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kithtaehyung · 5 months

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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

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

Words abandon you.

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

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels.

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

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

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

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

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

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

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

“I was.”

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

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

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

It’s just not the right time.

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

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

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

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

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

All the words around you just as speechless.

Just like that, you’re gone again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And a little bit of summer rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After three months of questioning his existence.

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

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

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

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

The fuck.

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

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

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

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

…Shit.

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

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

Shit.

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

Why can’t he fucking move?

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

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue.

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

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

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

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

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

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

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

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?”

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

“Nah, come now.”

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

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

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

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now.

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

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

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

“Shit, I know.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Dude, relax, I get it.”

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.”

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

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

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.”

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

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

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

Dumbass: Incoming Call

Of fucking course.

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

“Wait, where are the—”

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

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

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.”

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

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?”

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling.

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

“Shit.”

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

“Okay, fine.”

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

Delusion is a great place to stay.

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

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

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

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

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

“Everything, Yoong.”

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

So, so far away.

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

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

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

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

“No running.”

“K.”

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

“How did that sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kidding. Only a little.”

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

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

Choosing not to say what he wants to.

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

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

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

“Do the chorus again.”

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

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

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

Done. He said it.

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame.

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

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.”

Huh. They’re gonna take that?

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

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

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

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

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

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

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

“Let’s see how it sounds.”

“K.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

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

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

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

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

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

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

Hustler: Incoming C—

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hustler: Outgoing Call

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

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

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

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

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

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

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

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

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

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else.

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

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What.

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

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

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

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

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

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

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

Oh, fuck that.

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

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

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

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

…Motherfucker, what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

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

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

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

“You gonna say anything or what?”

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

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…”

“No?”

Just hurry up and fucking do it.

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

His ex?

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

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

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

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

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

“Domestic?”

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

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

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

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

A sudden crack splits him through.

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

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard.

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

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

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think she feels all alone.”

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

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

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

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

“I’m heading out again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the run.

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

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

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

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

Unprecedented.

“You’re the best out of all of us.”

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

And they both share a drink in respectful silence.

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

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

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

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

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

“Break up with her, Yoong.”

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

“Yeah?”

“It’s over now.”

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

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

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

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

“You sure it’s over?”

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

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

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.”

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

Get rid of it? He’s been trying.

For three. Fucking. Months.

“I might.”

“…K.”

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

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

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands.

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

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

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

What time is it?

All that greets him is darkness.

Nothing new, but darkness all the same.

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean?

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

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you.

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale.

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

And the darkness pulls him back under.

Without even telling him the time.

Buzzing.

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

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

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

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages

Chim: 7 Messages

Chim: Missed Calls (3)

Holy fuck.

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

“Oh, fuck. There you are.”

“Mm.”

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

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He told you?”

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

“That it’s done.”

A hum.

“That’s very true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Knowing the answer.”

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

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!”

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

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

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

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

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.”

“K. Same time tomorrow?”

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

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

“Relax! You will like it.”

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

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

Exactly where he always ends up.

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

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

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

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

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter.

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

That sounds like fucking bliss.

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking hell.

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

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

All he wants to do is see you, too.

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

After all this time. All these days and nights.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something that isn’t broken.

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

What. No way.

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

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

Hustler: Incoming Call

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

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

“Are we… is this over?”

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

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

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside.

“Are you? With me?”

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

“No way in hell, doll.”

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

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.”

That’s okay.

Because he’s had a day, too.

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

Please keep going.

Please don’t leave him alone.

“Talk to me.”

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

You’re so good at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

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

“What did he say?”

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

“Oh, thank fuck.”

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

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?”

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

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

“Me, too, baby.”

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

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

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

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

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

“For putting up with me.”

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

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

“Really?”

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

“Boo.”

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

“A ha… Yeah.”

“What are you still talking to me for?”

“I miss you.”

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

“I hate you.”

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

“Ha ha.”

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

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.”

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout?

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

“Wait, huh? Why!”

“Nothing.”

“I swear to god—”

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

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

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.”

“Kitchen.”

The hell? “How’d you know?”

“You’re always in there.”

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

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

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

“The world said let them cook.”

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

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

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

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

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.”

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

Because of you. It’s always you.

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night.

“Night, doll.”

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

Right towards the corner that stares back.

It’s been five days.

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

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

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

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

…So what in the fuck was that?

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

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

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

This is so hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonight.

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man.

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

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

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

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

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

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

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

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

“Hey.”

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

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

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

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.”

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

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

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

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal.

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

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

“Do better.”

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

“What? Who said anything about dessert?”

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

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

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

“I am.”

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

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

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

“Mm, babe. One more thing.”

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

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

“I think we’re out of condoms.”

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

“Wait. Or are we?”

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

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

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

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

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

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

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

And you want that to be the case forever.

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

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.”

“Damn!”

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

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

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

“It’s gonna happen, doll.”

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could’ve asked somebody.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

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

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

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

“Eat.”

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

“Mm.”

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

“Just a bite then.”

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

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

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

“I don’t mind.”

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

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

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

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

“Everything.”

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

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

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Yeah.”

Fuck. “About what?”

“That you’d hate me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

“Always, doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where we’re going.”

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

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

“Then why—”

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

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

“You comin’?”

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

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

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

“Yoongi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is it with him and keys?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So fucking long.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

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

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

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

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

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

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

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

“Good. You bored?”

“Huh?”

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

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

You could do this for eternity, too.

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

This man.

“Forever might be a stretch.”

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

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

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

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

“It was kinda hot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.”

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

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

“Okay.”

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

“What.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!”

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

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

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

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

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

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

“Uh huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful, doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.”

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

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.”

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

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

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

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

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

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

But team jerseys?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why me?”

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

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

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

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

Ah, you were right. “I like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

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

All you can do is stare back.

And without even realizing.

You’re already rubbing your arm.

tbc. :((

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

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

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

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baptismbaby · 7 months

Text

† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 2

mean!ellie x innocent!reader a/n: posted this to ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: toxic!ellie, corruption, virgin!reader, praise, degrading, gaslighter!ellie, belittling, strap on (r!receiving), not rlly angsty but sorta? creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the pic of ellie wc: 4k<3 part one here

You kneeled by your Bible and candles praying for forgiveness for what happened the previous night. Although you enjoyed your time with Ellie, you felt guilty for going against your own morals. You didn’t judge your friends for having premarital sex and you didn’t think you’d go to Hell over it. If so, everyone would burn and not reach paradise. But you always told yourself that you’d wait until you were married before having sex. You blamed the alcohol and the weed but a part of you believed you would’ve done it sober.

You stood up with a sigh, knowing you had promised to meet Dina for lunch to talk about Ellie’s apology. You spent all night coming up with a lie, which you also felt horrible about. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. You greeted everyone with a smile as you walked past them. You were thankful that no one knew you drank and smoked the night before.

You walked in and almost ran face first into Seth, who glared down at you. “Sorry!” you apologized, stepping past him and heading towards the table where Dina was sitting.

“Hey you,” she greeted with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”

You sat down and set your bag in the chair next to you. “I woke up with a slight headache this morning but it went away after an hour. So I guess not too bad,” you responded.

“You’re a champ. I feel much better but I woke up feeling like complete shit.”

“I guess I didn’t drink enough to get a proper hangover.”

“Which means you didn’t get drunk enough. Gotta try again!”

“Absolutely not!” you disagreed. “I don’t think I wanna drink again. It tasted horrible!”

“That’s why you get a chaser,” said Dina. “Anyways, let’s get to why we’re here.”

She grabbed your wrist and looked deep into your eyes with a smirk. “Please tell me what Ellie said! I’m so shocked she apologized. She never admits when she’s in the wrong.”

“Well, she came up there and basically told me that she felt bad for making me upset. Even though she’s always doing that,” you laughed. “But she said she realized it went too far and that really, I’m not that bad or something like that. She promised she wouldn’t make fun of me again but who knows.”

“So, are you two gonna be friends?” Dina asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know… she actually invited me over to watch a movie tonight but I think I’m gonna pass.”

“I think you should go. Ellie never invites people to her place unless it’s for a party or she’s bringing a girl home to fuck. Damn, she really feels bad then,” said Dina.

You couldn’t help but smile. Even though she wanted you to come over to fuck you again, you liked the idea of Dina believing Ellie was going out of her way to prove how sorry she was to you. You originally were going to come over and tell her you weren’t sure if y’all should continue seeing each other but it wouldn’t hurt convincing her to watch a movie.

“Maybe I will go,” you stated. “I wouldn’t want things going back to how they were before.”

Dina peeked behind you and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” she said. You glanced back to see Ellie walking in. Her hair was messy, the top half of it tied up. She wore her gray hoodie still and baggy jeans. She looked over and made eye contact with you. She fixed her gaze on Dina and made her way to the table.

“Sup, Dina,” she said.

“Hey Ellie.”

Ellie looked back at you and nodded. She walked away and sat with a dark haired woman across the room. She smirked at you before starting a conversation with the girl. You frowned, holding your head up with her hand.

“Well, she didn’t say anything to you but she acknowledged you,” Dina uttered.

You couldn’t stop staring at Ellie and the girl. “Who is she sitting with?” you interrogated.

“That’s Cat. You know Cat, she just cut her hair so she’s a bit unrecognizable now.”

You felt a pain shoot through your stomach in jealousy. “Oh, her ex?”

“Yeah. I think they’re talking again. After you left the party, she came by and they disappeared for a couple minutes.”

You felt sick. Ellie used you and knew how much it meant to you to have sex. You got up quickly, the chair scraping across the floor loudly. Ellie turned her head from across the room, staring at you in confusion.

“I-I forgot,” you said. “I forgot I was supposed to help Sadie with something for bible study.”

Dina cocked an eyebrow at you. “Sadie’s on patrol?”

You smacked your face with your hand. “Shoot, you’re right. That’s next Saturday. Nevermind. I do need to go, though. My head is beginning to hurt again. I think I need a nap. It’s starting to get busy and all the chatter is killing me.”

“You alright?” asked Dina with concern.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll take a nap and feel better.”

“Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and come by tomorrow around noon! I wanna know what you and Ellie are gonna talk about tonight.”

You said nothing to Dina, spinning around to leave. As you walked out, you could see through the window that Ellie was at Dina’s table, leaned over and talking to her. You turned away and sped up so you could get home quickly.

You stood at the mirror on your door, looking up and down at your outfit. You wore your normal baggy clothes so Ellie wouldn’t get any ideas when you went over to talk to her. You grabbed your coat as you exited the door and headed down the steps. Ellie was just two blocks over but you knew you would be freezing to death before you got there. You shoved the jacket on and started walking down the road, your thoughts running rampant as you figured out what’d you say. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ellie looked at Cat as they spoke. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about the way Ellie looked in your eyes as she hovered over you. You got close to Ellie’s home and shook those thoughts away, mumbling a quick prayer to yourself so you would stay strong and stay on track.

You knocked on Ellie’s door and waited for her to open it. You heard shuffling inside and then the knob turned, revealing Ellie in a tank top and jeans. You looked down at her exposed tattoo then back up at her face. She wore a shit-eating grin as she stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, throwing yourself on her couch in irritation.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ellie, coming to sit next to you. “Mad that I didn’t say hi earlier? Is that it?”

You scooted away from her and refused to look at her. “No,” you muttered.

“Aw, talk to me, pretty girl.”

She reached out to grab your thigh but you smacked her hand away. You stood up and towered over Ellie, glaring at her sweet face. “I-I came here originally to tell you that maybe we shouldn’t have sex again!�� you declared. Ellie leaned back, an amused look on her face. “I told myself that I would wait for marriage. My virginity was important to me, Ellie.”

“So… you’re upset that you had sex before being married?” questioned Ellie, still looking entertained about what you were saying.

“I was at first! I prayed and cried, begging God to forgive me. Mostly prayed that He’d forgive me for blaspheming Him. But now I feel stupid for losing my virginity to you,” you explained bitterly.

Ellie frowned. “You didn’t enjoy last night?” she asked in a mocking tone.

“You don’t want me. You’re talking to Cat again! And I’m angry that I was a fool to think you really wanted me. You just wanted in my pants so that you could say you made the good Christian girl go back on her morals, made her give herself to you completely! Just another thing to brag to your friends about.”

Ellie broke out into laughter. “This is about me having lunch with Cat?” She almost couldn’t believe it. You were jealous and assuming something was going on between her and Cat all because you saw them two together.

“Well, you’re sleeping with her again aren’t you?”

“No,” Ellie scoffed. “Who put that idea in your head anyway? Dina?”

“When I left the party, what happened?”

Ellie felt like she was being tested. She hated feeling that way. She only fucked you once and you were already testing her as if you two were in a relationship.

“Cat came by and we talked,” Ellie replied honestly.

“Dina said y’all left the party for a couple minutes.”

“Exactly! I wouldn’t even say a couple minutes, it was probably less than a minute.”

“What did she want?”

“Really? Why does it matter?”

“I can’t sleep with you if you’re sleeping with her too,” you said.

“You’re gonna feel really stupid when I tell you why we met up today.”

You groaned, frustrated that Ellie was making you feel this way. You wished you ghosted her instead. If she wanted her ex, fine. But she was an idiot to think she could still fuck you on the side.

“She wanted advice on how to ask out the girl she’s been seeing.”

Ellie watched as your face turned red in embarrassment.

“You feel stupid, huh?” she teased, smirking at your mortified expression.

“Don’t,” you scolded. “Don’t even… don’t go back to that or I’ll leave.”

“I’m not being mean, baby. I’m stating a fact. C’mere… I know you’re sorry. I forgive you.”

You walked over to her, your knees almost touching hers as she sat up and brushed her fingers along your arms.

“I like that you were jealous. I like that you felt dumb for assuming shit. That’s all you are, my dumb puppy,” she spoke in a low raspy voice. She actually didn’t enjoy that you had gotten jealous. All you were to her was a fucktoy. Jealousy ruins her fun. Ellie decided to let it slide for the night, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until all you can say is a string of apologies for thinking bad of her.

You pulled your arms away, sighing at the loss of her touch but wanting to stand your ground.

“I am sorry, Ellie. But it doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have sex anymore. I wanted to wait until marriage and I want to wait until marriage to have sex again. I messed up once and it’s okay but I cannot sin this way again.”

Ellie hummed, her finger lifting up your shirt slightly to stick it in the hem of your jeans. She slid it across your skin, looking up as your breathing got faster.

“But it felt so good to sin, didn’t it, baby?” she cooed.

“I refuse to confess that to you. God has already forgiven me. I mean it.”

“Then make me stop.”

Ellie started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down around your ankles. She chuckled at the sight of your soaked panties. “You want this as much as I do,” she taunted.

You watched as she pulled them back up. “But if you really don’t want to… well, I won’t make you. But it makes me sad. I had so much planned for tonight.”

You fought with yourself internally as a part of you was desperate for her to take them off again and touch you. You hadn’t moved an inch, not even to button your jeans up. They were falling down slowly, too slow for your liking.

You knew it was wrong but decided it would be okay. All of your friends do it and they’re good people. You truly believed that there was no way that they would go to hell for having sex. They were the best friends you ever had. You never judged them for it so why would they judge you?

You hesitated before you spoke up. “W-What did you have planned?”

Ellie smirked devilishly. She knew you’d give in if she made you feel bad about it. While she realized it was wrong, she didn’t care because things were going her way.

“Follow me,” she demanded. She stood up and you walked after her, feeling nervous but in a good way. Ellie stepped inside her room and you admired the walls. There were so many posters and trinkets scattered over her dressers. In one corner of the room, she had a desk with papers all over it and a guitar next to it. Ellie was digging through her closet as you inched closer to read the papers. Before you could pick one up, Ellie dropped something which startled you. You spun around to see her eyeing you closely. She had thrown something back in the closet on purpose to gain your attention. She shook her head no, her eyes squinted into a glare. You backed away from her desk, choosing to sit on the bed instead.

“Atta girl,” Ellie complimented. She made her way over to the bed with a box. She placed it in front of you on the floor and you peeked in, gasping.

“You’re gonna use all of that on me?”

She chuckled. “No, I want you to pick.”

“To put inside me?”

“For me to wear so I can fuck you properly,” she explained, her voice soft and almost condescending. She knew you had no idea what she meant and how she was going to use it. “Do you see this? It’s a harness,” she continued, holding it up to show you. “I wear it over my boxers and I’ll have whichever one you pick attached to it.”

You looked back in the box and started going through it, picking up different ones and making a face before putting it back in. “These are too big, Ellie,” you admitted. “I think it’ll hurt too much.”

“It’s supposed to hurt the first time, honey. Do you want me to take out the smallest one I have?”

You nodded and slid the box over to her. She reached in and grabbed one, passing it over to you. “It’s five and a half inches long,” she said. “Pretty average. Thick enough but not too thick. Is this okay?”

“It’s okay. Please be gentle, though,” you begged.

“What, you really think I’d be rough on you? I’m not gonna do that until you’re used to it, dummy. I’ll be real slow and gentle until you say otherwise. Although, I’ll probably keep it slow. Not sure if you deserve to be fucked hard. You did come in here accusing me of bullshit earlier.”

You pouted at Ellie, feeling that it was unfair for her to bring it up. Your pout went away though as you watched her take her shirt off. Your eyes followed her hands as she slowly unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops. She shoved her jeans off and stepped out of them. Ellie walked over to you, smirking as you stared at her in awe. “Give it,” she whispered. You handed her the dildo. “Take off your clothes, pup. You wanna be ready for me once this is put together, don’t you?”

You obliged, standing up to discard your clothes as fast as you could. Ellie laughed softly at your desperation. You were completely naked by the time the strap was ready. Ellie stepped closer to you as you pushed yourself further up on the bed. You laid back on the pillow, Ellie now hovering over you. “Such a needy girl,” she murmured. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ellie,” you breathed. She looked down at your pussy, gliding her fingers along your thighs.

“I could touch you,” she began. “But do you really deserve that?”

“Y-You bullied me for years, Els, do you deserve to fuck me?” you said slightly above a whisper. You realized what you had said as Ellie’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance. “I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You meant it,” she interrupted. “You want to be a brat now baby? Now you really have to prove how sorry you are.”

“I am sorry!” you whined. You reached up to touch her but she smacked your hand away.

“I’m pissed because I can’t fuck you how I want to. If you continue to act like a brat by the time you’re adjusted to my cock, I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. I’ll make a mess of you. A braindead little bitch with an aching cunt, crying because I won’t let you cum no matter how much you beg. Got it?”

You nodded, her threats turning you on even more. You liked when she called you a good girl but you also enjoyed the side of her that was angry with you. You couldn’t wait until you got used to getting fucked with a strap so that she could do whatever she wanted with you.

“Use your words,” she demanded.

“I got it, Ellie.”

“Good girl. You want me to continue?”

“Yes please,” you answered.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” said Ellie, going back to being soft and sweet with you. She began to press the tip of her dick to your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Does that feel good, pup?”

“Mhm!” you moaned in agreement. “S’ good, Ellie!”

“Do you want more or do you want me to put it in?”

“In,” you responded eagerly.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“If you need me to stop or go slower or anything like that, tell me,” she said as she lined her cock up with your entrance. “Are you ready?”

