyes, getting comfy on the sheets.
the nice and soothing voice of all those podcast speakers sounding like lullaby to your ears. you feel your body relaxing by seconds.
a hand reaching to your thighs, caressing the naked flesh. slowly getting closer to your core until the fingers slightly crossed over your closed clit, your breath is getting stuck to your throat, "do you need help, yn?" seungcheol's voice says causing goosebumps on your skin.
"wh- what are you doing here?"
"couldn't sleep thinking about you either" he says sliding his hand under your panties "oh, you're wet already"
all you do is whine as he starts to slide his finger up and down your center. seungcheol is getting closer, his mouth setting a delicate kiss to your neck as your breath gets heavier.
"does it feel good?" he whispers on your ear when he starts to massage your clit. you're moaning, your cheeks red, not knowing how did this started at first place.
he slips a finger inside and you become a moaning mess, his name like a prey on your tongue. he kisses harder and sucks on your skin, making you clench around him. he adds another finger and you feel yourself closer to the edge.
"are you close, baby?" the nickname makes you moan his name again "then, wake up"
your clock start ringing, your eyes opening fast, startled by the sound "fuck!" you groan. you fell asleep without noticing, and it couldn't get worse than having a wet dream with him.
you hit the clock beside you, silencing its ring tone, before getting up to work, and also to clean the wet mess between your legs.
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you were able to get on campus on time for your first class of the day. you completed ignore the fact that you just met seungcheol outside in a wheelchair, chatting with jeonghan and joshua when you arrived. all the nervousness gathering around your stomach, remembering the shameless dream you had. you made it short with them, running over to your class soon.
right now, you are done for the day, at your living room table, books spread all over it, a way too common scenery for you. at least today is friday and you can have a much needed rest.
you close the notebook in front of you, resting your head on the back of the sofa, closing your eyes for a bit. you're interrupted by your phone ringing, you come closer, your eyes peaking to try seeing who it is calling.
with your phone on your hands now, your eyes get big as you look to the screen lighting with cheol's name on it. if you wait too long, the call is going to end, so you rush to answer.
"hello?" you sound unsure for some reason.
"hi, y/n? are you busy right now?"
"hmmm... not really, why?"
"you sure? dont want to bother if you are"
you wanna say yes but you are nervous, you dont know what is going to be the next words.
"i finished rehab just now and the way back is around your house, so i thought about calling. do you want to meet up?"
there it is. he wants to meet up, oh lord.
"sounds good. im a bit tired, tho. do you mind coming over?"
"it'd be the best anyways. im on my way"
"okay, bye!" you hang up, a smile on your lips. then it hits you... he is coming here. right now.
you rush to stow all your material. putting some things in place too, which wasnt hard, your house its pretty neat. you also take a quick shower, already hearing the doorbell once you come out.
as you open the door, it feels like the time stopped for a second. seungcheol is in casual clothes, baggy black jeans and shirt, a hoodie hugging his upper body, the cap of it on his head as his now long hair matches his beauty perfectly. his body is steady by the crutch on his both sides. his dimples make its way on his cheeks as he smiles to you by the door.
"come in" you say and he does, living his shoes beside yours on his way inside.
"i brought some takeout" he says as you rush to take it from his hands, leaving the plastic bag at the kitchen island.
you ask him if he wants anything to drink as he sets himself at the table. you eat it out with the beer he asked you. time going by as you chat with each other comfortably.
its kind of a new situation for you two. you first met because of jeonghan, but you've never gotten this close until now. you go out together with your other friends in common and have a nice relationship, but its the first time you two do something alone.
"i wonder why jeonghan called you to go check on me that day" he says cutting your thoughts.
"was it bad?" you laugh breathy, surprised by the sudden statement.
"no, no! its just because we have our group of friends as you know, you are in it. i was just surprised you were his choice between them"
"probably because i work on the healthy system" you say, knowing people are aware of you finishing your last year of nursing school.