You nodded. Ellie leaned closer so that her face was right in front of yours to watch your reaction. She slowly pushed into you, making you yelp in pain.

“Sh, just like that baby,” Ellie whispered in a raspy voice. “It’s okay. You can take it.”

Ellie kept it inside you for a few seconds so you could adjust to the feeling before she started to thrust into you gently. You whined in both pain and pleasure, loving the feeling of Ellie’s strap inside of you.

“Good girl, you’re taking it so well.”

Ellie kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around her. Your nails dug into her back, scratching her with every thrust. Ellie rolled her hips at a steady pace, talking you through it until you reached down and tugged at her waist.

“You want more baby?”

“Please, go harder.”

Ellie went harder but still kept the slow pace, watching as your eyes squeezed shut from how good it felt. “Fuck,” Ellie moaned, the sound of your wet pussy making her throb. “You feel good, pup? Is your cunt adjusting well to my cock? Hm?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I-I want you to go-to go faster, Els. Please!”

Ellie grinned at your pleading and sped up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You moaned louder, gripping Ellie’s shoulders and crying out her name.

“Yeah? You like that, honey? Tell me how good it feels,” said Ellie between grunts.

“Fuck it feels s-so good! I’m about to cum, please let me cum!” you begged.

“Such a good little slut, asking for permission. Cum for me like the good girl you are, my good girl,” Ellie growled.

She plunged deeper into you and faster, watching your face as you squealed and whined. Your orgasm took over your body, making you scream out Ellie’s name. Ellie slowed down as you trembled beneath her.

“Atta girl,” she praised.

She pulled out of you and laid back on the bed beside you, turning on her side to watch you catch your breath.

“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

You looked over at her and shook your head. “It stung at first but I got used to it. It felt really good,” you uttered between breaths.

“Good, I got a bit too carried away at the end but you seemed to enjoy it.”

You giggled. “Yeah, I did like it when you were rougher.”

“Noted,” Ellie said as she reached over to her drawer, opening it and pulling out an already rolled blunt. She lit it up and offered it to you but you declined.

“I can barely think, Ellie.”

Ellie shrugged and puffed on it, blowing it out away from you. “Suit yourself, doll.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded. “I was wondering… if maybe you could teach me how to touch you?”

“No,” Ellie said almost too quickly. “I can get myself off when you leave. You can stay until I finish this.”

“Oh, I’m not staying the night?”

Ellie shook her head no. You sighed, realizing that you had to walk home with weak legs.

“Why won’t you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

“Um, teach me how to touch you? I don’t think it’s fair I cum and you don’t,” you stated.

“I don’t do that unless I’m in a relationship with that person.”

“Well, something will come out of this probably so you might as well show me now!” you said as you laughed. You saw the confused expression Ellie made, your smile faltering. “I mean, it is going to, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to what?”

You sighed in frustration, getting mad that Ellie was playing dumb. You knew her better than that. Ellie was a smart girl but would fight her way out of admitting something she didn’t want to. You raised up and grabbed your clothes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nauseous. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “I should just go.”

“Hey, I want you to stay until I finish my joint so I can walk you out.”

“Such a gentleman, Ellie,” you spat back sarcastically.

“What was that? Did I not just let you cum on my cock after you insulted me earlier? I wasn’t going to let you but I did out of kindness. You should watch your tone with me, church girl, because I won’t be so nice next time.”

“You’re fucking me but don’t plan on having anything with me at some point?” you asked as you stood up. You tumbled a bit due to how shaky your legs were but you tried your best to not let it show. “You could’ve told me.”

Ellie scoffed. “I’m just havin’ fun. I didn’t realize you would want this to be a relationship.”

“I assumed you knew because of how I am. I’m a Christian who dates to marry,” you argued.

“Right, just like you assumed I was fucking Cat again all because you saw us sitting together. Relax, I don’t know where this will go. I like fucking you and I plan on fucking you as often as I can. Not if you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way, though.”

You rolled your eyes and started to get dressed. Ellie continued to smoke her joint while she observed you. “I already know you’re gonna say this is the last time,” Ellie continued. “But you’ll come back. I know you will. I think you need me.”

“What I need is to go home and sleep. I also need you to leave me alone,” you mumbled.

“When I show up to your door tomorrow night, are you really gonna turn me away?”

“Bye, Ellie,” you said as you started to walk away.

“Wait,” Ellie stood up and put her joint out. She slid out of the harness and threw it on the bed, grabbing her tank top and shoving it on as she chased after you. You were almost at the door when she jogged in front of you, opening it for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, pup,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Fuck you.”

You walked out, Ellie still at the door to watch you go. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow!”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part two

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makelemonade · 14 days

Text

how people find out you're dating them

SUGGESTIVE + IMPLIED SM*T

Alhaitham

this was definitely an awkward one with the entire group

for his birthday, he knew Cyno, Kaveh and Tighnari were all planning something for him, and it wasn’t something he could get out of. He could ignore them and leave but he knows they take birthdays seriously and he wasn’t that rude.

SO, he decides that he’d spend it with you the day before, and at night, you find yourself sneaking into his room quietly so kaveh wouldn’t hear.

There were quiet giggles and laughs that turned into moans that were forced quiet by his fingers and he suggested you’d stay the entire night, thinking he’d be able to sneak you out tomorrow.

He did not think that the others would start his birthday plan in the morning.

So, 9am arrives- the first time he’s ever woken up late but it was okay because he had the day off and it was better with you laying on his chest, your finger tracing the outline of his abs.

He immediately sits up when his door is opened and lo and behold, the rest of the group is standing at the door, ready to wish a happy birthday until they saw you.

He immediately dragged the blanket to cover your body and he dragged a hand down his face while kaveh screamed “I KNEW IT!” and high-fived Tighnari while Cyno just stared absolutely shocked.

“You took bday sex too seriously.” Tighnari laughed which turned into a yelp when Alhaitham threw a pillow at him.

Ayato

hahaha…

well it was definitely a group effort.

Ayaka had become suspicious of her brother to keep secrets. Now, she knew Ayato was a private man but NOT TO HER. Never to her. They tell each other EVERYTHING. Even Thoma was becoming concerned too!

His door was always closed even if he wasn’t working, he was rushing off somewhere, he was always taking extra snacks or tea packets to his office when it’s just him in there?!

Or is it?

Obviously, thoma and Ayaka can’t barge in- well, Ayaka can, but in full honesty she did not want to walk in and find something she didn’t want to see.

So instead they got the help of Sayu! Totally better. Totally.

She did not care and agreed to help if Thoma promised he’d let her sleep an extra hour or two and he knew even if he didn’t agree she would still sleep those extra hours.

Now, the issue is- Sayu is known widely to always be hiding somewhere and no one can ever find her! Except Ayato. No matter what new spot she finds, whether it be the biggest tree or the smallest crevice or literally under a rock, he knows how to find her and no one knows how he does it.

So, when you’re in his office, sitting in his lap and playing with his hair as he does his work, he hears the slightest noise and in seconds you’re thrown off his lap with a yelp and he’s standing.

“Sayu,” He called.

It was silent for a few seconds, until above them there was a little voice. “…yeah”

You just stared shocked. How the hell did he-?!

“Come out,” he sighed, and in the corner of the room, the vent on the ceiling opened and she jumped out.

She just looked at you, not caring and then back to Ayato. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

He sighed, nodding. He was gonna ask her who sent her to spy on him and how did they persuade her given the fact she works for HIM, but he had an idea who.

So when he opened the door for her to go, his suspicions were confirmed when both Thoma and Ayaka fell onto the floor- they were leaning right against the door.

Sayu just stepped over them and left.

Ayaka looked up and straight at you, ignoring her brother glaring. “I KNEW IT!”

Childe

his coworkers are one of the deadliest and smartest people alive and he really thought he could sneak it past them.

It starts with Pierro noticing he asks for more time off, which he barely ever does. He only does for the sake of his family but he noticed how happy he gets whenever Pierro grants it.

Then pantalone notices on bill statements from childe’s card is that he is spending a lot more than he usually does. Almost everything is multiplied by 2; the food he orders, the prices have multiplied.

He also notices that he’s…buying hotel rooms? He literally has places to stay; there’s always something for the Fatui in every nation.

The one that makes him scream is a lingerie shop and he comes to 2 theories; either Childe is gay and is super kinky and has met a man or he met a girl.

He doesn’t know which one he wants it to be.

Dottore notices that whenever Childe brings in someone to be tested on, he’s super urgent to get out of there as if he has somewhere to be but before, Childe would love to see whatever fucker that messed with him suffer from Dottore’s tactics.

Capitano knows the vibe has changed in the castle. Now, he barely ever speaks with Childe but whenever Childe is in the palace and most of the Harbinhers are too, he sees the way he lightens up the cold place and one time he made Dottore laugh.

Laugh.

Signora has never once gave a shit about Childe’s life. However, his love life? Oh 100% she will be absolutely involved. So when she smells the hint of ladies perfume on him, no matter how hard he tries to wash the smell off of him, she’s immediately thinking of whoever Childe has interacted with in the last month and will come up with a list of names and rule them out.

Now, the one person who actually brings it up is the Tsaritsa. Well, she makes Pierro do it. She feels her harbinger in love- she’s the archon of love so of course she knows immediately the moment he finds someone.

At the next meeting the Harbinhers have, Pierro is forced to bring it up for his majesty’s wishes. “Tartaglia, pardon my…invasiveness,” He bites out, wishing the Tsaritsa wouldn’t make him do this, “but…have you been seeing someone?”

“CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT IT?!” Signora yelled, startling everyone and just making Childe’s jaw drop. “I smell the perfume Childe! There is someone and I have a LIST!”

“I’ve noticed changes in your spending habits and some…questionable places.” Pantalone speaks.

“How questionable?” Arlecchino asks with a grin.

“Don’t you dare say it.” Childe glared before pantalone could speak.

“Your mood has changed too.” Capitano speaks and Dottore nods his head in agreement.

“Okay fine! I have been seeing someone for the last few months.”

Signora laughs in excitement, pulling out her list. “Is it Y/N?!”

“Wha- HOW DID YOU?!”

#genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham genshin #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #childe x y/n #childe x you #ayato x you #ayato x reader

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dearhargrove · 1 month

Text

Survivors

Evan Buckley x reader

summary You're taking care of Christopher when Buck comes home, looking absolutely drained and in shock and goes straight to Christophers room. You overhear the news and make sure to care for both Chris and Buck.

word count 1639

tags pretty much episode 14 season 4, Eddie gets shot but it's not described, Buck is sad :(, Chris being the precious kid he is

a/n the way I sat there in silence when Eddie got shot is crazy. Like first they hurt us with Athena and Bobby's fight and then one second passes and Eddie (my bb) gets shot I'm so confused 😭 anyway I couldn't take it when I saw bucks reaction so I wrote a fix it for me. Also I screen recorded off of an illegal site to make gifs LMAO

masterlist

You're washing the dishes when the front door opens and closes, footsteps echoing through the hallway and living room - right past the kitchen.

“Eddie?” You call and the steps stop. Instead of the man you'd expected there's your husband, Buck. He looks distraught, eyes bloodshot and lips bitten raw. What the hell happened? He doesn't even really look at you, it's like he's looking through you. “Buck? You okay?”

He licks his lips and blinks a few times but he doesn't reply. He walks straight to Christopher's bedroom, you following after him in confusion and worry. Why was he alone and why did he look like he'd seen a ghost or worse?

He stops before entering Chris’ room, but not to wait for permission to come in but more like hesitancy. He balls his hand into a fist and takes a deep breath before walking in. You take his spot in the doorway and watch with a worried frown as Buck squats down in front of Chris who's sitting on his bed, playing a video game.

“Where's Dad?” Buck looks down and you see him swallow again before he looks into the kids eyes. “He's.. not coming home tonight, Chris.”

Chris seems almost unbothered by it but considering that Eddie had to stay in the hospital overnight almost regularly due to his job, it was a reasonable reaction. But Buck doesn't seem to think the same and shakes his head minimally.

“Did he get hurt? In a fire?” Chris inquires and Buck turns his head to the side and slowly shakes it in negation. Before explaining it he sits down next to Chris and pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. “No, not- not in a fire.” He takes another deep breath before continuing, “The truth is someone hurt your Dad.”

It's been a while since you've heard his voice so sullen and raspy from crying - probably since the last visit from his parents and that was weeks ago now. You slowly and quietly come into the room as well, standing at the foot of the bed and next to Buck with his back turned to you.

He regards you with a short glance before focusing back on Christopher, confirming his question, “Yeah, a bad guy.”

You see him reach up and wipe under his eyes, frowning in empathy as you put your hand between his shoulder blades and slowly move it up and down in hopes to calm him down a bit.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Chris asks and you're glad he did because you want to know too. Buck looks at him again and nods. “Your Dad is tough. He's a fighter.”

“He's with the doctors now? The ones that fixed you?” Chris inquires and Buck nods. You see the conflict on his face before the ten year old nods, “Then he's gonna be fine.” You hum and Buck glances your way before focusing back on Chris. Just as he's about to say something his phone pings twice and he looks down at it.

Over his shoulder you see the message as well, stemming from Bobby.

Out of surgery. Doctors say it went well.

Your heart basically drops in relief and Bucks seems to as well when his phone drops from his hand and he pretty much caves in, dropping his chin to his chest as he sniffles and exhales deeply.

You thread your hand in his hair and he automatically leans into you, resting against your stomach as he starts to cry. His hands grasp at your hips before his arms wrap around you and he sobs.

“Shh, it's okay, baby. Eddie's gonna be fine. Right, Chris? Your dad's strong.”

The young boy nods and you smile assuringly as he reaches out and wraps his arm around Bucks shoulders to pat his back. You melt at the sight and ruffle his hair which he usually doesn't like - only his dad is allowed to - but now he just looks at you with worry and confusion.

“How about you go and get ready for bed, hm?” It's not a question and it is a reasonable time for him to head to bed anyway, so he complies and slowly walks to the bathroom.

When he's out of earshot you sit next to Buck and let him fully wrap his arms around you and put his head on your chest as he cries. “H-He got shot right in front of me,” he starts with hitching breaths. “He just dropped and his blood was all over me-” he sobs deeply and you kiss his head while trying to process this yourself. He got shot?

“You couldn't have prevented it, love. He's gonna be fine. Eddie survived a lot, he's going to pull through this time, too.” Buck shakes his head and pulls back enough to look at you, blue eyes glossy and chin quivering as he gasps between another sob.

“It shouldn't have been him!” This devastates you and you cup his face in your hands, your worried expression replaced by a stern one. “It shouldn't have been anyone. Not him and not you, either. You hear me?”

He whimpers and you sigh, wiping your thumbs under his eyes and placing a long, soft kiss on his birthmark. “As soon as we can, we'll go visit him. But now you have to be strong, for Christopher. He looks up to you, if he sees you sad he'll be sad, too. Let's get him to bed, and I'll take care of you after.”

You take his hand and put it over your heart, exaggerating your breaths so he could match his and calm down. Right when he does he opens his eyes again and his frown fades enough to only be barely visible. “‘m sorry.”

The shake of your head is immediate, shutting up any further apologies. “No. It's good to let it out. I'm here so you can do exactly that if you need to. I love you, Evan. Nothing's gonna change that.”

He pulls his hand from your chest and tangles it with yours instead, gently kissing your knuckles and then your inner wrist.

He used to hate his name after it reminded him of his parents- of how they treated him. It reminds him of a life where he had to endure pain to receive love and attention.

But when you say it, it makes his heart beat faster in a good way. It makes him want to move on from his trauma or at least learn to deal with it.

And moreover it makes him feel validated. With you, he's not just Buck. He's also vulnerable, emotional and a bit cheesy. He's Evan. Evan, who's had more jobs in more cities than he can count on one hand because he was trying to find his place in the world. Evan, who likes the ocean but has been uneasy around it ever since the tsunami.

You smile lovingly and peck his forehead just as Chris comes back inside. He's wearing some dino pajamas and you ‘ohh’ at him which makes him giggle and turn as if to show off his outfit.

You move up from the bed - Buck going with you and standing at the foot of it - and untuck the bedsheets. “Get in there.” Chris grins and lays down, letting you tuck him in.

“Don't be sad, kid.” He says to Buck, who tries and fails to hide a new round of tears building up in his eyes. You had no clue where and why Chris sometimes calls Buck or even Eddie ‘kid’ but both of them seemed to love it.

“I'm just a bit worried for your Dad. But he'll be fine,” he adds the last part when you glance at him warningly, not wanting Chris to worry, and smiles. “Goodnight, bud.”

You leave his nightlight on and the door open as you leave.

Buck settles on the couch and watches as you approach and stand in front of him.

He leans back into the couch and looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that make you melt every single time he looks at you. Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

“I'm really scared. I don't know what I would do without him… when he laid there and looked at me, I-” he inhales sharply and looks at his hands, picking at his nails and reopening an old abrasion in the process.

You take his hand into each of yours to stop him and sigh, “I think you're gonna have to move from monthly sessions to biweekly, babe.” You know his therapy has been helping him a lot and you're glad he's working on coping with his trauma, but this addition is going to complicate not just his home life but also work - especially when Eddie comes back.

He groans and pulls you down until you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and his hands on your hips. “I appreciate your help, lovie, but just let me try and rest a little right now, please?”

You smile and card a hand through hair, moving to get off his lap so he could get comfortable on the couch. “Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and you're pushed onto your back before he's leaning over you, laying between your legs.

“You're gonna use me as your pillow?” You prompt and he nods, laying his head on your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck and against your pulse point. You're familiar with his constant search for proof that you're alive and well; you supposed it comes from not just the job but his abandonment issues, too.

It didn't matter to you though, as long as you got to hold him at the end of the day you'd let him maneuver you into whatever way made him happy.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #oliver stark #911 fanfic #911 show #911 fox #911 spoilers #eddie diaz 911 #eddie diaz #christopher diaz

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wardenparker · 5 months

Text

Next to Normal, part 2

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing, food. References to reader's past, trauma responses, Joel being the absolute softest and most gentle partner. Emotional vulnerability. Mutual nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Summary: In the months since you started your relationship with Joel, he has never pushed you for more. But Ellie thinks it's time to take the next step. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any typos that I might have missed. Ya girl is sleepy and there's a lot going on in life these days. This story was only going to be a one shot. And then it was juuuust going to be a two-parter. Well...this is part two of three. Stay tuned next week for the conclusion!

Read part 1 here!

Ellie fidgets at the table, frowning at the plate of breakfast that Joel put in front of her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she’s thinking hard about how to approach her question. It seems straightforward to her, but she’s learned in the last several months that he is touchy when you are the subject of conversation. He’s always in protection mode when it comes to you. She picks up a piece of unevenly toasted bread and frowns at it like it’s offended her until her eyes track back to Joel. “Are you gonna ask her to live with us?” She asks finally, knowing she doesn’t have to clarify who she means.

Joel stops with his fork halfway to his mouth, his own eggs nearly falling off as he stares at Ellie. “Why? What do you— has she—” he stops and drops the fork. “Why?” He wonders if you’ve dropped hint or if this is just the girl’s curiosity.

“That’s…what you’re supposed to do right? Like…old people style courtship?” She doesn’t really know what adult dating entails except that Joel seems to be spending every second of free time with you, and she likes you. You’re fun to have around and a lot easier to talk to than Joel or Tommy about some of the shit that she’s dealing with. “She hasn’t said anything. I just wondered.”

“Sometimes.” Joel admits, picking up his fork again and looking back down at his plate. “What do you think about that?” He tries to keep it casual, in untested waters dealing with this. He had never really dated while Sarah was young, too busy trying to keep everything together.

“She’s nice.” Ellie says, as though it was the easiest thing in the world. “And…we can trust her. That’s a hell of a lot better than some other people in this town.” In general she likes Jackson, but people are people and not everyone is trustworthy. Ellie knows that better than most. “Would you, like…marry her? Like Tommy and Maria?”

“I don’t know if she would ever want to get married.” Joel hasn’t discussed any of your past with Ellie, so she might not be aware of some of your hangups. He’s not ever even mentioned marriage just in case it might have been one of them. Not like he was a wedding vows kind of man himself. “I would. If she wanted to.”

“But you’re not gonna ask.” Ellie nods vaguely, not quite understanding why anybody bothers to get married anymore anyway. It seems like one of those things that doesn’t make sense in this world. A relic. “So…” The only part of it that still matters is safety, and the emotion behind all of it. “She could be here with us all the time, and I’d pretend like I don’t hear you doing stuff and that’s it? Like…” Her eyes tick up to Joel’s with rivers of curiosity in them. “Like a family?”

Joel snorts, amused at that comment because beyond kissing, doing stuff hadn’t happened. “Kind of like that. If she did, she would have say over what happens here.” He cautions. “Another adult to ‘ruin your life’.” He had rolled his eyes and laughed the first time she had come out with that statement. A true measure of a teenager, even in the shithole state the world was in, Joel could ruin her life.

“She’s better at it than you,” Ellie announces immediately, tongue stuck out as far as it will go. She doesn’t want to admit that you’re the one she goes to for advice most often now. Not him, not Maria, and definitely not Tommy. She goes to you, and you always answer her honestly.

“Ruining your life?” He lifts a brow and hums. “Maybe I need to ask her for tips then.” He’s joking, but it’s nice to see that she has found a mother-like figure in you.

“She’s better at advice.” The teen clarifies, not wanting Joel to think you’ve done anything wrong. “I mean…I’m not gonna ask you about girl stuff.”

Joel snorts and shoots her a grin. “Why not? I love everything about women.”

“But you aren’t one.” The exaggerated roll of her eyes calls him an idiot and she huffs. “Whatever. You should ask your girlfriend to live with us. That’s all I was saying.”

“Yeah?” He hums and shrugs. “I’ll see what she thinks. She can sew here, she does often enough.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles simply, as if she didn’t just suggest an enormous change to both of their lives as casually as commenting on the color of the sky. Ellie finishes her breakfast in three bites and pushes back from the table abruptly. “School,” she adds, before grabbing her supplies from the counter nearby.

Joel watches as she bolts out the door. Since it’s not a FEDRA school, Ellie has actually been enjoying going each day. Picking up his coffee, he shakes his head. It’s Chicory but it’s better than nothing. Expecting you in a few minutes, he finishes his breakfast in peace with your own plate still warm on the stove.

The soft knock at the door comes just minutes later, and you crack the door open to slip inside without letting any heat out. The typical place for your sewing is in a large canvas bag unless it's a delicate project, so you can move it between your house or Joel's without effort. All those years of making costumes by hand for plays and parties has truly paid off. "Joel?" The smell of breakfast is welcome and comforting, and you peak around the corner to find him sitting at the table. "I just passed Ellie on her way to school. Seemed like she was in a good mood."

He chuckles and stands up, ready to pour you a cup of the coffee that is still simmering in the percolator. “She should be.” He snorts. “Christmas is coming early, apparently.”

"Or very late, depending on how you view it." Now that spring is here and the winter is solidly behind you, Jackson is flourishing again. It seems to be affecting everyone, including Ellie. A soft murmur of thanks comes with accepting the cup of coffee he has made – Joel's is far better tasting than your attempts ever were – but you set it down on the table to step closer to him with a smile. "Good morning kiss?"

“Of course.” When you ask him for a kiss, or to hold you, he’s never turned you down. Nearly in disbelief that you are so affectionate despite the past years. He steps towards you slowly and bites his lip. “Can I hold onto your hips, beautiful girl?” Sometimes you want him to and other times you would rather he not, so he still asks where you want his hands.

"Yes, please." You're feeling brave today, maybe reinvigorated by the spring just like Ellie is, and you nod as you step closer to him so he can hold you close. Maybe it's the spring, or maybe it's months of Joel always calling you his beautiful girl finally starting to sink in. You never thought anyone could think of you that way ever again, but it seems so easy with him.

He hums softly, licking his lips and shuffling closer. You are the one who moves quickly when you feel like it, but he still treats you delicately. Not because he is afraid you will shatter, but because you deserve it.

His short hair is always the perfect place for your fingers, and your arms come up around his shoulders so you can play with the hairs on the back of his neck when he leans in. These morning moments are your favourite, if you're honest. The bright sunlight and birdsong make it seem like a romantic little cottage scene, and it makes you wish that you had had the courage in the colder months to suggest that he sleep over. Or that you sleep over his place. Even just to sleep side by side would be wonderful, but you try to be cognizant of not changing things too much on Ellie all at once.

His lips are much softer since he’s been kissing you. Not as dry. Tommy rags on him, making him roll his eyes, but he would never admit that he does put a little oil on them at night to keep them from chapping and cracking when it’s his turn to stand watch at the gates.

The domesticity of the whole thing is appealing in ways that harken back to the feeling of near normalcy that Joel gives you, and you’re smiling when you finally force yourself to lean back from kissing him. “Busy day? Or do I have you to myself until Ellie gets home?”

“Nahh.” He shakes his head. “Mud’s too thick to try to set more posts, so we are waiting for it to dry in the southern area of the community garden.” He tells you. “Since I had to pull watch last night, I’m off for the next day or so.”

“It wasn’t too bad, I hope?” Overnights are tough just for the sake of a sleep schedule, but you know Joel’s shift ended at dawn and it’s a fair few hours past that now. “Did you get a nap in?”

“Not yet.” He hadn’t wanted to sleep while you were over. Not when he could spend time with you. “I will when I get tired.” He promises.

“I would have waited until after lunch to come over.” You pout at him, rather viciously, but aren’t really upset. You just don’t want Joel tiring himself out for you.

“And I wouldn’t have slept then, either.” He grumbles at you and motions towards the stove. “Eaten yet? I made you a plate.”

“Thank you.” Though you couldn’t put a finger on when it became tradition to eat breakfast together, it has certainly become a mainstay. “I brought over a few things that I’m mending for Maria, so I have plenty of work to keep me busy.” Or not is the unspoken follow up. There are definitely days that you spend entirely wrapped up in Joel.

“That’s good.” Joel nods as he motions you towards the table and brings the still warm plate over with a small hiss when it burns one of his fingers. “It’s hot.”

“Careful!” Though how he can feel anything through those callouses on his hand, you just don’t know. “Don’t need you burning your fingers off over a plate of eggs.”

He rolls his eyes and sits down beside you with a groan. “Eat.” He tells you, pointing to the food. “Pretty sure you skipped dinner last night.”

“Not intentionally.” There had been a call for anyone available to come help out with chasing some escaped animals up on the pasture north of town last night and you had gone out to help without hesitation. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course I’m going to look after you.” He huffs off your thanks and sits back down with you, his own refreshed coffee in hand. “Ellie wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” That has you stopping with your fork halfway to your mouth. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s good.” He quickly reassures you, frowning because he hadn’t meant to worry you. He doesn’t like the scared look in your eyes, like you’re about to be punished for some imaginary wrong. “All good, I think.”

“Okay.” Dropping the tension from your shoulders is automatic — you didn’t even realize you had seized up until you were relaxing again. “What’s going on?”

“Not sayin’ we’re doin’ this, or that we gotta—” Joel reassures you to start with, knowing that you might not think that it’s a question. “But Ellie was asking me about the future, me and you.”

“We haven’t really talked about it.” For the simple reason that in this world, the future can never be determined. There’s usually no point in betting on a horse if you don’t know it will even finish the race, so a lot of people — you and Joel included — have chosen to remain undefined. Other people, people like Tommy and Maria, have held onto the old relationship conventions as a comfort in an ever changing world.

“No, we haven’t.” Joel admits. “But maybe we should. She – and me too – we were wonderin’ if maybe it’s not a bit silly that we’re trackin’ back and forth between your place and ours.”

“It’s not too much trouble, is it?” The ice cold fear in your heart is instant, and even though he had said that nothing was wrong, you can’t help the feeling of doomed certainty that the inevitable end has been reached in this otherwise happy arrangement. It was bound to come, sooner or later. Or, at least, you’ve feared that it would.

“No,” he can see that you’re still worried and he offers you his hand. Silently asking permission to hold yours and he squeezes yours gently when you slip onto into his. “We were thinkin’ that maybe you could just— live with us?” He ventures softly. “I wouldn’t— you don’t have to worry about me expectin’ anything more—” he promises quickly. “Maybe we could just, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed? If you don’t want that, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Joel…” It isn’t a great commendation of strength on your part that you start to tear up immediately, but it’s an honest reaction if there ever was one. You squeeze his hand tightly in yours for the half-second it takes you to move out of your chair and to his side. “Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course you can.” The fact that you ask him is probably due to him asking you. Or needing to make sure you won’t get in trouble on some subconscious level, but he easily stands and holds his arms open.

The crush of how hard you push into his arms to hug him exactly as tightly as you can gets a small oof out of him, but his arms come around you just as securely. “I’ve been trying to think of how to bring it up for weeks,” you admit quietly, feeling silly about that now that he’s broken the topic himself. “About… sleeping together, I mean…”

“Oh.” He’s not sure if you mean sleeping together or sleeping together, but he doesn’t ask. “You should have said something, beautiful girl.” He murmurs quietly into your neck, enjoying the way that you curl into him.

“I wasn’t sure how.” Joel is the only person you’ve been able to be completely candid with about your fears and anxieties, and if anything it has only made him more protective. But really? You don’t mind that. “But I’m feeling braver.”

“Do you like the idea?” He asks softly. “I know you have your own space and are used to it, but we can share ours. Ellie loves the idea, so no teenage pushback.”

“I had considered asking you to move in to mine,” you admit, overwhelmed tears turning to happy in an instant. “But I didn’t want to displace Ellie.”

“If you want that, we can see what she thinks.” Joel immediately offers. “But I think our place is a little bigger. And yours is closer to everything.”

“Bigger is better.” You can agree to that right away. The room you could give Ellie in your own house is too small to be comfortable. “I don’t mind being a little further away from town if I get to be with you.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles slightly at the comment and nods. “Okay. Well, we’ll get you moved over here as soon as you want.” He knows you will bring your supplies so he nods towards the little nook off the living room. “Thinkin’ that could be your little shop, unless you need more room?”

“I think it should work.” The little reading nook off of the living room has space for a chair and a desk, and even a small closet built into the wall of the house that has shelves for your supplies. “If you don’t mind sacrificing the space, I think it might actually be perfect.”

“Was thinkin’ I could make you some organizers for your cloth and threads and such.” He tells you, leaning into the idea. “The bookshelves would be good for that.”

“You’ll spoil me if you do that.” It sounds wonderful, and you prop your chin on his chest to look up at him. “But I’ll spoil you with cooking if you let me.”

“I’ll get working on them today.” He promises with a grin. His cooking is okay, but yours is amazing.

“And I’ll make us a celebratory supper.” It’s the least you can do, really, but the smile on your face is bright and wide.

“Yeah?” He grins at the idea and nods. “Do you wanna start moving stuff over? I can get Tommy to help.”

“That would be a heck of a surprise for Ellie.” And you laugh a little at the idea, enjoying the ease of it. “Leave for school just having posed the question, and come home from school to find me moved in.”

“Up to you.” Joel chuckles. “She likes the idea of a family.” He wants you to know that, that the girl wants you here with them.

"I know she isn't technically either of ours." You shrug slightly, not wanting to specifically bring up the children that both you and Joel have lost. "But sometimes it feels like it."

“We worry enough about her. Annoy her enough.” He frowns slightly. “Sometimes family isn’t always blood, but the people you wish were blood.”

"Family can be the people that you adopt along the way. Or the people who adopt you. It works both ways." The two of you sit back down again, hands twined together at the table as you slowly work your way through the modest breakfast that Joel made you. "After this I'll go back to my house and pack some things up while you go see if Tommy is able to help?"

“Sounds good.” He clears his throat and bites his lip. “I don’t expect you to do any more than we’ve established you’re good with.” He reminds you quietly. “I’m gonna knock before coming into the bedroom. In case you’re, uh, changing or something.”

"I can change in the bathroom," you assure him, putting down your fork to concentrate on the far more important conversation at hand. "Or...maybe it's time we crossed that bridge. Maybe not all the way to the other side, but...we could put off a little of the moving to have...private time? Before Ellie comes home from school?" Reminding yourself that you have been feeling braver lately is the key. Joel has proven endlessly that you are safe with him, and never once given you reason to doubt it.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks seriously. He doesn’t want you to think you have to push yourself into something you aren’t ready for because of where you will sleep at night.

"I want it, and I want to be ready for that step." Wanting is the key. Or at least you hope it is. "And I hope I know you well enough to think that you won't be upset if we reach a point that I'm not comfortable with."

“You just say the word and I’ll stop, beautiful girl.” Joel can easily promise you that. “If that’s what you’re wanting, then I guess you better finish your breakfast.”

As nerve wracking as taking that next step is, you do want to. Letting fear rule your life helps no one, and reclaiming your own strength through large and small steps is something that Joel has really helped you with. Nothing says that today has to be the day that you throw off every worry, but as you finish your breakfast you do feel absolutely certain that the decision to put one proverbial foot in front of the other and move toward intimacy with the man you’ve genuinely fallen in love with.

He lets you think about it quietly, taking his own plate and coffee cup over to the sink to start on the dishes. Knowing that despite what you might say, you could change your mind before you even finish your meal. That's okay with him. He's never pushed you, even when he's straining under his jeans and has to take himself in hand when he gets home after leaving you. He would still never push, not with something like this.

He doesn’t let you do your own dishes when you’re done eating, but he never does. Joel has deeply ingrained caretaking tendencies even if he doesn’t like to admit it. “We should…go upstairs,” you murmur, leaning against the kitchen counter beside him. “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Joel watches you for a moment and then nodes carefully. “We can. Do you— uh, want me to give you a minute?” He asks, unsure of what you want and how far you want this to go. “Let you…get ready?”

“I’d rather have you next to me.” His presence is, after all, what makes you feel safest. For this next step you’ll need that more than ever.

“Okay.” Reaching out, he offers you his hand with a reassuring nod. “You are in charge here.” He reminds you.

“I don’t really have any expectations for this except that we’ll lay in bed together and have some privacy.” But you can now fully admit that you hope to have the courage for more. “Let’s just…start there and see what happens?”

“That sounds good to me.” He guides you towards the stairs and lets go of your hand so he can let you go up in front of him. “We’ll take it nice and slow.”

The last time you were this nervous about being in a bad with a boyfriend was probably losing your virginity in high school, but there is a hell of a lot more emotional weight involved this morning than there was then. Joel means more to you than any of the others ever did, and that just makes you want this to go well even more. At the top of the stairs he’s beside you again and you slip your hand into his.

The walk to the bedroom doesn’t take long, the door open and his bed still rumpled. He’s never been a make the bed kind of guy and he bites his lip a little sheepishly. “Didn’t think you’d be up here.” He admits with a rueful grin. “Would have at least tossed the comforter over everything.”

“I like it better knowing the real you.” Your hand in his slips around his waist to keep him close.

Joel hums and walks towards it and then pauses a few feet from it. “Do you want to lay down with me, beautiful girl?”

“I feel like I should at least take my sweater off first.” The t-shirt you have on underneath it is typically worn but comfortable, and you find that today stripping off your warm sweater feels like taking off a lot more clothes than it really is.

Joel takes off his boots, but he leaves everything else on. It’s just a t-shirt and a flannel with his jeans. “Make sure you’re comfortable. What side of the bed do you like?” He’s a middle of the bed sleeper, so wherever you want is fine with him. He’ll adjust.

“The left, usually.” Being boxed in doesn’t feel particularly good to you, for obvious reasons. That doesn’t matter right now though, and you take off your own boots to leave to the side with Joel’s, socks stuffed neatly inside. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He nods and motions to the bed. “Test it out. See if you like yours better.” If you do, he will drag that damn thing down here.

You won’t, you know that, but getting into Joel’s bed with him is a surprisingly emotional moment. Without any extra preamble — only because you’re restraining yourself from babbling out of nerves — you slide under the rumpled covers and inhale a breath of the scent that is purely his. It’s infinitely relaxing, and you close your eyes for a second to revel in how right it feels. Fear has made you think it might be awkward, but no. You’re supposed to be next to Joel. This is where you belong.

Joel is slightly tense beside you. Not wanting to jostle you too much, but he clears his throat. “I’m going to put my arm behind your head. Is that okay?”

“Let’s…” looking between you, you know that Joel asks about every single action to be courteous. To be cautious, even. And while you don’t mind being delicate to him, this might be a chance to start moving past some of that hesitance. For you, too. “Let’s just say we’re going to get comfortable?” You suggest. “Asking about every single movement…it’s going to make this harder than it needs to be. So…it’s okay with me that you touch wherever you need to while we figure this out. This…how to be comfortable together.”

He huffs out a small laugh at himself and nods. “If you don’t like something, you tell me, you got me?” He tells you, raising his brows seriously. “This bed, it’s gonna be your refuge, not your prison.”

“Okay.” Nodding, you slide closer to him under the blanket and move your arm so he can slide his under your pillow if he wants to. “I’m sorry if this is awkward…”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Joel chides softly, used to hearing that when you want to pull back. “We’re just getting comfortable, that’s all.” His hand settles on your arm and he strokes his fingers over your skin lightly. “We got all the time in the world.”

Shifting even closer, you tuck yourself into his side and sigh at the bulk of him. It really is something primal in the way it relaxes you, having that broad frame of his nearby but never threatening. Sliding your arm around his waist is easy like this, and you press yourself into him comfortably. “Kinda wish I’d gotten brave enough for this ages ago,” you admit quietly.

“It’s okay, beautiful girl.” He promises, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back as you start to slowly cover half his body with your own. He pauses for just a moment before his hand ventures very sedately past the small of your back and over the swell of your butt. Giving you time to tell him no if you wanted.

Instead of hesitating it actually makes you grin, the slow and careful way that he reaches forward. Feeling admittedly cheeky, you shift your hips to wiggle your ass under his tentative fingers and end up smiling again. "It's okay, handsome," you assure him, giving him the permission that he's silently seeking. "Go ahead."

Joel groans and cups your ass firmly. “You have a great ass.” He growls softly. “Thought so from the beginning.”