"oh! you're right." he exclaims, it now hitting him.
you smile, staring at how cute his pouty lips look when he is thinking. you admire his plump lips and suddenly remember the dream you had just tonight, and then his coc- FUCK! stop! you think to yourself, that's not the time.
the silence takes the room after so much conversation and you decide to clean the table, hoping it cleans your mind too. you take the empty bags to the trash and when you go back to catch the stools left, cheol is jumping his way to the couch. hanging the crutch on the side as he signs after he sits. you laugh a bit, finding cute the way he jumped his way there to get faster, but getting worried once he sighs.
"is it hurting?" you ask, taking the cups and plates to the kitchen.
"its affordable" he laughs it out "it hurts a bit sometimes but its getting less constant" you pout even tho that's a good sign. you feel bad for him.
"is there anything i can do to help?" you say coming back from the kitchen. the table all cleaned up now.
"not really, just come sit here" is all he says, a smile playing on his face. oh my god, why is your tummy getting twisted.
you make your way to him, sitting kinda shy beside him, even tho that's your own familiar house. you stare at each other, not saying anything, you play an awkward grin to him and he smiles endearing. what's happening? you think in your head.
you coff slightly, breaking the silence "do you want a bag of ice for your ankles? is it still hurting?"
you both look down his ankles, his little stitch showing from the cirurgy he had, you grimace in empathy thinking about it and how it must hurt.
"not really"
"can i take a look?" you ask looking at him now.
"why?" he says. oh god, jeonghan is so right, he is kinda stubborn.
"im a nurse, you know..." you fight back lightly.
"not yet. you said you are on your last year still" he smirks and you roll your eyes.
"oh my god, seungcheol. are you scared or something? im not gonna hurt you" you say getting up from his side to go take a look. making his eyes turn big that you cant help but laugh "you are scared, um" you contest.
"no, i am not" he say it in a defensive tone and you laugh again. what a big baby.
in order to look at his ankle, you have to knee yourself in between his legs, as you are taking your position, you realize what a big mistake you did. you glup, going down. he's looking at you, his breath getting stuck when you moved, but he tried not to show his surprise.
you take his foot on your hands, taking care not to hurt him "is this ok?" you ask not spearing a glance.
"yes"
you look closer, seeing it slightly red, you press your thumb around it until you get on a place that makes him react, so you know where it's sore.
"hm, its not inflamed, just sore, i dont think you need ice, maybe a painkiller if it doesn't go away" you do your final words and he nods. but you cant see, so you look up at him with the lack of response and you see his adam's apple going up and down "what's the problem?" you ask.
"nothing" he says more in a whisper "can you get up now, please?"
that's when you realize, you look around and at your position in between his legs, eyes on his, and now you get it. you get up in one motion "hm- i- sorry" you say.
"for what? thank you for checking" he tries to collect himself and you have no choice but do the same.
you make your way beside him again, and when you look back at him, he has one of your cushion in his lap, you try to suppress the smirk that is threatening to show but he notices it.
"what?"
"are you seriously hard right now?" you shamelessly say and he glups "all i have to do is get on my knees? that easy?"
"yn, dont do this." he says sharply.
"what am i doing?"
"y'know im trying to end a boner right now. i could fuck but wanna do it when i can make you feel good"
what did he just say right now? "what makes you think i'll let you fuck me?" you press.
you knew what you are doing, but you are surprised that he seems to want it just as much as you do.
"you can pay back later" you say slowly getting closer, placing your hand on the cushion, looking at him for some kind of permission.
he lets his arms off of it, and you take the cushion out of the way. he really has a boner, suddenly the image of his cock coming to your mind again as you breath deeply.
he takes his hand to your face making you look up at him now, taking your hair out of the way, he places his hand on your neck. you two getting closer by seconds, your nose slightly touching before he finally kisses you.
he has the softest lips you've ever kissed. it starts slow like you dont want to lose your breath, but it feels so good that it gets intense fast. you stay some minutes making out before he finishes it biting your lower lip.
"why dont you get on the position you were before?" he says looking at you as you waste no time in getting between his legs again.
he is looking down at you, his lips in between his teeth as his hips bulk forward. you slowly get your hand on his growing bulge, that makes you eager to make him feel good.
you tuck your hand under his shirt, caressing his torso, feeling it hardening at your touch. he takes the opportunity to take his shirt off of him "take yours too, leave the bra on" he demands and you do, throwing it somewhere behind you.
he stares at your breast and feels it tightening in his jeans. you place your hand back, slowly undoing his jeans. he helps you sliding it off as well as his underwear, leaving a gasp when his half hard cock gets free. you stare at the kind of familiar view, even prettier up close. you salivate gulping down, making seungcheol's member throb at your action. you smirk and massage his tighs, not getting where he needs you the most yet.