"The beginning, huh?" It's something of a relief to find out that Joel was just as interested in you as you were in him early on. The first time he'd admitted it, you had literally sighed. There was a breath then, like there is now, that you didn't realize you had been holding. "I'm glad you like it."

He smirks slightly and moves to caress your ass like he had your back. “When you’re feelin’ up to it, my lips are lonely.” He teases, puckering them slightly.

It's small, and it's teasing, but it lifts so much of the tension in the room that you actually laugh and move in a little more with eagerness. If there's one undeniable truth about Joel Miller it's that he's a fantastic kisser, and you're not one to give that up when it's being offered. Especially not right now. Not when your time alone with him is both assured and indulgent.

Your lips aren’t hesitant this time. They are sure and still curved into a smile when you press them to his. Making his own laugh into your mouth that much sweeter. He wanted this to light, there’s so much heaviness in your lives, this should be as light as it can. Especially with your past. Taking the moment for the simplicity that it is.

There's something different about the taste of him this morning, like kissing Joel is somehow sweeter for the pure and simple reason that you're in bed together and nothing else. Your hand creeps up his arm and around his shoulder so your fingers can find their way into his hair, and the bubbly, joyous feeling in your chest bubbles over when you summon the courage to be the one to run your tongue along his lower lip in an open mouthed kiss. It's probably bolder than you've ever done before but the rightness of this feeling just can't be overstated.

Humming in surprise, Joel settles back slightly and lets you take charge of your kiss. Waiting to see if you would slide your tongue into his mouth or if you will leave it at just opened mouth to breath into each other. His hand squeezes your ass gently, encouraging you to do whatever you want and immediately goes back to caressing like it had before.

His hand feels huge like this, but not in an overwhelming way. In a way that makes you feel precious and...unexpectedly...a little worshipped. Up here in this bedroom nothing can hurt you, and that is another step forward in this sort of emboldening feeling that is brewing inside you. It's that burst of boldness that has you pushing into his side just a little bit more, tongue sliding into his mouth to relearn that part of him that you have explored only a handful of times before.

Joel grunts, his cock twitching and starting to harden in his pants, but he ignores it. Focusing on you as he continues to kiss you and caress you. Enjoying how you are unfurling for him.

The heat that rolls off of him in waves is intoxicating, making your head swim like it does whenever the two of you let the urge take over. It isn’t often, but it’s always good, and this morning feels even better.

The kisses are slow, languid. Pretending that time doesn't exist and every breath shared between you is suspended. He feels the way you are slowly starting to grinding on him, his thigh between yours.

Shallow, short, panting breaths are all the two of you can manage. Some gulps of air and soft, muffled moans. The floods your mind and your instincts and for the first time in over a year pleasure is what overtakes every thought, not fear.

He watches you, your eyes closed and your finger tight in his hair. Not because you are afraid, but because you are wanting more. He groans into your mouth and his hands settle on your hips, encouraging you to move if you want to with a small nudge.

It's like your mind has gone blank of everything except him, and the bliss of it is that you finally can let it go blank. The only thing you even need to know about in the world is Joel, and he is right here beside you. Half underneath you, technically. He not only wants you here with him but is actively devouring you at the same rate you are devouring him, and the freedom is nearly electric. Rocking hips have a mind of their own, and it really does take longer than you're proud of to realize that you're evening doing it. Catching yourself, you barely manage to pull back and force yourself to look Joel in the eyes through hazy vision. "Is...I didn't ask...if it's okay?"

“It’s always okay, beautiful girl.” Joel’s voice is rough, lust filled. “Whatever you want, you just do it to me.”

“I—I don’t really know what I want,” you admit, trying to catch your breathe and keep your entire body from setting on fire in his arms, but not succeeding very well. “Except…more.”

“You could let me— unbutton you jeans?” He asks as he nudges his nose against your pulse. “Use my fingers to make you feel good?”

It would be a lie to claim you hadn’t imagined what it would feel like. That you hadn’t actually dreamt about how pleasurable time with Joel would play out. While this isn’t quite like any of the scenarios you had dreamt up, it is real and it is happening right now, and you nod fiercely before pushing in again to kiss him with every ounce of courage built up inside you.

He knows this is a big step for you and he doesn’t rush it. Kissing you back while he slowly pulls his hand around your back to the front of your jeans. Pausing for a second to wait for any protest before he flicks the button open and leisurely pulls down your zipper.

He gets no protests at all, but a deep sigh bordering a moan that comes out of you with that deceptively small act of opening your pants. Your free hand slides just under the hem of his shirt, hot skin burning your fingers at first contact but only in the very best way.

“Tell me if you don’t like something,” he reminds you softly when his fingers first dip below the threadbare elastic band of your panties. “Only want you to feel good.”

Any flash of discomfort, even a small one, is too much and you lean back to find Joel’s dark eyes watching you. “Let me just take them off?” You ask quietly, not wanting to verbalize the fact that the fight pull of fabric against your skin hits a memory you don’t want to relive. As exposing as it is, naked is better.

“Whatever you want.” His hand eases out of your panties and he lays back, showing you that he’s not going to keep on.

“I want you.” The clarification is important, even as you slip off your jeans and underwear, letting them fall off the side of the bed in irrelevance. Shirt and bra are next, and even the act of shedding your own clothing — making your own choice to do this — frees another layer of fear from your shoulders. “I don’t want fear to be in the way of I can help it.”

“Do you want me to strip down?” Joel asks, wondering if you won’t like him being clothed and you naked. “How do you want me, beautiful girl?”

“How ever you’re comfortable.” Just because you stripped down does not mean that he has to. The state of your relation as always been respect and not reciprocity.

He decides that he wants to strip down too. He knows he’s not going to do anything that will make him cum, but if you’re going to live here, you should be comfortable with him.

It definitely more than you ever expected to happen today, but as Joel sheds his clothes beside you, there’s also a sense of peace in it. Reclaiming intimacy — not even sex, just intimacy and closeness — is like relieving an enormous burden that you aren’t ever sure could be lifted.

When he reaches the tired, worn out boxer briefs he is wearing, the outline of his hard cock clearly showing, he hesitates. “Would you like me to leave these on?”

A fair question, and though you hesitate for a moment, you decide firmly on, “No.” This decision to move forward together is too important to you, and it’s not as if you aren’t attracted to him. You have eyes, after all. “If you’re okay with it, I…I want to see you. Maybe…touch you?”

He groans quietly, nodding as he hooks his fingers into the band. “You can touch me wherever you want.” He promises.

He has never protested once about waiting for you to be ready. Never pressed and never pushed. Now you only hope that you won’t disappoint him when you’re actually ready to take the next step. “You can touch me, too.”

“My daddy was never good for much.” Joel starts as he slides his hands down, bringing the boxers with him. Grunting as he bends over to steps out of them. “But he taught me something that’s stuck with me.” Standing up, he looks you in your eyes. “It was about holdin’ a gun, but I guess it’s the same with holdin’ a woman.” He tells you. “Hold her like you love her. Slow and gentle, steady. That’s what I aim to do with you.”

“I—I do love you.” He wasn’t trying to get you to say it, or even saying it himself, but sitting up in his bed with a blanket around you instead of clothes…if you can’t say it now, then when can you? “You don’t have to…to say it back or anything. I just—it felt like the right time to say.”

You are sitting down, but he steps closer to you and kneels down, not wanting to tower over you to intimidate. “Baby, you should know that I— I love you.” He murmurs quietly, reaching for your hand. “Everything about you.”

"Get back in bed, Joel." Even with one of his big hands holding on to both of yours, you tug at him slightly to urge him to join you. "I...I really want to be close to you right now."

“Okay.” He groans again as he gets to his feet. “Fuckin’ knees.” He complains quietly. “Too fuckin’ old.”

“No more grand romantic gestures that involve kneeling,” you tease, pulling back the blanket so he can climb in beside you.

“Don’t worry about that.” He chuckles as he slides into the bed. “Probably the cold, but it’s been actin’ up.”

“Still.” Your arms are open to him this time, reminding yourself that there’s no need to hide. “I like you in one piece.”

This time, he is the one that is curling up to you, making sure he doesn’t seem to hover over you just in case. His cock is against your hip and he leans in to kiss you again. “You have me.”

To have it put for you so easily — that he’s yours are much as you are his — makes so much difference. It’s freeing instead of entrapping. Love rather than possession. It makes you melt into his kiss, hands grasping for him rather than being tentative about their touch. Not exactly greedy, but definitely no longer afraid.

It’s almost too easy, the way you eagerly fall into his kiss again. Your determination shining through and his hand lands on your hip again, warm and seeking. “Spread your legs, beautiful girl.” He murmurs against your lips.

It isn’t an order, but an urging that you happily agree to. Laying back on his pillows and letting him come that much closer to you, urging him to lean over your body. It isn’t looming, like he’s afraid it could be. Instead it feels like protection.

He starts at your shoulder, hands deciding they want to touch every inch of skin you will allow him. Lips kissing your chin, your jaw, just behind your ear. “So beautiful for me.” He rasps out. “So soft.”

Joel is full of endless praises, and you’ve caught yourself sometimes wondering if that’s something he does just for you or if it’s an old habit of his that goes back to the time before. It doesn’t truly make a difference, but you’ve wondered. The feeling of his hands everywhere on you could get overwhelming — or you fear that it could — but it’s just Joel. It’s the man who only makes you feel safe and protected and appreciated, and you sink down into the mattress with a sigh when his hand moves down from your shoulder. “Only for you,” you gasp out, his lips pressing the sensitive spot on your next just below your ear.

When his hand cups your breast, he doesn’t squeeze. It’s more of a massage, a gentle caress and he rubs your nipple with his thumb. “That’s my good girl.” He hums. There’s been plenty of times that you’ve gone over phrases or nicknames that might trigger you, so he’s confident that you won’t react negatively.

“Joel.” Things that seemed silly years ago aren’t so silly to you now, and the cooing softness of Joel’s usually deep, rough voice is so soothing as his work-calloused hands slide over your skin. Your far hand is tangled in the blanket as he leans over you, but the other anchors you to him instead. It explores the parts of his body you haven’t touched before — trim waist and strong thighs instead of the soft stomach and broad shoulders that you know so well. “Joel. Joel.” His name is a chant on your lips, growing shallower and lighter each time.

“That’s it.” He encourages, continuing to play with your breast until he feels your thighs press together and shift, wanting friction. “Gonna take care of you.”

It’s a promise, one you want to drown yourself in as much as you want to drown in kissing him. Deciding that you can only really do one of those things, you surge upward to press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, inviting him to devour you, too.

His hand has to nudge your thighs open again after his palm skims over your belly. Caressing it softly and he would say something, but reminding you of your past wouldn’t be right for this moment. Instead, his fingers comb through the soft curls covering you, gently working through them to slick skin underneath.

The deep sigh that emanates from you is almost revolutionary, and for the first time in longer than you care to remember, your eyes slip shut in pleasure to focus solely on the feeling of Joel’s hands on your body. Forgetting where you end and he begins was a seemingly impossible task not so long ago, but now you moan softly and shift your legs open for him even wider like a flower opening up for the sun.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” He moans, cock twitching at your surrender to the pleasure and he loves that you aren’t tensing up. His fingers slide through your folds, gathering the wetness and he starts a slow figure eight around your sex. Curling your entrance and coming back up to slide around your clit through your lips. “Feel good, beautiful girl?”

“So good.” It’s unbelievable just how good but this is part of Joel’s magic. He can just make everything else fade away. Your hips tilt up and you sigh again, sinking further into the mattress. “More, honey? Please?”

“You want my fingers inside you, beautiful girl?” He asks as he kisses down your throat. His mouth waters at the thought of suckling at your tits and he looks up at you to make sure you’re still on the same page. ‘More’ could mean just more of his rubbing your clit.

“Yes. God, please.” Nodding almost frantically, the hand that you had had tangled in his blanket comes up to grasp his shoulder and hold him close so you can kiss him endlessly.

He wants to chuckle at how desperate you sound but he just hums softly. Aware that you are actually starting to enjoy yourself. His fingers make another trip around your clit and this time, he doesn’t circle your entrance, just slowly starts to press, feeling you start to yield.

The soft moan he gets from you almost immediately makes him shiver, but you’re lost to it. Every sensation in your body has narrowed down to Joel’s touch and pushed every other thought out of your mind. Maybe he is that good with his hands or maybe it’s just how much you love him, or maybe it’s both. No matter what it is, it’s floating away with you on a cloud.

Your body doesn’t resist, you aren’t pushing him away. If anything, your hips are rolling down to meet his touch. He groans your name and nuzzles your breast with his cheek, his nose, before he finally wraps his lips around the stiff peak.

That extra burst of sensation makes you moan out loud, back arching off the bed and fingers digging into Joel’s arm to keep him from reeling back or second guessing himself. Close Is where you want him and you’re going to keep him there.

He hisses in pleasure against your breast, drunk on the sight of your eyes closed and lips parted so perfectly as you moan again. He doesn’t stop, just slowly curling his fingers up inside you to search for that pleasure spot.

Each time you moan for him is like a revelation all your own. Your body is doing all of its own talking now, rolling like waves in the ocean and pulled toward Joel’s own body like a magnet. The pull between you is so strong that when he finds your g-spot you keen and moan out his name loud enough that anyone in the house could have easily heard, but you’re too wrapped up in him to care or notice.

“That’s it, beautiful girl? That’s your spot?” He pulls off your breast long enough to crow about finding that place before he is suckling again, his fingers concentrating on that small spot just to hear you keen again.

“I—fuck—yes!” If he had asked if you even have a spot you would have said no, but he’s found it with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Like his intuitive ability to read your body language for emotions, he can read it for your pleasure as well. There’s no doubt in your mind that he could probably pluck you like an instrument of he wanted to but right now all he wants is to hear your pleasure so you do not hold back. The shock of being so vocal is one thing, but for Joel? For Joel you would repeat your yeses and moans and chants of his name for the whole world to hear.

He listens to you, feels you. Wanting to make sure that no old ghosts come between you and your goal. He moans, cock twitching and throbbing against your thigh as he continues to focus on you, ignoring his body’s demands for your own.

It might surprise him even more than it does you, when you reach for him. Your other hand had settled on his hip and was surely squeezing imprints into his flesh, but pleasure has so much taken over your mind that the slide of your hand from his hip to wrapping your fingers experimentally around the thickness of his cock makes both of you gasp.

His eyes close and he can’t help the experimental rock of his hips before he pulls himself back. Reminding himself that he needs to focus on his task.

“It’s okay.” Murmured just as soon as you turn your head, you open your eyes and place lingering kisses on Joel’s jaw. “I want to. Please?”

“Whatever you want.” Joel promises you, his dark eyes on you and alight with passion. “Just let me know what you want.”

“I want to make you feel good, too.” It is the shared aspect of the experience that makes all the difference. That one of you isn’t taking everything from the other, but that you’re sharing the moment together. That’s what makes it an act of passion and love rather than just a sexual encounter. And for you? That makes all the difference.

“You are, beautiful girl.” He promises, his fingers slick and making the most beautiful sounds as they move in and out of you.

As the pair of you devolve back into moans and sighs of each other’s names, the coil of pleasure that tightens in your belly is unmistakable. The experimental strokes of your hand wrapped around his length become surer, pace quickening, your whole body rocketing toward your own end and wanting to take him with you despite knowing that it probably isn’t going to happen that fast. It’s the haze of actual, beautiful, loving pleasure that’s settled over you like a blanket, and it’s what you want more than anything.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel is moaning his encouragement and huffing against your breast. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re on the edge. You gonna cum for me?”

It’s possible you’ve entirely forgotten how to speak with how close you are, and your eyes slip closed again when you nod almost frantically. The moan from your lips is half his name and half incoherent begging, asking for the release that is so literally right at his fingertips. That only he can give you and that you hope past hoping that you can give to him too with each stroke of your fist.

He smirks, “yeah, you are.” He coos, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re gonna cum all in my hand for me.” He can feel the way your body is tensing under him, ready for the perfect moment to break apart in bliss. “My beautiful girl’s gonna cum.”

It is as much permission as you could look for, and your body seems to know it. The bow and bend in your back sharpen as the sound is strangled from your throat, cutting off his name with a desperate cry as you fall apart for his hand.

There’s something breathtaking about the way you cry out. Body quaking and trembling, not in fear, but in rapture.

The world stands still for those few moments. There is nothing at all except bliss, and the bulk of Joel's broad body above you, and the way he twitches in your hand seeming to run in perfect sync with the spasms of your own body as you come down from the clouds.

Joel doesn’t rush you, drawing it out with the slower curl of his fingers than before, kissing up your body before capturing your moans for him greedily with his mouth. Wanting to keep them for himself as he enjoys your orgasm with you.

“Joel.” It’s more of a whisper than a cry this time, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. “Tell me what you want?”

“Touch me.” He begs. “However you want. I want you to just touch me.”

Your hand had fallen away from him to make sure you didn’t squeeze too hard and accidentally hurt him at the peak or your own orgasm. Now you touch your fingers between your thighs to wet them with your own slick and wrap your hand around his cock again, feeling it twitch with the pressure and friction. Every stroke builds on the last, wanting him to feel every bit as good as you do right now.

Your touch, this time so much more sure of itself, makes his eyes fall close and his body rolls onto his back. Your own follows him so you are draped over him like a perfectly warm blanket. “Fuck, fuck, you are so— so fucking perfect.” He moans quietly. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Praise is absolutely not lost on you, and every murmur and moan makes you work that much harder. Learning what works for him and what doesn’t isn’t difficult when Joel is so vocal, and before too long his hips are stuttering as he tries to chase the rhythm of your hand.

A shudder runs through his body, unsure if he would ever have you touch him like this. Panting as he curls his toes and his stomach tightens. “Gonna cum.” He warns you roughly.

“Show me.” You keep the pace of your movements and the same pressure with your hand and watch every movement in his body. “Let me see you, honey.”

He grunts, nodding seriously and his eyes flutter open again to focus on you. “Love you.” He knows you adoring hearing the words and he’s worked on being more vocal with you. It hadn’t helped him with Tess, he regretted not vocalizing his feelings before she died and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I love you too, Joel.” And what a hell of a morning for it to be said for the first few times. You’ll never forget a single thing about any of it. Especially not the blissful relaxation on his face just half a second after every muscle in his body tenses, that moment of explosive pleasure washing over him in an enormous wave.

In the last year, orgasms had been necessary. Functional. Something to be dealt with quickly when the need came over him. Often hurried and moved on from, but from the way you keep stroking his cock and cooing after he starts to cum, he knows you have every intention of drawing this out for him. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

The splatter over his stomach and down your hand is a beautiful sight, one that you take in greedily before laying back beside him in bed. “I love you,” you murmur again, letting yourself sigh and bask in the moment.

Joel pants, nodding as he tries to catch his breath. “Hope to hell you do.” He chuckles. “Holy shit.”

“I do.” And it rests gently in your chest like a bird happily resting from its flight. “So much.”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arm around your back and he starts to stroke it idly. “How was that, beautiful girl? Was it worth the risk?” He knows it’s cost you to expose yourself again, mentally and physically. So he doesn’t want you to regret it.

“I’ve never been safer than I am with you.” Of that, you are completely certain. And you’ve never been more certain than you are in this moment.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #The Last of US #TLoU #TLoU HBO #reader with trauma

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maddogofshimano · 7 months

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The Boss’s Date Coaching

oh baby it's another Goromi event! this one's a board game with Nishida as our protagonist

the board music was Receive You the Madtype

I thought it was kind of funny that they were squeezing another Goromi event in when her character story and past event already covered............. basically every single moment available in YK1! but that's okay.

because this one doesn't take place in YK1

as a brief aside on pronouns, I’m sticking with she/her for any references to Goromi. the term for boss Nishida uses for her, 親父, is explicitly masculine in the same way that patriarch in english is, but I’m not factoring that in for this translation

I will put a content warning that there's a brief attempted sexual assault in this, it's only a few lines and is resolved very quickly but it is there

summary: It is 2006. Goromi is waiting for Kiryu to arrive at SHINE to help out a hostess so she can (once again) surprise him. Nishida has a date coming up, and in her boredom Goromi decides she'll teach him the secrets of a woman's heart.

[2006] [After Kiryu Kazuma was released from prison….] (Tl note: the first time I completely blew past the fact that this said 2006 and not 2005. But I guess 2006 is technically after Kiryu was released from prison, so.) Goromi: ……Kiryu-chan, you're takin' so long~.

Goromi: Nishida! Are ya absolutely sure ya actually emailed him?

Nishida: Y-Yes! I'm positive I did...

Goromi: Then why ain't he come here? Nishida: Kiryu-san is… a really busy person, so… he must have gotten himself caught up in something…. (tl note: Nishida refers to Kiryu as Kiryu no ojiki, which is literally your uncle who is younger than your dad, and in yakuza terms usually means a patriarch less senior than your own. I'm going with -san for simplicity of showing he's being deferential)

Goromi: ……..Well, a burly guy like Kiryu-chan probably gets tons of invites. Goromi: But I got all this time to kill~. …Nishida, ain't there just nothin' interesting? Nishida: I-I guess so… Goromi: Kaaa~… When there's a girl this cute with nothin' to do, ya oughta be helpin' her kill some time! <phone buzzes> Nishida: …! (tl note: this is literally the first time Nishida has looked not extremely worried)

Goromi: Oh! Is it from Kiryu-chan!?

Nishida: N… No, it wasn't. Goromi: What the hell. Who's it from? Nishida: Umm… well… Goromi: …You're stallin'. Give it here! Nishida: Ah… Goromi: …"I had a lot of fun on our date on Saturday, Rina"… This is… Nishida, did'ya get yourself a girlfriend? (Tl note: it's not……….. it's not YK1 SHINE hostess and known lesbian Rina, right? it's a different Rina……. right???) Nishida: No, it's not that serious…! We just met when I went to a group-dating event the other day… Nishida: Then we emailed a little… and she ended up asking me out on a date… Goromi: Ohh~… Seems like she's into ya. What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her? Nishida: Umm… here's a picture from the group dating. Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along… I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating…

Goromi: ……… Nishida: …Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo? Goromi: …Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya. Nishida: …Y-Yeah, I think so too. I'm not even sure why she ended up contacting me at all… Goromi: ….I got it! This situation calls for me to step in and help ya, yeah? (Tl note: Goromi is using "washi" as her personal pronoun here, which is what Majima usually uses when he's speaking as a boss, or "ore". Goromi usually goes with "watashi" but does use "ore" when Kiryu catches her off-guard) Nishida: Eh? Goromi: To make sure yer date goes well, I'm gonna teach ya all about a woman's heart! Nishida: Eh… Goromi: And I've got tooons of free time right now… aren't ya lucky~! Goromi: Hang tight! This is gonna be "the heart of a woman: lesson 1"! <Goromi leaves, presumably to make slides or get props or something> Nishida: I-……… I have a bad feeling about this… Nishida: I think my boss is just… doing something absurd to me to kill time while waiting for Kiryu-san to show up… (Tl note: lol this time it was actually -san. just gotta be EXTRA formal talking about Kiryu around Goromi, I guess) Nishida: No… it's bad to assume. It's possible that my boss might honestly be trying to help me… Nishida: …She said this was lesson one on a woman's heart… How many lessons is she planning? <scene transition to later> Goromi: …I've come~! And I've brought pleeenty of booze~! (Tl note: Goromi says お・ま・た～！ which I presume is a shortening of お待たせしました as in "sorry to have kept you waiting" but omata on its own is uh. it's vulva. it's vulva and that sort of crotch area. hence my translation of trying to get some kind of weird double entendre there) <sound of a cork popping> Nishida: Wh-Why are you filling that tower of glasses with alcohol… Goromi: I thought I'd show ya how to drink. I brought a buncha different kinds. Goromi: Sake, shochu, wine, whiskey, cocktails, plum brandy, beer, take your pick! Go on, drink whatever ya want! Nishida: A-Alright… Nishida: (…Boss… did say she was going to teach me about the hearts of women… so does that mean this is a test?) Nishida: (In that case… a cocktail is probably bad… that's something a girl would pick, I think…) (tl note: NISHIDA NO DON'T LOSE TO THE TOXIC MASCULINITY) Nishida: …Boss. I'd like a whiskey and cola to drink, please. Goromi: Ohh… Whiskey, huh…? Nishida: Well then… cheers. Nishida: (The way I drink will probably also be judged… the manly way to do it is in one shot…)

<horrible gulping sounds and the glass hitting the table> Nishida: …Thank you! Goromi: Oooh, yer a big drinker, huh? Goromi: Although… did ya notice anythin' strange? Nishida: Eh? Something strange…? Now that you mention it, the taste was a little bit peculiar… <stomach noise> Nishida: My… my stomach's… Wh-What did you put in that, boss!? Goromi: Dumbass! You were so complacent ya didn't even realize that thing was fulla laxatives! Nishida: L-Laxatives!? Why did you.. guhh… Goromi: And now ya know lesson one of how women's hearts work: "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!" Goromi: If you're a man, ya gotta be cautious of anythin' that gets served to ya, cause ya could get poisoned!

Nishida: Th-That's… unreasonable… Nishida: (…I think my worries were correct… She's just using me for amusement to kill some time…) <stomach gurgling> Nishida: Ughhh… S-Sorry… gotta… bathroom… Goromi: …No can do. If ya wanna go to the bathroom, ya gotta beat up that guy. Nishida: …Eh? <footsteps> Beefy Majima Family Member: …Sorry, Nishida no aniki. Boss says I gotta.

Nishida: Y-You… Goromi: Now, after poisonin' ya, this ruffian's here to snatch your pretty girlfriend! Goromi: Nishda! Endure that stomach ache 'n win! Show Goromi-chan somethin' good! Nishida: Ughuugh… Y-Yes… boss!!!! Beefy Majima Family Member: Well… I hope you'll forgive me, Nishida no aniki. (Tl note: I did shorten that name to "beefy member" and then reconsidered)

<fight happens> <sounds of a toilet flushing> Nishida: Haa… Haa… Just in the nick of time… Goromi: Heh, ya gotta a lotta willpower to avoid havin' an accident like that, huh? Here, drink this so ya don't get dehydrated. Nishida: Ah, some water? Thank you, Boss. <drinking sounds> Nishida: …What the… it's a little bitter…? Boss, what's up with this water-- <Nishida hits the ground> Goromi: Dumbass! I just told ya, don't make it so easy to slip ya sleepin' pills like that! Goromi: …When ya wake up, I'm gonna train ya until ya can identify every kind of poison by taste. Buckle up, buttercup. Nishida: Uugh… uughhh… that's……. impossibleee…. <END PART 1>

[While waiting on Kiryu to finally arrive, Goromi learns of an upcoming date and uses her free time to instruct Nishida on the matters of a woman's heart.] [After drinking poisoned booze, Nishida has learned lesson number one, "girls don't want guys who are easily poisoned".]

Nishida: (Boss… She told me to wait outside for the next lesson on a woman's heart…)

Nishida: (This lesson comes after poisoning… What sort of terrifying part of the female psyche is she going to teach…) Goromi: I've come~ 🎶 (Tl note: yeah. yeah it's the same one. yeah) Nishida: Ah, boss. What's the next lesson going to… be? <Goromi appears with a whole army of goons> Goromi: A woman's heart: lesson 2! "Obviously I like strong men 🎶"! (Tl note: this is probably the same line she says to Kiryu about her type of man, but I'm too lazy to double check OR look up what she exactly said in english)

Goromi: A man's not a real man at all if he ain't tough! Now you're gonna tussle with these guys! Goromi: Smash up these ten opponents, and show a gal what she likes to see in a man! Nishida: No… this is… just the boss's pastime… Nishida: She said this was about a woman's heart… but this is more like training in a battle manga… Goromi: Let's get it rollin'! Get it done nice 'n quick! Goromi: Oi, everyone! No goin' easy just cause it's 10 on 1, I want everyone goin' all out against Nishida! Majima Family Members: Roarrrrrrrr!!!! Nishida: ….Crap… Guess there's no avoiding it…! Nishida: Haa… Haa… (tl note: THIS WASN'T THE OBLIGATORY FIGHT? I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE FIGHT IS THERE ANOTHER??)

<a goon slides in> Nishida: !?

<Nishida gets smacked> Nishida: Guh…! <A new goon slides in> Majima Family Member A: Haa! Nishida: Crap! <Nishida steps away> Nishida: Haa… Haa… Nishida: (When there's this many opponents… while you're busy with one guy, another will circle around behind you…) Nishida: (They're not that strong if I can take them on one by one, but I can't fight them properly when they're in my blind spots…) Nishida: (What the hell do I do…) Nishida: …..! That's it….! Goromi: …Seems like ya figured it out. Goromi: Everyone! What're ya standin' around for! Go beat the shit outta Nishida! Majima Family Member A: Y-Yes! <scene change> Nishida: Yes… right here…

Majima Member A: Oi! It's too cramped to go together! Majima Member B: Shit… this is… too narrow! Nishida: (Yes… This narrow alleyway forces them to come down it one at a time…) Nishida: (Since I don't have to keep watching my back, this negates their numbers advantage in close quarters.) Nishida: …What's wrong, come at me! Otherwise it'll be the boss that's hitting you! Nishida: …Time to go…! Nishida no aniki! Please don't hold this against me!

Majima Member D: Gahh…

Nishida: Haa… Haa… Somehow… I won… Goromi: Ya did it, Nishida! Now ya don't gotta be worried when ya get jumped by a buncha thugs!

Nishida: Um… I think I will still be worried… Goromi: Well, if they really wanted ya dead they woulda done ya in the first time you stumbled… Goromi: Eh, we'll call it good enough this time. Ya passed lesson 2 of a woman's heart, "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" ! Nishida: Th-Thank you very much… Goromi: Now, this will be the final thing I can teach you about a woman's heart… A woman's heart: lesson 3… Are ya ready? Nishida: Y…..Yes. Nishida: (Next is the final one, huh…) Nishida: (I figured that if she's just doing this to kill time, she'd get tired of these sorts of antics… but this is faster than I thought.) Nishida: (But I can't let my guard down. Lessons 1 and 2 were seriously absurd… What on earth will lesson 3 be?) <music changes to the more emotional soft track> Goromi: A question for ya. Right now… what do ya think Goromi-chan wants? (Tl note: I misread it as "what do you think of Goromi-chan" at first and was like, so scared to continue. I was shook by the possibility of Goromi emotional vulnerability momence)

Nishida: …Eh? Goromi: What's wrong? Answer already. I wanna know whatcha think I'm after. Nishida: Eh… Well… Nishida: (What do I say… The number one thing my boss would probably want is to fight with Kiryu-san.) Nishida: (But, that would be way too easy for this quiz… what the hell… what is it…) Goromi: …Figured out your answer? Nishida: ……….. Nishida: ……Sorry, I don't know. Nishida: I thought getting to fight Kiryu-san would be it, but… I'm not confident enough in that to commit to it. Goromi: …Ya got it. "I dunno" is the right answer. Nishida: Eh? Goromi: The final lesson on women's hearts: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her".

Goromi: Every woman has her own circumstances. Goromi: A woman who loves sweets can still have days where she wants something spicy, and there are women who will claim to hate what they actually like. (Tl note: .............................................................................hey when this is in direct response to Goromi's number one desire being a fight with Kiryu. there's. hmm.) Goromi: So, don't look at just one aspect of a woman and think ya know everything about her, okay? Goromi: Women are deeply complex, living beings, despite what men think. ...Got it? Nishida: Y-Yes...! I will take your words to heart! Goromi: ...Alright, good. I taught ya about the female psyche, so make good use of it on your date. Nishida: Y... Yes! Goromi: Well then, time to head back to the club. I got a feelin' that Kiryu-chan might be there soon.

<she leaves> Nishida: While the other two were obviously farces... it feels like that last one was surprisingly genuine. Nishida: Guess it makes sense, after she got tired of doing the absurd. But, that doesn't seem quite right... hmmm... Nishida: Still, something to make use of on my date... Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her" is good to keep in mind... Nishida: But "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!" and "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" are-- Nishida: Maybe not as helpful... <END PART 2>

[I'm skipping the recap lol but today's the day of the date] Rina: Hehe, I thought the same thing during the group date, but talking to you is really easy, Nishida-san...

Rina: I was really nervous to ask you out, but I'm glad I gathered up the courage 🎶 Nishida: Oh, nah... I was worried we wouldn't be that good of a fit, too. Nishida: ........ Rina: ...? What's going on? You keep looking around the perimeter. Do you have a friend here? Nishida: Ah, no... it's nothing. Sorry, it's just nerves. Rina: Ah, no worries then! Really, I thought it was cute, you looked like a baby animal. Nishida: C-Cute...? Is that so... Nishida: (I can't tell her that I'm traumatized from my boss's training, and that I'm looking for a good spot to fight a pack of thugs...) Nishida: (Or that I'm being cautious about drinking the water brought to me in case it's been poisoned...) Nishida: (The boss's lessons on a woman's heart... my body sure remembers them, huh... ha...) Rina: Ah, that's right! Listen to this! I'm not making this up, the other day at the park, I saw a squirrel-- (Tl note: I thought that was just, the end of her sentence at first. she's just REALLY excited about squirrels) <scene transition to outside> Rina: Nishida-san, your recommendation of restaurant was delicious! I'm definitely bringing all my friends there 🎶

Nishida: I'm glad. I like going there because it's fairly cheap while still being delicious. Rina: Cheap and delicious restaurants are the best. I feel like it being cheap makes it taste even better, you know? Nishida: Ah, I get you! It's really a question of mood. This restaurant here is also good. There's this pork fried with ginger and grated daikon on top-- Rina: Hehe, you sure know your eateries Nishida-san. I'll have to rely on you next time I can't decide where to go eat~. Rina: ................So...... What are you doing after this? (tl note: NISHIDA SCORES?) Nishida: Eh? Umm... What am I doing. Maybe... getting drinks? Rina: ...Could we go somewhere to rest a bit? There's a place where we can talk slow and relaxed. (tl note: NISHIDA GETS SCAMMED?) Nishida: Eh? Somewhere to rest and relax? That's... Rina: Hehe... You'll have fun if you go. Come on. <another scene transition> Nishida: This is... the place?

Nishida: (BAR, huh... The hallway to the bathroom would be good to use if I'm outnumbered...) (Tl note: yeah the bar is named. BAR. in english. which is just great for translating) Nishida: (I'm still hung up on my boss's training, it really messed me up... I'm not the protagonist of a battle manga...) Rina: What do you think? I find it very relaxing, and since it's a hole-in-the-wall kind of place there's not crowded so you can really take your time and talk. (Tl note: very funnily hole-in-the-wall is fairly direct, the jpn being 穴場 or "hole place") Nishida: Ahh, you're right, this is a very relaxing place. Rina: Yeah. ...Hmm? Nishida-san, did you perhaps think it was something naughty? (tl note: well I sure did) Nishida: N-No... I-It's nothing like that...! Rina: Hehe, no need to panic. I just said it to make you conscious of it 🎶 (Tl note: struggling with the second sentence here, it's ふふっ、慌てなくてもいいですよ。ちょっと意識させようと思って言いましたし🎶) Nishida: Eh...? Muscular Bartender: ...Are you ready to order?

Rina: For me, a kahlua milk! Nishida: Umm... How about... Barley shochu. (Tl note: 麦の水割り, which probably has a better word for it but that's my best guess) Bartender: ...Alright. Here's your kahlua milk and barley shochu. Rina: Well then, kanpaiii 🎶 Nishida: Ahh, kanpai! (Tl note: Nishida why do you say kanpai in full kanji you fucking dweeb) Nishida: (I keep thinking my boss might emerge from beneath the bar, so I'm worried about this drink being poisoned...) Nishida: (There's no way it's actually poisoned... though... hmm... there's a bitterness...) Rina: ...? Is something wrong, Nishida-san? Nishida: No... it's just, this tastes like the sleeping pills my boss made me take... Bartender: ....! Nishida: Yep... My boss made me take sleeping pills over and over, and this... tastes exactly like those sleeping pills. I don't know why it would be sleeping pills... Rina: IIII have no idea why that would be. Right, bartender? Bartender: ...Sir, we are an upstanding business. We don't take false accusations lightly. Nishida: Ah, no, I didn't even say you put them in there... Nishida: But someone could have put them in there to cause trouble for you, so the police should check the other drinks to be sure Bartender: ....Tch. Oi. <a bunch of thugs jump out> Nishida: !? Bartender: You all, this guy's making up lies about us. Shake him down for some apology money to make up for it. Nishida: No, I'm not accusing you of anything. All I'm saying is a quick confirmation-- Bartender: You all! Get him! Nishida: (They aren't listening... I'm getting the feeling that the sleeping pills weren't in there on accident.) Nishida: (I'm up against 4 opponents. If they surround me I'm done for..... that's it! I just need time.) Nishida: Rina-san! Hide in the bathroom! Rina: Uh... r-right! Bartender: Wait! Do you really want to hide somewhere with no exit? Bartender: ...What's the point...? Is he going to bunker down in the hallway... Nishida: I know there's no way out of this... Only Rina-san will be hiding. Nishida: (This narrow corridor in front of the bathroom, it'll force them to come one at a time. This is my only way to win.) Bartender: ...Heh... You went through all that trouble to run, only to go for a narrow hallway with no way out.

Bartender: You'll regret ever speaking a single false word about my drinks!!!!

Bartender: S-... stupid...

<he hits the ground> Nishida: Haa... Haa... That was close. Nishida: If I didn't make use of those tight quarters, I would have been a goner as soon as they got behind me. Nishida: All thanks to that training my boss gave me on fighting multiple opponents... Nishida: And the fact that I had to drink sleeping pilsl and laxatives so I'd know what they tasted like... that ended up being useful too. <the door opens> Rina: N-Nishida-san... are you okay? ...Eh!? You... beat all of them? Nishida: Yeah... somehow, I managed it. I think we should get out of here before they wake up. Rina: Umm, no... I'm... Nishida: ....? What's wrong? Rina: I-It's... it's nothing... L-Let's go. <back outside> Rina: ...Yeah, I had no idea it was that kind of establishment. I really never thought they would attack you and try to take your money...