"fucking get on my cock" he groans and you get a bit surprised by his tone so you immediately do as he says "good girl" he praises and you moan, you fucking moan. never in your life you thought you could moan by just a man's words, he's not even touching you. you press your core seeking for relief.
as you are handing his dick, you collect the pre cum, spreading it out in your hand and at his member. you start pumping it until he gets fully erect.
he gets foward on his seat and you look up at him as he gives you a cheap grin while collecting your hair. you know what he's doing and you let him. once your hair is in a ponytail in his hands, he brings his other to your chin to look at him.
"open up" he demans caressing his thumb on your lip. you open it wide, sticking your tongue out, making him laugh "you know it well, hm?" he says and you nod dumbly.
he gets your hand out, the one that has been working on his cock until now, he looked at it messy with his juices and after to you "clean it"
you're not so sure if that's what he wants but you start to lick your palm, getting the first tastes of him, licking your indicator first and them finishing it with both middle fingers as you suck it dry, humming at it. he nods, approving what you did.
"now, lace your fingers together for me" you do it and he press them on your chest, not putting any pressure, just keeping in place "if it gets too much you tap my wrist, got it?" you nod "i need you to use words"
"yes" you answer.
"good. now show me how you will do it" he says and you undo your fingers, tapping at the side of his wrist "very good" he praises again and you gasp "calm down, you will get what you need now" he says as he pulls you upper on your knees "open up again for me" you do "now suck my cock, little slut" he demands and you dont excitate to put your lips around his head.
he moans, laying on the back of the sofa again "you're so obedient, arent you?" you hum as you work your tongue around it before sucking it, finishing with a pop.
he throws his head back and you finally start to fully suck him off. he presses your scalp, starting to make some pressure needing more of you to feel good. you relax on him, letting him take control, as he fucks your mouth harshly.
you're getting out breath, tears falling down your cheeks as you moan around him "fuck" he reacts, slightly throbbing on your tongue. he looks at you as your eyes roll back at his cock reaching the back of your throat.
he pushes you off of him, a line of spit connecting your lips to his head. your chest going up and down, "get up" he demands once again, freeing you from his hands.
you're up in front of him as he reaches to your shorts, starting to unbutton it "im the only one who gets to get naked, so unfair" he says, tugging your shorts down your legs as he hands your waist making you turn around with easy, you yelp in surprise "lay your back" he says and you go down, reaching for the table in front of you. before you can see it happening, he rips your thong from you.
"seungcheol!" you exclaim and he doesn't say much, looking at the wet spot you left on it "its all wet, you ruined it, it hadn't much use anyways" he defends and you scoff. again, before you can see it, he is slapping you on your left butt cheek, you yelp as your eyes close, feeling the pain turning into heat "behave" he says and you just reply with a weak "ok".
he lets his fingers go up and down your slick as you sigh at his touch "oh my god, did you get this wet just from sucking me? such a cock slut"
he brings his wet fingers to his mouth, cleaning it dry, humming at your taste "you taste so good, i could eat you out for hours if i wasnt so desesparate to fuck you" he gets his hand back to your core, drawing circles at your sensitive clit now. your hips go up, opening space for him, melting at the feeling of his fingers on you. you moan his name, almost whispering it as you throw your head back, the pleasure getting more intense as the time goes by.
he slides a finger inside and you're already clenching on his finger. he fucks you slowly, eventually adding a second finger to scratch you out. he speeds up, curling it slightly as he reaches your spot, you moan loudly. that's better than in your dreams.
"cheol... i- please" you say breathlessly, sounding dizzy because you felt like you were.
"what's that?" he askes slidding his fingers off of you as you cry out.
"fuck me, please! i- i need you" you say it getting your hips down on him, slightly touching his bare cock with your core as he groans.
"ok, needy" for the first time, he sounds not so composed.
one hand in your hips, another one in his cock, he angles it to your entrance. you start to sit on it until you bottoms up. you relax on him, both of you sighing, adjusting yourselves at the pressure.
he undo your bra so it slides down your arms before handing your waist again, keeping you in place as he starts to fuck you. your hands getting back on the table for some stability as you hear the sound of your skins meeting. his hands leaving marks on you as you moan.
suddenly, you feel his thrusts haunting as he groans, sitting back on the sofa. his head resting and he whimpers in frustration, feeling you throbbing around him, asking for more, from the lack of stimulation.
"im sorry" you say.
"dont be sorry" he reassures you.
"what's wrong?" you ask slidding it off of you, he gasps from the loss and you turn around to look at him.
firstly, he whimpers again, looking at your bare titties for the first time. you follow his line of view, noticing him staring immediately as he's hoping to suck all of it, leaving marks there is all he wants right now.
he collects himself, meeting your eyes "my ankle is hurting from that position" he says, frustrated.
you get closer, caressing his hair back "that's ok. im sorry it hurts" you pout. he's looking up but you are so close right now, that he is trying so hard not to stare at your breast again.
"sit down on me" he says.
"will it not going to hurt you still?" you ask concerned.
"i dont know, im hoping not. i've never fuck anyone while injured before" he contests and you smile at his remark "come on, sit here" he demands again, tapping his thighs to you. how can you say no?
you do as he says, sitting on his lap, taking care not to crash with your weight in it.
"relax, baby" he says again pressing you down on him so you get his point.
you sit there, and he starts to caress your thighs, going up to your sides and back, making goosebumps appear all over your body, your core gathering your juices again. you hand his neck, bringing him to a kiss. he sneakily reaches your breast, caressing his fingers at your nipple. you whimper in between the kiss, encouraging him to do the same on the other one.
his hands are everywhere and he breaks the kiss to work his lips on your neck, it feels like the foreplay all over again and you're aching for some friction. as if he reads your mind, his hands are back on your ass, spreading it open and foward, the motion making you slide on his cock as both of you gasp, "keep going" he whispers on your ear, getting back to kiss there as you start to move your hips on him, feeling the prominent vein that you've only seen before.
he keeps going down to the valley between your tits until he greases his teeth on the left nipple, you arches your back moaning, and he does the same to the other one, taking his time on it. when he's done, he stares at his work, your nipples sensitive and red from all the sucking and licking.
"go on, ride me" he says looking now back at you.
you push your body up a little as you hand his cock back to your entrance, sliding it in easily now. you dont waste time on starting to move up and down on him. you throw your head back from the pleasure, as he admires your figure, collarbones and breast moving as you do on him, his eyes meet at where your bodies are connecting and he cant help put touch your clit.
"oh fuck" you moan it out as he works his fingers on your clit. you're throbbing around him "im so close, it feels so good, cheol" you say whimpering and he grunts, encouraging you to keep going as his high is close too.
you throw yourself on him, your face getting buried on his shoulders now, your thrusts haunting with your cum approaching. he senses it, handing your waist once again, applying force to help you with it.
"fuck, im gonna cum" you announce, slightly biting his skin, that's the ending point for him as he feels his high coming.
"where can i cum?" he askes you beforehand as you desesparate repeat inside as an answer "are you sure? oh- fuck" he's holding in, but he needs to make sure.
"please, please, cum inside" you whine and thats enough for him to let it go, he's cumming before you with a intense gasp after a low moan.
you whimper feeling him filling you up, making you cum right after him. you fight to keep thrusting, just to keep a bit of the friction to ride off your highs. your thighs all messy with both of your cums and so is his lap.
you stop once you're done and cant take it no more, you slide off of him, throwing yourself beside seungcheol on the sofa. eyes closed, your heads resting at the headboard, both of you panting out of breath still.
"im on the pill" you suddenly deliver those words, realizing you didn't say it before.
"fuck, i swear when im all good im gonna fuck you senseless" he spits it out, his mind wherelse. your sore pussy clench, even tho you've just got fucked by him, i guess you too are not satisfied yet. you can't wait for him to get all healed.
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