Nishida: ...Hey, Rina-san. Earlier, why did you want to stay in the bar? Rina: Eh... th-that's... well... Nishida: ......... Nishida: ............If... If you're... an accomplice to that bar, it would be a good idea to stop doing that. Nishida: If you keep it up... I think you'll end up in a really bad situation some day. Rina: .....That's my choice, isn't it? Nishida: Eh...? Rina: ...Don't start talking like you're my boyfriend after one date! All you are to me is a source of revenue! Nishida: R-...Rina-san? Rina: It was me, I'm working with that bar, I took you there specifically to fuck you over! So? Happy now!? Rina: And now you've ceased to be useful to me. ...Never contact me again. <she leaves> Nishida: R-Rina-san... Nishida: ...I thought she was nice girl, too... Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", huh. It's exactly like my boss said. Nishida: Boss... There's no way you expected all of this to happen, right...? Nishida: Rina-san went back to the store. I wonder... does she plan on doing the same thing again? Nishida: ............. <END PART 3>

Bartender: Shit... What's with that helmet bastard.... (Tl note: this is when I realized this was for real in 2006 and not a typo or a timeline mistake. which also means that Goromi hostess dates with Kiryu were a recurrent thing)

<Rina enters> Rina: .................. Bartender: So you're back... Why the fuck did you bring such a huge pain in the ass here? Rina: ......I already told you, this is was the last time. I'm done. Erase the photo of Keiko from your phone. (Tl note: name is 恵子 which has multiple readings) Bartender: What was that? Rina: The nude photo you took of Keiko and blackmailed me with! You said you'd erase it if I brought 10 people here! Bartender: Ain't happening. I didn't get any cash from that last one. You gotta do it again. Rina: That's bullshit! You all messed up, not me! Rina: If you try to make me do any more I'm going to the police, so hurry up and delete the photo already! Bartender: You really want your bestie's nude erased, huh. If so... going to the cops is going to be a problem. Bartender: So... <another goon slides in> Rina: !?

Bartender: I'll just have to get a photo of you next, so that doesn't happen. <goon grabs her> Rina: L-Let go...! Bartender: Just some nudity won't be enough for opposing me. We'll make an extra hard video... heheh. Rina: N-.... No-- <the door slams open> Bartender: !? <a punch lands> Strong looking man: Guh...

<he hits the floor> Nishida: ...I heard what you said. Rina-san, you did this all to help your friend.

Rina: N-Nishida-san... Why did you come here? Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", that's what my boss taught me. Nishida: It was a really horrible feeling, when I thought I had been betrayed by a girl who seemed nice and kind. Rina: ........ Nishida: But, at the same time I had another thought. Fucking me over was just one aspect of you. Nishida: So I came here to see the whole picture and be able to understand it. Nishida: ...I'm glad I believed what my boss taught me. I would have regretted it if I left the situation alone, thinking I understood it. Rina: Nishida-san... Bartender: Heh, I get to see some cheap melodrama. It's real convenient you came back here, shithead.

Bartender: I was careless last time, but it won't happen again. You're going to regret coming back to rescue that woman!!!! Nishida: (This time I won't be able to make use of the bathroom hallway.) Nishida: (So far I've been able to scrape by thanks to my boss's special training...) Nishida: (But I wasn't taught anything for this situation. This will be a test of my own strength!) Nishida: I may not have any help from my boss, but... I will protect Rina-san, with my own power!

Bartender: Fuck... er...

<he hits the floor> Nishida: Haa... Haa... I... won... <Nishida also hits the floor> Rina: N-Nishida-san! <and he's back up> Nishida: ...I'll be fine... Quick, go delete... your friend's photo from his phone, please. Rina: Ah, r-right! <scene transition, police sirens wail> Nishida: ...Sounds like the cops are coming. Rina: Seems so. I'm... going to tell the police everything. I'm not going to run from my punishment. Nishida: You only did it because you were being threatened... I'm sure the punishment won't be that harsh.

Rina: ...Nishida-san. <she hugs him> Nishida: ...!

Rina: ...Thank you. Rina: My boyfriend is going to be mad that I'm saying this, but... you looked really hot... seriously, thank you. (Tl note: ohhhhhhhh I knew this wouldn't work out but RIP Nishida. he never scored) Nishida: Eh... <outside now> Nishida: ...Well, I guess she really has a boyfriend.

Nishida: But, it's fine. It's not like this kind of thing is about dating. Majima Family Member: Oh! Nishida! Are you okay!? I've been worried sick! Nishida: ...Eh? Wh-What? Majima Member: Lately, there's been a lot of nasty sleep-robbery bars. There was this picture of a woman floating around that we're supposed to watch out for... Majima Member: Here, this woman. And someone saw you walking around with her, so I got worried, you know? (Tl note: bisexual rebound time?)

Nishida: This is... Rina-san!? I guess she did say she'd done that a lot, so it makes sense there would be rumors... Majima Member: Hold on... You already knew? Nishida: Ah, yeah... But, she's washed her hands of it all, so could you please stop circulating that photo? Majima Member: ...Well, if you don't want me to, then I guess there's nothing more to be done. Nishida: I'm glad... Um, did that photo possible get shown to our boss? Majima Member: Hm? Ah, yeah he was shown it. About 3 days ago, I think. Nishida: 3 days ago... So all those lessons about a woman's heart from yesterday were... for this. <flashback> Goromi: What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her?

Nishida: Umm... here's a picture from the group dating. Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along... I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating... Goromi: ......... Nishida: ...Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo? Goromi: ...Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya. <flashback over> Nishida: (Now I understand that reaction... Boss must've realized who Rina-san was...) Nishida: (All those lessons about a woman's heart... In the end it was what saved me.) Nishida: (Was... all of that just so... I wouldn't get sleep-robbed...!?) Nishida: ...Do you know where our boss is right now? Majima Member: The boss? Pretty sure she said something about waiting for Kiryu-san at SHINE. Nishida: Thanks. <Nishida walks off> Majima Member: H-Hey. Nishida! (tl note: RIP unnamed Majima Family Member, he never scored)

<now at SHINE> Nishida: Umm... The boss is... there!

Nishida: Boss! Thank you so much! Because I kept all of your lessons in mind, the date today went perfectly! Nishida: Boss... You knew about what Rina-san was up to, didn't you... So you secretly did all that for my sake-- Goromi: ...Ooh, Nishida! Perfect timin'! Nishida: Eh...? Goromi: Kiryu-chan just came to the club! The plan was a massive success! Goromi: That surprised look on Kiryu-chan's face... Fun conversations leading to a fun fight! I had the greatest time!

Nishida: A-Ahh! Is that so! That's really great! Nishida: So anyways boss, about what I was telling you regarding the date... Goromi: Your date? What's that got to do with Kiryu-chan? Nishida: Um... nothing I suppose... Goromi: Then why would I wanna hear about dumb shit like that? Goromi: I'm busy draftin' up a plan for my next fight with Kiryu-chan! Ya better get plannin' right away too!

Nishida: Ah, r... right... Got it. Goromi: Hehe, my blood's already pumpin'! Now, what next to entertain Kiryu-chan~! (Tl note: "blood's already pumping" is 腕が鳴るでえ which is more literally "my arm is ringing/rumbling" or "I'm itching to put my skills to use") <she leaves> Nishida: (...Well, that's fine. No matter what the truth is, I'm certain that it's all thanks to my boss that I'm still alive.) Nishida: (More importantly... I need to properly return the favor.)

Nishida: Boss! Wait up, please! I'll think of something great too! <END>

and then here's all of Nishida's various thoughts on things from the board game:

Kiryu-no-ojiki

A man known as the Dragon of Dojima who is absurdly strong in a fight. He’s my boss’s very favorite. Only as a fighter, though...

Alcohol

Drinking alcohol is a great stress reliever! But you have to be careful not to over do it. You should drink rather than be drunk.

Boss’s High Heels

My boss wore these while working at a cabaret club and turned them into a deadly weapon. Getting kicked by them would surely kill...

SHINE

A cabaret club where my boss occasionally works as a hostess. The store has a good reputation, but the customers my boss serves must have a difficult time...

Boss

My boss. Occasionally my boss puts on a dress and works as a hostess, but there’s never been any complaints. Though, would anyone really push on that...

Butterfly Necktie

The necktie I wear while working as a waiter. It may look like a ribbon, but it’s actually very common in formal settings.

Downtown Chinpira

Is this guy running shakedowns!? Bullying the weak is something only cowards do! Guys like this need to be taught a lesson!

The Majima Family A leading group within the Tojo Clan that's known for its violent conflicts. The family is a group of ruffians, I don't know why I ended up in it...

Majima Family Members

They're a violent and strange bunch, but if you take the time to really talk with them they’re surprisingly pleasant company. Well, they do still look scary...

Kamurocho

Painted in gaudy neon, it’s Japan’s number one entertainment district. The first time I came here, I was shocked at how many people there were.

and VERY FINALLY bonus stuff, namely the two cards! Goromi, the dreadful luck hostess, and Nishida, the mad dog’s errand boy.

this one was sooooooooooooooooooo long but also we got lore that Goromi was NOT a one-off event. which is so much more than I could have ever hoped for. I also love that Kiryu has apparently gotten the text from Nishida on multiple occasions and is shocked every time that Goromi is there waiting on him. and they still go on the date, every time

it’s not even rituals at that point they’re just using Nishida as a date coordinator with the flimsiest pretext in the world. this is that guy fighting the waffle house cook levels of pretext

#yakuza #rgg #rggo #Ryu ga Gotoku #ryu ga gotoku online #Goromi #Nishida #like a dragon

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ervotica · 2 months

Note

this isn’t so much specifically about rafe but i’m low-key obsessed with polycule rafe x reader x barry. especially in their dominance with her, because it feels so inherently different. on the surface, barry’s is so much softer but there’s a sinister bite to it, as opposed to rafe who affronts it, but when push comes to shove and reader needs help, she’ll go to him. like the best way to describe it is, reader feels safe with barry but protected with rafe.

yes yes this is all so true! rafe & barry even each other out and i love that for miss reader </3

barry appears outwardly softer with you, all soft touches and smearing kisses along your cute features when you crinkle your nose at him. sitting you in his lap when you’re tired and holding glasses of water to your lips when you’re thirsty so that you don’t have to exert yourself in your sleepy state— generally, barry is playful with you and very soft.

that courtesy only extends so far; you rile him up, you push his buttons in any way, there will absolutely be hell to pay. you can locate the bite to his words from a mile away, the hidden violent streak that wards you off from pushing him too much despite his leniency when it comes to his baby girl.

rafe is argumentative; he pushes back when you mouth off, dishing out as many punishments as he sees fit until he’s sure you’ve learned your lesson. he’s harder to crack than barry, more guarded with his affections, and you have to push past the way his nonchalance twinges at your heart and remind yourself that’s just how he is.

then you get into trouble— real trouble. some prissy kook girl running her mouth at a kegger and suddenly you’re hitting the bitch, breaking her nose and sealing one of her eyes shut at the very least.

you call rafe in a blind panic— you only did it ‘cos she was talking smack about him and barry, you justify, the petulant whine in your cadence vanishing and being replaced with an anxious wobble that drives rafe into action as white-hot panic seizes his own heart.

“‘s okay, baby. i know you jus’ did what you had to do. i get it, okay? ‘ve been there too many times… yeah, yeah, i’ll come get ya, little firecracker.”

you plant your ass on the sidewalk, comforted in the fact that rafe will be here any second when the girl’s boyfriend decides to run up on you. you stumble back, arms out protectively, babbling about how your boyfriend’s gonna be here any minute so he’d better quit it. he grabs your arm hard enough to bruise the soft flesh, getting in your face as he sneers about how his girlfriend was right to say those things and your boyfriend isn’t going to do shit.

you spit back that she shouldn’t have run her mouth if she didn’t want someone to shut her up, and the guy’s features contort in unmistakable rage as he rears back to… hit you?

a fist collides with his jaw before he makes it even another step, and there’s an audible crunch as the guy hits the concrete face-first. rafe stands over him, chest heaving, knuckles bruised and bloodied. the guy still makes to get up, stopped short by a boot to the rib, kicking until he stays fucking down, gasping and limbs askew on the ground.

rafe has you against his chest in an instant, hooking a shoulder beneath your armpit to press his cheek to yours and curse you for being an antagonistic little shit. but he’s softened, his hard edges melting away as he fusses over you, brushing hair back from your eyes and checking you over for cuts and bruises. you get to the car and your bottom lip wobbles, knees tucking in tightly against your chest.

“you gonna tell bar?” you sniffle, cheek smushed against your knee.

“have to, baby,” he murmurs. “he’s not gonna be mad, i promise.”

“are you mad?”

he bristles. “c’mere,” he beckons, arms open in a rare display of affection as you climb over the center console of the car and into his lap. he drags slow lines across your cheekbone with swollen knuckles. “i’m not mad, baby. i’m not pleased, but this isn’t something anyone’s gonna punish you for.”

you will the tears back, fighting the onslaught as your adrenaline drops and you sag. he hooks arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“none of that,” he says gruffly, sitting up to gauge your expression at eye level. “you’re a good girl, okay? jus’ looking out for us, yeah?”

you nod tersely, pushing into his grasp, greedily seeping up every inch of affection you can pull from him. “‘m sorry.”

“let’s go home, yeah?”

barry forgoes any lecturing when you return with one curt stare from rafe and the sight of your pouting bottom lip alone. he bundles you up and murmurs lowly against your skin as you hum and close your eyes, preening sadly. wetness clings to your eyes, pooling against the smudged black caked at your waterline.

rafe makes an entire display out of the way he relents for you, his eyes softening in worry despite the way he bristles and attempts to harden his features; one sad look from you and he’s gathering you back up for a squeezing cuddle and pressing a begrudging kiss to the crown of your skull.

“jus’ go t’sleep, kid. love you, okay?”

you know he does, but hearing him say it sends adoration roiling through your chest in a wave.

“love you more,” you whisper as he kisses right between your pinched brows, pushing you back towards barry.

“you softening old country club up, angel?” the dark haired man snorts, shucking up the duvet until it’s laid over your shoulders as you tuck your face into the juncture of his neck. you roll your eyes at the nickname.

“maybe a little,” you muse, a laugh bubbling at the base of your throat despite the sorrow that sits heavy in your bones.

“there’s my girl.”

#rafe concepts!#rafe x barry #rafe x barry x reader #rafebarry x reader #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #barry x reader #barry x rafe #rafebarry #rafe fluff #rafe x fem!reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron brainrot

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darnell-la · 10 months

Note

Hiii there! may I please request a Bellamy Blake mean and dark dom smut with !female grounder reader? An enemies to lovers thing with a lot of tension or anger and fighting m so they just give in and have hot steamy smut?💖 ty!

world count: 5,9K

pairing: Dom!Bellamy Blake x Grounder!Reader

————————————————————————

Hatred to love

Bellamy Blake’s pov

"This place is so shitty," I said as Murphy and I stepped through the overgrown woods. We've been here for let's say, 6 months, and I've never felt more used in my life. Now that the 100 of us helped the rest of the people on the ark, we can work to reduce our time away.

To top off us being enslaved, we must deal with these people we call grounders. They’re violent and dirty, and think they own the place.

“Better watch what you say before y/n hears you,” Murphy joked, making me scoff. Y/n’s the leader of these grounders and she’s a real pain in the ass. She’s always arguing and demanding things. They also protect her and do whatever she tells them to do.

“Or what? Is she gonna stab me? We have guns and I don’t think they have treatment for that,” I said as Murphy shook his head. “I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She’s cool,” Murphy said.

I rolled my eyes and stopped, annoyed that people kept saying the same thing to me. I don’t get what they see in her. She’s violent, dirty, and has the worst attitude you could possibly think of.

“She’s not cool, she’s just some girl that thinks she has a say in everything,” I said. “First of all, that girl is 20, and second, she does have the day of everything. At least around here she does, and we choose to follow them since we landed in their territory,” Murphy said.

“And if you have a problem with that, you can barge into wherever she lives, and argue with her. Hell, fight if you need. Anything to shut you up about her at this point,” he said.

“Whatever man,” I said then kept walking, trying not to stay here all day and argue about how much I despise y/n. It just pisses me off how many people tolerate her.

“You’re not gonna stop me, so save your talking,” I said to Murphy before pushing past him and a few other friends. I’ve had enough of y/n and her demands.

I walked through the overgrown forest, stumbling over sticks and rocks, thinking about if fighting y/n is the best idea.

She’s the best warrior they say and she shows absolutely no mercy. Even if I were to beat her, her people would kill me for making her surrender. I’ll have to get her alone.

As I thought of things to do, I made my way through the forest until I was finally at the grounds of the grounders. They know me, so they let me in easily which was a big mistake.

“Y/n?” I asked the guards of this small village y/n’s always at. They nodded their heads then turned around to walk towards, where I guess, y/n is.

“Y/n!” One said as we walked upon y/n reading a book that my people gave to her, to little kids. They seemed happy and like they were having fun. I think this is my first time ever seeing her smile.

“What did you come here for?” She asked. She always seems like she has a tone with me. Only me. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to walk and talk. Only for 10 minutes or so,” I lied. I have to get her away from the guards.

“Now you know I can’t do that. They always follow me. Where ever I go,” y/n said as I sighed. “I know, but, maybe they’ll make an acceptance this one time. Please,” I begged as she tilted her head.

Y/n got up and walked toward me and the guards. She said something in her language that I still haven’t learned yet, then walked passed me. “10 minutes,” she said.

“So what did you actually bring me out here for?” Y/n asked as she finally stopped somewhere a bit far from the village. “I was thinking we could fight,” I said.

“Fight?” She chuckled. “Pathetic,” she added. “What’s pathetic is that you need a whole army to fight for you,” I argued. “That’s just how we work,” she replied.

“What do you wish to fight for?” She asked, making me smirk. “If I win, you stop this boss act and I get to show people that you’re not as strong as you make yourself to me,” I said.

“And if I lose, you can keep your little act going and I’ll be very, very embarrassing,” I said as she rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh I wanted to slap away from her.

“Bet,” she said, a new word that she got from our kind as she jumped off of the log she was standing on and attacked me. I was almost unprepared but moved out of the way fast enough and kicked her back.

“Good reflexes. But not good enough,” she said as she turned and kicked my legs, causing me to fall to the ground. “Fuck,” I groaned then quickly rolled over as she was about to kick my face.

“Fighting dirty, huh?” I asked as I got up. “Nah, just want to get this over with,” she said before running towards me. She’s always been an attacker which is hard to fight against since she always makes the first move.

“Already tried?” She asked, looking down at me after giving me the worst blow to my stomach. I hate her but I won’t ever doubt again that she’s a good-ass fighter. “Nah,” I said, about to kick her legs to make her collapse but I heard a gunshot.

I quickly looked around as I stayed on the floor, hoping to see anyone but I can’t. “Y/n, get down!” I yelled-whispered because she still standing like she was in shock. She can’t be in shock right now.

“Y/n!” I yelled. She slowly looked down as her hands lifted up towards her stomach. “Did your people use their weapon on me?” She asked slowly as she pulled her hand away from her stomach showing blood.

“Ah, shit!” I said as she dropped to the floor. “No, no, y/n, you have to get up! Y-You can’t be out here. Shit! Fuck, uh, fuck. Y/n, get up!” I said as I tried picking her up, but another shot was fired but don’t hit us thankfully.

“Hood your fire dumb fucks! I made her fight me!” I yelled out so my people can stop this madness. They just fucked up our stay here. Her people will never forgive us for this.

“Bellamy, am I dying?” She asked, sounding like she was about to pass out. “Shit! No, no, you’re not dying. Just- Just stay still and hold this down,” I said as I took my shirt off, and lifted her ripped-up shirt to press down on her wound so she won’t bleed out.

“Guys, stop it! She needs medical assistance!” I yelled back as I saw her trying to break correctly and keep eye contact with me. She still seems fearless. How could I do this to her? What did I do?

“Don’t worry, she’ll get it,” an unfamiliar voice said. “But that won’t be needed for long,” they added. I looked around until my eyes landed on people in a has max suits and a dude without one. Everyone had a gun.

“W-Who are you?” I asked as I kept trying to push down on her wound. “We’ll get to talking once we get what I need,” he said then snapped his fingers. That’s when the people started making their way towards us. Towards her.

“What? No. No, back away! Back up!” I yelled but they didn’t listen. “No! No!” I yelled as two people pulled me away. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yelled, making the dude without a suit on, chuckling to himself.

As one guy went to pick y/n up, she lifted her arm and stabbed the dude in his neck causing him to fall back and bleed out.

“Get her now! We don’t have time for this!” The man said. That’s when a few people attacked her, taking her weapons and then dragging her away. They’re manhandling her while she’s screaming in pain.

“No, no! Help! Help us!” I yelled, hoping one of her people followed us so they wouldn’t completely have no eyes on her but they actually trusted me. Fuck. I kept repeating my yells until something knocked me on the side of my head.

“What is this shit!?” I yelled at the man as he threw y/n on her stomach, onto this medical chair and then strapped her down. They didn’t even patch up her wounds. She’s bleeding out and groaning in pain.

“I can see you’re not too happy. I assumed because of how you guys fought, you didn’t like each other but I see otherwise now,” he said as one sergeant pulled out some big needle that I’ve never seen in my life.

“What the- Hey! Hey, get away from her! What is that!?” I asked the man as he took a deep breath, about to tell me the most inhumane thing I’ve ever heard of.

“That needle you see is what we use to subtract bone marrow from the grounders who’ve been able to breathe on earth for hundreds of years,” he said as he sat in front of me after a guard placed a chair down.

“You see, my people can’t survive the outside but they can. People like you can too which is surprising,” he said. “We’ve been studying you guys and we finally got one of you which will help another few of my people,” he added.

“What? You’re gonna- You’re gonna fucking- No, let me go! L-Let her go! I swear to god-“ I went to say but he cut me off. “What will you possibly do?” He asked then snapped his fingers. Seconds later, his guards took me away as I yelled and demanded them to let me go but they wouldn’t listen.

Maybe an hour went by since the guards threw me into this clean and well-kept-up room. I’ve been thinking of ways to kill this man and escape. We can’t stay here.

As I was about to start my banging on the door that I’ve been doing every 10 minutes, the door swung open to two guards dragging y/n into the room by her arms.

She looked dead. My heart skipped a beat until I noticed she was alive by her whimpers. They patched her up but her blood is still leaking through her bandage.

“Here,” a third guest said as he walked through the doors and threw a medical bag at me. “Fix her up, would ya?” He said then walked out with the other two after they dropped y/n on the floor.

“Shit, y/n?” I said as I grabbed the medical bag and sped over to her. “Mhm?” She asked as I began to work on her. First I cleaned her up while keeping a conversation with her so she won’t fall asleep.

“I need you to keep talking to me, okay baby? Keep talking,” I said after watching her eyes get heavy. “Hurts,” she said right before slipping away and passing out.

“Y/n? No, y/n, stay up!” I said as I fastened my process before she looses too much blood. I’d she dies, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I made her go out, far from her guards to fight her.

I’ve always said that if I had the chance to kill her, I would but that’s a lie. Just a big fucking lie. I can’t do that to her. She’s one of the kindest, most responsible, and most thoughtful people I’ve met. I really fucked up…

“Guess I didn’t die,” I heard y/n say as she leaned up on the bed I laid her on. “Yeah, I guess,” I said as I quickly got up and walked to the side of the bed. “Hey, hey, chill out,” I said as I leaned her back to check her wound.

“Why are you carrying for me? Didn’t you want to fight me? Maybe even kill me?” She asked after slapping my hand away from her. “Hey!” I slightly shouted as I grabbed her wrist. She tried tugging away but I tugged back to get her to stop.

“Listen! You’re hurt and your people would probably kill me and think I shot you if they find your lifeless body bled out,” I said then pushed her wrist away and went back to slowly pull the big patch I placed on her.

“It sent Straight through so that’s good. I didn’t know until I started patching you up. You’ll heal within a few months but it takes a good year to get back to your normal self,” I said. “A year!?” She yelled.

“Chill, okay? I’ll take care of you and shit,” I said, making her laugh. “You? Take care of me? Yeah, it’s hard to feel comfortable around someone who got me in this situation!” She yelled at me.

“I didn’t mean to get you shot! I just want to put you in your place and-“ I tried finishing. “Put me in my place? And what is that? Ruin what I and my people had going on for hundreds of years. We were doing good with and without you,” she said.

“You need us,” I said as I leaned over her to intimidate her but she leaned up. I can tell that she was in pain but she kept a straight face because that’s who she is. She’s strong. That’s what I like about her…

“You don’t scare me, Mr. Blake, so don’t lean into my face and not do anything about-“She went to get aggressive but I cut her off by smashing my lips onto hers. She instantly stops talking. My eyes are shut but I can tell she’s looking at me with wide shocked eyes.

I slowly lifted my hand up to place my hand on her cheek but she quickly gripped my wrist, stopping me. I kept my hand up, not giving up until she slowly let my wrist go, allowing me to place my hand on her face.

Now she’s kissing me back and I can’t tell she’s probably never kissed anyone. She’s not bad or anything, but she’s flinching at new things I do like moving my tongue, she’s breathing heavily, and seems very needy.

“You done being mad at me now?” I asked as she kept her lips on mine, kissing me in want. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said as she pulled my face into hers. I did. as told and pushed her down on the bed and hovered over her.

Her small whines are the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. I love how needy, whiny, and sloppy she kisses me. How could I be so mean to someone like her? She’s perfect.

Minutes into making out with her, I went to trace my hand down to her lower body but someone started punching in codes. I quickly got off of her as she quickly leaned up, snapping out of what we were doing.

“Stay back,” I said as I got in front of the bed to cover her and defend her if they try grabbing and experimenting on her again until the door opened to Clarke. “Bell,” she said under her breath as she sped over to me and jumped into my arms.

“I thought I lost you. We thought you ran away,” she said as I placed her down, not really comfortable with her wrapping her legs around me, right after I just got through making out with y/n.

“No, no, I was just out with y/n and then these people fucking-“ I went to say but she cut me off. “What were you doing with y/n alone? How did you even get her alone without her guards?” Clarke asked like she was upset.

“That’s not the issue right now. The issue is, is that she got shot and they didn’t give her proper treatment,” I said as I walked over to y/n to show Clarke what I’m talking about.

She walked over, seeming like she didn’t really care. “I tried my best but it’s not enough,” I said. “You touch her? Aren’t you like not allowed to? She barely had a shirt on,” Clarke said, focusing on the wrong things.

“Well if I didn’t, she would have bled out, Clarke,” I said with a tone, pissed off that she’s so worried about how I’m taking care of y/n like me and her are dating. Clarke is just another girl to me. Nothing else.

“Where’s the rest?” I asked Clarke so we could end this conversation that was going absolutely nowhere. “Making sure the guards don’t try attacking the people helping the people that are caged up,” she said. They caged people here?

“They’ll explain to you. Let’s go,” she said, trying to pull me with her but I yanked my hand away. “We have to take y/n,” I said as I looked at her with a disappointed look.

“She says she’s strong right? She can get up and get home herself,” Clarke said. “Nah, I think you can,” I said, causing Clarke’s eyes to widen. “You should go,” I said then began to help y/n get up.

Clarke stormed out as I paid no mind to whatever she was fussing about. “You should have told me you had a partner,” y/n said. “She’s not,” I replied. “Doesn’t seem like it,” she said as she backed up from me.

“I can walk myself,” she said then began walking. “Wait, y/n, it’s not what you think, okay? She’s into me. I’m not into her,” I explained. “But she still felt comfortable saying those things about me. You’re clearly showing her something,” she said as she limped out of the room.

I stayed silent and still in the room, cussing myself out that I had something with Clarke. She just fucked up what I and y/n could have probably had. I should have known she’d be like this.

Before I even pressed my lips onto hers, I thought about how all the women would feel about me and y/n being a thing. Clarke was the first to come to mind since she’s the more jealous type. The others have other people so they don’t need me.

SKIP SEVERAL MONTHS

3rd persons pov

It’s been months since y/n’s been shot and she’s doing pretty well. She still works out, trains, and talks to Bellamy but she never dares to speak about what happened between them in that room.

She respected Clarke and Bellamy’s non-realistic relationship and Bellamy respect how angry she was at him. He understood how uncomfortable she could have felt in that situation once Clarke started acting a certain way toward her for no reason.

Bellamy still tried to make small moves but it never really goes anywhere. They haven’t kissed each other since that day. The furthest it’s gone is touched around her clothing to ease her into him but she can’t forget how he made out with her and seconds later, Clarke came in like they’ve been dating for years.

Today’s y/n’s birthday and Bellamy just found out that the grounders don’t celebrate birthdays since they use to lose track of times before the sky people came down.

Bellamy is currently in y/n's room, decorating the place with old birthday decorations he found around the place. They had moved into the mountain men’s home after every one of them fled with suits to go someplace else, scared that the sky people and grounders would come after them for murder.

“She’s back from hunting in a few minutes,” Murphy said as he walked into the room. “Good, and her guards won’t be sticking their noses around, right?” Bellamy asked. “Nope, so you’re good,” he said.

“You really like her, huh? What happened?” He asked as he looked around the room, seeing how much work Bellamy put into it. bellamy was the one to even set up her furniture when they moved in a few months ago.

“I don’t know. It’s like, right after she got shot, I noticed that I’d missed something about her a little too much,” Bellamy said as he sat down on y/n's bed and looked down at the ground.

“I knew you didn’t hate her. It’s easy to tell,” Murphy said. “I read this book that was published back in 2023 and they said that people tend to get more annoyed about people that care about. That’s you to y/n,” Murphy said which is definitely true.

“She’s here!” Monty and Jasper yelled through Murphy’s Walkie-Talkie. “Good luck and don’t be you please,” Murphy joked as he made his way out of the room.

Bellamy chuckled as he got up and walked to the corner of her room so that y/n wouldn't see him when she first walks in. He wants to see her reaction. He loves watching her smile.

“Why is my door open!?” Y/n yelled throughout the hallways. Dammit Murphy. “Hello?” Y/n asked before peaking around the corner to the surprise in her room.

“Oh,” she said confused but slightly amazed. She’s never seen decorations like this before. “Who did this,” she said under he breathe as she took a step into her room with a smile on her face. Just what Bellamy wanted to see. He's never seen her smile this bright.

“I knew you’d like it,” Bellamy said, making her jump a little. “Bellamy!” She shouted then covered her mouth. “You like it, right?” He asked as he slowly walked towards her. “Yes, I actually do,” she said. You could see her blushing.

“Good, because it took me a couple of hours to find everything and put it up,” He smiled down at her. “Thank you,” she said as she began to scan the place and walk around. He can tell she really loves it.

“You know, y/n. I’ve been thinking. A lot. I know we use to be enemies-“ Bellamy said but she cut me off. “You use to be mine. I never hated you but go on,” she joked.

“Yes, yes, I know,” He chuckled. “But after that day in the room, I felt something. I’ve always felt it but it never came out until then. That’s the day I couldn’t force being angry at you or having some type of hatred towards you,” Bellamy said as she turned around and he walked towards her.

“Y/n, I really like you and I’m sorry Clarke said those things about you but I don’t like her. I don’t see anything with her. But I do see something with you,” Bellamy said. He softly grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes.

“So, could we please start over? Start something with each other?” I asked. “Bellamy…” she said as she pulled her hands back. “I can’t. You and Clarke have known each other for a while. I think she’s best for you,” she said.

“But I don’t want her. I don’t feel anything for,” Bellamy said as y/n shook her head with a chuckle. “She still talks about you. She’s obsessed and loves you,” y/n said.

“She doesn’t love me. She just hates the fact that I love you and now her. I’ve never loved her. I barely ever liked her,” Bellamy said making y/n shake her head.

“Yeah, that’s not what she keeps saying. Apparently, you guys have been secretly dating for years and still sneak around at night in your room or go off somewhere where no one will see you,” y/n said, making Bellamy’s blood boil.

“And who the fuck has she been saying this shit to?” Bellamy asked. “Me, Monty, Jasper, and maybe a few other girls,” Y/n said. “Well, that shit isn’t true. She just wants you away from me, that’s all,” Bellamy said, trying to softly grab y/n hands again but she backed up towards her bed.

“Look, we can’t work out, okay? It’s not going to happen,” she said. “Why? Why can’t it work?” Bellamy asked with a tone, getting tired of excuses and other people getting in the way between him and her.

“Because Bellamy! I don’t want you! You’re too different from me,” she said. “What are you talking about? No one who’s together is exactly the same, y/n,” Bellamy said as he stepped towards her.

“You’re not for me, Bellamy so just- Just leave, Bellamy,” y/n said but he didn’t listen. “Y/n, you’re perfect for me. I love how different you are,” Bellamy said as he went to grab her waist slowly but she slapped his hands away, shocking him.

Y/n walked passed Bellamy to get out of his face since he won’t get out of hers but he quickly grabbed her from the back and pulled her away from the door.

“Let me go!” Y/n yelled at Bellamy. Bellamy threw y/n on the bed and then quickly ran over to her door, shutting and locking the door so that she’ll listen and stay where he wants her at. With him.

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, annoyed that he can’t just leave her alone. Why does he fight so much for her? Why does someone like her so much? She’s not someone who’s likable like this.

“I’m here to show you love, y/n. I fucking love you and you know that. That’s why you’re pushing me away. You think you’re gonna hurt me or some crazy shit but you’re not. What’s going to hurt me, is if you don’t accept me and love me back. I know you like my touch and presence,” Bellamy said as he made his way toward her.

“No, no, no! No, Bellamy! I-l don’t love you! I don’t!” Y/n yelled at him as she rushed her hands through her hair and rubbed her face, stressed that this is happening. She can’t run like usual. He’s got her trapped.

“Stop lying, y/n. It’s getting annoying and makes you look more pathetic,” Bellamy said, getting angry. “Pathetic!? You’re pathetic! You have to trap a woman in a room to force her to love you,” y/n said.

“I don’t have to force shit, and you know that. You fucking know it, so stop lying!” Bellamy growled at her as he grabbed her wrist tightly. “I’m tired of you fucking lying and denying. Admit it. Admit it now!” He yelled in her face, shocking her.

“No,” she firmly said, hating the dominance someone like him can show over her. She’s never felt any kind of dominance against her but from Bellamy. She can’t seem to function right with him talking to her like this.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded after letting her hand go, giving her a chance to listen. “No,” she said, once again with a tone, trying to stand her ground until Bellamy picked her up and threw her on her bed.

Bellamy kept his silence as y/n began to yell at him. He didn’t care. He wanted to shut her for once and make her submit. He wants to get rid of the lies and excuses.

“Bellamy, what are you doing!?” Y/n finally asked after noticing Bellamy’s shirt off. She’s never seen Bellamy with his shirt off. She’s seen his built-under wet clothes hut never more. This is a lot for her.

“You like the clothes I gave you in a box? They’re perfect for you,” Bellamy said, making y/n think. Murphy, Monty, and Jasper said that they gave y/n the box so she’d have the best up-kept clothes since she’s the leader of her people. Now she’s finding out Bellamy chose them all.

That explains the revealing parts, her panties, and bra that seemed a bit too pretty for Monty, Jasper, and especially Murphy to pick out for her. She knew they’d never do that.

“Y-You picked these out?” She asked, knowing the answer already. “Of course I did. Otherwise, I’d have a talk with Murphy about what he picked out for you,” Bellamy smirked at y/n as he slowly climbed onto the bed.

“Now will you finally let me taste you? I bet you’re sweet as a fresh berry,” Bellamy said as he tugged on y/n shorts. She tried slapping at his hands but she’s not really fighting him like she should be.

“Look at that… You look so cute in these tiny little panties,” Bellamy said after getting her shorts off. She tried covering herself up but it was not enough. Bellamy laughed at her attempt as he began to pull her panties down, so focused on what he’s been dying to see.

“Fuck, you’re wetter than I could’ve imagined,” he said under his breath. She had shaved today in the shower for the first time ever. She grew up thinking shaving wasn’t even a thing until Bellamy’s sister gave her something for her birthday.

“No one’s ever touched you here, haven’t they? Tell me I’m the first, baby, and I’ll treat so you right. Better than your people. I’ll worship you more than anyone else can, baby,” Bellamy said, becoming full of lust by the second.

“Bellamy, I can’t,” y/n has snapped out of what felt like a dream, angering Bellamy. “I’m tired of this shit,” he said as he quickly parted y/n’s legs and dived in without warning, lapping his tongue around her floss and clit faster than she could blink.

“Bellamy!” Y/n moaned loudly at the foreigner feeling. She’s never touched herself in any type of way down there so everything she’s feeling feels too great for her. She’s too sensitive.

“P-Please, Bellamy! Oh my!” She cried out, feeling her nerves hit her and her clit swell up. Bellamy began to suck any and everything he could reach. She grew wet, only making Bellamy eat her out sloppier.

“I-I-I can’t Bellamy! I can’t!” She kept crying and shaking as she felt her stomach tighten. She’s never felt this before. She thinks she’s about to pee on Bellamy’s face but Bellamy knows he’s about to take the sweetest thing he could possibly taste.

“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Bellamy said, and right after, y/n released all over his mouth and chest as she shook and rolled her eyes back. The moan she let out felt like music to Bellamy’s ears. He’s never heard of anyone so beautiful before.

Bellamy backed away and hovered over y/n watching her eyes shut and her body shiver from the new feeling she just received.

Bellamy began to take his jeans off as y/n lay there a whining mess, not being able to shake off the orgasm she just had.

“Work with me and I’ll go slow. Resist and I’ll put you in your place, princess,” Bellamy said as she slowly moved in between y/n’s legs, triggering her kind as she felt his bare skin. Her eyes widen in shock at his size.

“B-Bellamy, what are you doing? What is this? What is that?” Y/n asked, feeling a bit scared even though she knows Bellamy would never hurt her in any kind of way.

“It’s yours, princess, and the only right thing to do with it is to get to know it and soak it with your heavenly sent sweet juice,” Bellamy said as he brushed his tip against her entrance to watch her jump a little.

“Let’s see who’ll win this fight,” Bellamy said right before pushing balls deep into her cunt as she screamed and scratched at his chest and abs, feeling the pain but pleasure.

“N-No, this is too much!” She whined as she tried pushing away from Bellamy but he’s not waiting any longer. Bellamy gripped y/n’s neck, placed his hand next to her ok the bed to keep himself up, and began to thrust.

“Bellamy, Bellamy! Fuck, please! Please, Bell,” y/n moaned loudly, surprised at her language and the nickname she called him. “What’s wrong baby? You can finally not take something?” He laughed in her face.

“You’ve been stabbed, shot, thrown off of hills I heard and you can’t take a cock?” Bellamy teased as he sped his thrust. “You can’t take a simple fucking cock, but you can take all of this other shit!?” He shouted at her.

“You’re so pathetic,” growled in her face as her eyes rolled back and her moans got trapped by his tighter grip around her neck. “And you’re about to cum? Didn’t know you were a little slut to degrading, with the title you hold,” Bellamy chuckled as she squeezed his cock.

“I-I’m not,” she whined, which broke into a moan as she came around Bellamy’s thick cock. “Fuck, yes. Cum on my fucking cock and I might treat you better when I fuck your little body,” Bellamy grinned down at her.

“Bellamy,” y/n moaned as she softly grabbed his face and fucked up onto him. Oh, you’re horny? You like it, huh?” Bellamy asked, very surprised that she’s feel comfy with this so fast.

“Y-Yes, I like it,” she whined. Y/n tried pushing Bellamy to the side but he was too strong. He watched her struggle until he let her overpower him and climb onto him.

“Oh, shit,” Bellamy said shocked as y/n grabbed his cock and lined herself up to her own entrance until she dropped down on him with a loud moan. “Fuuuucck!” Bellamy bucked his knees.

“So sexy,” Bellamy growled as he pulled y/n’s shirt and bra off. “Ride me, baby,” Bellamy said. Y/n didn’t waste any time to start. The moans leaving her mouth were nonstop. Her rhythm is as well.

“You ride so good baby. All of that adrenaline in this sexy little body, coming to life,” Bellamy wrapped his large hands around her waist to help her. He gave her ass some smacks here and there, only making her sex drive higher.

“Never knew your tits were so beautiful,” Bellamy grabbed one for a few seconds then began to pinch her nipple to give y/n a better feeling. “Bell,” she moaned as she leaned down in his face.

“Right there,” he said, feeling his orgasm right around the corner. She stuffed his mouth with y/n’s free nipple and began sucking, only having her cum for the 3rd time with a wilder shake.

She still tried to ride him but soon stopped as Bellamy held her down with one of his hands on her waist. Bellamy groaned loudly as he released a big load into y/n. He’s never shaken before. But this time it felt too good to hold still.

Both pulled each other closer together as they rode out their orgasm together.

After cleaning each other up and talking about what the two should do further, they decided to officially be something.

Y/n had to explain to Bellamy that if she were to date someone, within a month, they’ll have to do a traditional marriage because of her title of the leader.

Bellamy couldn’t have had better news said to him. It was one thing for him to be her boyfriend but officially making her his is something he thought he’d have to wait years for. No, he doesn’t.

Y/n and Bellamy lived life to be the best couple anyone could have imagined. They’ve grown both of their people closer and helped generations of people understand that no one is truly your enemy unless you make them out to be.

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romanreignseater · 1 year

Text

Signature Here Please. (Part Two To “Signed Up”)

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: just ABSOLUTELY FILTHY SMUT

“You’ve been waiting for your punishment, and after a tense collision at the Royal Rumble… it’s happening. NOW!”

A/N: Thank you guys for the support on the first part, this is the finale to it and I hope it’s worth you while… cause, it’s a long read 😂😭.”

GIF: @litafan4ever

It’s been two months and Roman STILL hasn’t given you your punishment. You didn’t know where or when it was going to happen. Let’s just say… you were anxious.

“Get ready for punishment, cause you’ll never when it’s coming… and. Anything. Goes.” You smiled and say “I know what I signed up”. “Glad you do”.

Bitch… I don’t know what I signed up for. But, it’s the present day, the 2023 Royal Rumble, January 28th. Roman was going against Kevin Owens in the main event and after a quick trip from Manhattan following Ro’s appearance at the Tonight Show. We arrived at the Alamodome, and were in the Bloodline’s personal locker room. After the kickoff show, Pat McAfee returned home, the Men’s Royal Rumble was soon to begin and I need to get to my seat, when Roman sat beside me.

I smiled as I turned to face him. “You look so good tonight mama”, he said as he examined my tight, white tank top and form-fitting blue skinny jeans. Honey… his kids filled me out, but it was worth it in the end. He then softly, yet sensually kissed my lips. “Thank you, I’m super excited for your match tonight”, “I’m glad you’re excited, cause I sure am”, his face blazed with a menacing smile. “What are you up to Reigns?!”, you say curiously. “Little ole me…”, he crosses his legs, “I’m an absolute saint, I just plan on winning tonight baby”. I could never trust this man as far as I could throw him, and trust me his 265 compared to my 173. There’s NO way I could possibly throw him. “Are you okay?”, he asks me, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?!”. “Y/N, you’ve been staring off into space and biting your nails for the past minute and a half.”

Well, you were slightly nervous. One, because you’ve gone to like Sami in the Bloodline and was nervous to hear Roman say it was “Sami’s night”. Two, you knew Kevin brought out another side of Roman. And three, WHEN WAS YOUR PUNISHMENT COMING?! “Babe, you know I get pre-match jitters sometimes”, you say shaking to imitate those jitters. He looked absolutely puzzled, yet he doesn’t challenge your reasoning. “Well, alright I’m gonna go find security to escort me to my seat”, as I get up he smacks my ass and I lightly yelp. “Where you think you’re going without my fucking kiss?!”, he says sternly. “Aggressive much”, you bend over to give him a long kiss with a little tongue. “That’s more like it baby”, he said smiling loosely. I smiled back at him and headed out the door.

All Hell is about to break loose.

The time has arrived and let’s just say… it hasn’t been easy to watch. The match between Roman and Kevin started off a little slow, but soon picked up. The referee was taken out and that other side of Roman I spoke of, was OUT. Not only was Kevin hit below the belt, he was speared through the barricade… actually, he was speared multiple times. And probably the hardest part to watch was definitely Hardy’s performance, but Kevin’s head being banged against the steel steps, not once, but TWICE was definitely horrific. Sami’s face really showed what everyone was feeling watching that moment. Roman picked up the win, but by the look on his face I knew he wasn’t finished. The Usos and Solo arrived from backstage and Paul pulls out some handcuffs. They cuff Kevin to the top rope and begin an assault of super kicks. Despite Jey’s brilliant defense of Sami at the Tribal Court, Roman still needed to put Sami through the final test. When Sami refused to let Roman hit Kevin with the steel chair, he agrees with Sami that he is better than that and Sami should do it instead.

This wasn’t going to be good.

Sami just deflates and that angered Roman. It angered him so much that he put his hands on Sami. This was Sami’s final straw. As Roman turns around after telling Sami that he’s “theirs”, Sami did the unthinkable. The steel chair that I once remember going to Roman’s back nine years ago, hit him again. I stood still as the crowd erupted. Sami let go of the chair and apologized to Jey as he cried in confusion. Why he would do this after he’s had his back and finally trusted him? A super kick by Jimmy was soon plunged to the jaw of Sami and the WWE Universe was in utter disarray. Honorary Uce is No More. The Bloodline members soon took turns beating Sami and when it was Jey’s turn, he crumbled and left the ring. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing, but I knew the family would come together again. They had to.

“FUCK YOU ROMAN, FUCK YOU ROMAN, FUCK YOU ROMAN”!!

The biggest heel of our GENERATION. Those chants didn’t even faze him as he laid pieces of his lei upon Sami. He soon leaves the ring without two members of the Bloodline apart of his tow. I asked security to escort me backstage, where I catch Roman making a TikTok with Paul. Once they finished, he just walks past me. I scurried to follow them in my high heels. I reached their locker room and Roman coldly stares at me. He then addresses his wiseman to leave the room and they’ll speak later. Paul then exits the room

Still upset at the fact that he walked right past me, I decided to lay it on the table. “Ro, I understand you’re a little heated, but you had no right to walk past me like that!”, I said while stomping my heel to the ground trying to expel dominance. He chuckles as he says something that makes my heart skip a beat, “You remember that little ‘competition’ we had about… two months ago?”, I stood in shock. Of course I knew he did not forget, but it had been so long… “Y/N, answer me… NOW. Do you remember?!”, he slowly stood up and walked towards me. “Ye-s-s”, he stared into my eyes and smirked. He turned his back to me and went into his bag. He pulled out a rolled up piece of paper with his right hand, and grabbed my wrist with his left. He let the paper fall loose on the table in front of us.

“Sign your name here please.”, with no emotion to his face. “What is it?!”, you said confused. He lets out a deep breath and says, “Your punishment is laid out in this contract, that I have been meticulously planning for the past month now. Everything that I’ll do to you TONIGHT is all here.” I couldn’t believe my ears, what does he mean contract?! He hands me a pen, as I begin to read the short contract. At the top it says “PUNISHMENT CONTRACT” in bold letters, the body of this contract is just bullet points that say:

Bondage

Edging

Overstimulation

Cockwarming

Spanking

And… a WHOLE lot of hard fucking.

Sign signature below if you agree with conditions above:

X __________________________

P.S. no FOREPLAY

This was too much. Why NOW?! I hesitate as the pen in my hand is sure to snap due to my grip and sheer stress. He whispers in my ear, “Don’t let your mind grow out of proportion, just signnn on the dotted lineee”. I couldn’t say no, so I did it. He smiled and called our chauffeur. We soon end up at the hotel in the presidential suite. The car ride was torture as he counted from 1 to 2.9, describing the way he would edge me, like how he was nearly pinned in about 2.9999 seconds. I stand in front of the bed facing him as he demands me to remove my tank top, jeans, and panties. But, he wants my heels to stay on. I lay on the bed and spread my legs, but he smacks my thigh HARD and says, “The contract specifically said, NO FOREPLAY! We gettin’ straight to it. Ass up, face down…. NOW!” I complied with the Chief’s orders and assumed the position. I hear him laugh behind me and then, the sound of a belt being undone hits my ears.

“You better count bitch, cause I ain’t,”~SMACK~, “STOPPING!” He brings a brutal assault to my cheeks as I cry and beg for mercy. We were up to 25, when he thought it was enough. He then uses his belt and the LEGS of my jeans to tie me up to the bedposts. My pussy is sopping wet and I feel my essence run down my thighs. Roman can’t help but to smirk. “This pussy is all mine, right?!”, “Ye-e-ss, it’s all yours”. “What’s my name Y/N?!”, “Rom—“, you stopped mid sentence and shrieked as Roman started to spank you, switching from the palm side of his hand to the back side. “YOU KEEP TESTING ME!!”, he yells. He ceased his attack and asked me again, what his name was. “DADDY!! YOUR NAME IS DADDY!! I’m sorry…”, you cried and satisfied with that answer, you hear a zipper being pulled down and a thud of Roman’s pants falling to his ankles onto the floor.

You begin to squirm and whimper as the bed dips due to Roman’s massive frame. Tired of your constant whining, when you knew what you signed up for. Roman takes your panties from the floor and shoves it in your mouth. “That’ll teach you stop with that sour ass attitude like I told you”, he said oh-so calmly. Bringing himself back up, you feel the head of his massive cock rub sooo sweetly against your lips and clit. “Fuck mama, my dick is sliding so easily against MY pussy”, his filthy and sultry words, make you gush out another sample of wetness. As he tries to ease into your pussy, he just slides right in due to your entrance dripping waiting his arrival. He abuses your cunt and mind by slowly and softly sliding his mass into you. Then picks up the pace with his hard dick hitting your cervix and toned thighs slapping up against yours. You wanted to run, but had nowhere to go. And screaming wasn’t gonna do anything.

Here’s where the edging begins. The Tribal Chief starts to really get it in, as if he wanted another baby. To be honest, we could make it happen. He makes you count from 1 to 2.9, and as you get to 2.9, he stops and makes you start over again. It felt like this went on for a good ten minutes. “Come on baby, beg the Tribal Chief”, “Chief, p-lea-seeee, I need to C—UM!” “Go ahead o lo'u alofa, let it go”, he said with a slight hint of his Samoan heritage. Here’s the part you were dreading: OVERSTIMULATION. As you came, Roman entered a new glow, and sped up at an alarming rate. That boy was definitely going at least 20 MPH and you were not ready. You began squirting, as your panties fell from between your lips and you screamed. You begin to claw at the sheets and gnaw on your upper lip. You feel as if you’re going to pass out when Ro finally releases into your cunt. You’re able to breathe a sigh of relief. While you lay awaiting Roman’s next move, he untied your ankles and wrists while inside of you.

He then pulls out quickly and you moan at the loss of his warmth. He maneuvers his body underneath you and pulls you on top of him. “My favorite part”, he says really smiley, “You can’t help yourself?… Can you?!”, you said. “Nope”, with the pop of the “p”. He inserts himself back into you and let the cockwarming commence. Just as you both sensually make out with one another, there’s a knock on the door. “Who is it?!”, Roman boasts. “It’s Sami…”, another voice speaks and says “It’s Jey, we need to talk Uce”. You look at Roman absolutely bewildered, he puffs out a huge breath and removes himself from you, “You clean yourself up baby, I’ll be back.”, as he kissed your forehead you grabbed his wrist and told him “Remember what you signed up for… family.” He looked at you with complete understanding. “And more thing babe,” “Yeah.”, “Can’t answer the door with your dick out”, you said laughing. “Oh shit”. He grabs his pants from the ground and sends a wink your way as he exits the bedroom into the main room.

Jesus, what did I sign up for?!

THE END!!

WHEWWW, what a wild ride!! Like I said, I appreciate all your comments and compliments, it means everything to me 💕!! THANK YOU, LOVE YALL!

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns smut

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reallyromealone · 1 year

Note

Brome I have a request. 🙏 I would like to request Taiju being an absolute SIMP OF A BOYFRIEND! Like imagine when Hakki invited Michi over he just send a look to his sister and she nods and like not even a minute later his phone starts ringing and at first he's mad but when he sees who is calling his he literally yells at everybody to shut up and then starts speaking oh so softly into the phone then when he hangs up Taiju looks back at them and explains how their lucky his lovely name needs him and then he's hauling ass towards the house and when the siblings get home they see name lecturing Taiju about how he needs to be a better brother because now he's (Taiju) is acting like how his dad treated him before Taiju saved him. At first the siblings didn't think it'd work until Hakki wakes up early in the morning for some water and there is Taiju laying on the couch and then Taiju just starts apologizing. Talking how he's so sorry he treated them like that and he'll do anything for their forgiveness. You can decide the rest

*SCREAMS*

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hakkai was stressed as he glanced at his sister, the girl nodding much to Takemichis confusion "I'm gonna--- who the fuck is calling...me---EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!" Taiju bellowed as he answered the phone and takemichi had to do a double take at the soft voice that came from Taijus mouth "hey baby...what's wrong? Yeah? Ok I will be there in a sec ok? Yeah I love you too..."

"You fuckers are lucky I have to go, but this ain't fucking over"

Taiju left swiftly, leaving poor takemichi very confused as Yazuha let out a sigh or relief "don't worry Michi, we just used the ultimate weapon against him" Hakkai said with the tiniest bit of smugness.

"What's that?"

"(Name)"

It was late in the evening when Hakkai and Yazuha got home, the siblings carefully putting their shoes away as they creaked past the kitchen "Tai, you can't treat your siblings like this! It's awful! They're your family and you need to treat them better!" (Name) said heatedly, hands on his hips as taiju looked ashamed "you told me if you ever start acting like your dad to tell you and you are really acting like him towards those two!"

Yazuha and Hakkai were...skeptical that anything would come of this as they knew their brother was an emotional boulder.

Though come morning, the sound of food could be heard and the smell of a simple Japanese breakfast woke the two from their sleep.

What surprised them was taiju sitting on the couch looking down, the sound of the last step on the staircase alerting the elder to their presence "sit down" Taiji said gruffly only for a chopstick to be thrown at him from the kitchen "I mean shit-- sit down please" Taiji said feeling the glare from his boyfriend who was aggressively chopping vegetables "I'm sorry... How I was completely unacceptable and (name) made me realize I was being horrible... I am deeply sorry"

"You guys don't have to accept it now or even ever... I just want to apologize"

Yazuha and Hakkai looked at each other "we know...we know it's been hard on you too and... Maybe we can work on building up to accepting your apology" Yazuha said carefully "actions speak better than words"

"That's completely fair"

Taiju was completely different as (name) watched over with a soft smile at the people he cared deeply for, setting the table, the three Shiba siblings genuinely talking for once.

(Name) was dead set to make sure they made up.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #taiju x reader #taiju x male reader

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aomine-ryo · 9 months

Note

Because I loved all of your make out stories, what would actually help global warming and hunger is Takao make out story ✨ where Takao and his s/o gets their first proper make out story bc Takao deserves the world as The Greenest Flag In KnB 🛐

I would die for Takao Kazunari so absolutely. Ty for making me write more for the best boy !! It’s a short one but hope you enjoy muah xx

Scenario: making out with Takao

- gender neutral reader

Takao’s favourite time was 1 a.m.. You’d think between school, training and being Midorima’s chauffeur, he’d be sound asleep at this time, but this was the time when the world went quiet. This was the time where it was just the two of you— no distractions.

You lived a walkable distance from Takao. It wasn’t close enough for him to deem you his neighbour, but if he were to just walk down the street and take a left turn, he’d be right at your door. Given this, sneaking into your bedroom at 1 a.m. had become the norm for him over the past two weeks. With his busy schedule, it was hard to find alone time with you. If he were to see you during the day, it would often be with other friends as well. So this was the only time he could spend with you and only you.

Unfortunately, the weather tonight was not in his favour. As he looked outside his bedroom window, he watched as the rain poured relentlessly into his backyard. If it were just the rain, he could’ve just stepped outside with his umbrella, but the wind was so strong that he could hear it without even opening his window. His umbrella wasn’t surviving that.

Takao looked down at the text you sent him, almost as if you could read his mind.

y/n: i don’t think you should come over tn. the weather is terrible :(

takao: it’s just a little rain, dw about it I’ll be there in five :)

y/n: wdym ‘just a little rain’?? ITS POURING

takao: pfft it’s just water. I’m stronger than water

You sighed at his response even though it had you grinning like an idiot. It was just like Takao to do something as silly as this. You decided to head downstairs as quietly as you could so that you could open the door for Takao when he does get here. Your parents were heavy sleepers so it wasn’t like they were going to wake up anyways, but it was good to be cautious.

You waited patiently for a few minutes until you heard a light tap on the door, a signal for you to open it for Takao. As the door slowly opened, you were greeted by the sight of your soaking wet boyfriend who looked like he’d been through hell and back.

“Oh my god, Takao!” you whisper shouted as you ushered him in, slowly closing the door behind you.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he shrugged, but it was obviously a lie. He wasn’t even wearing a raincoat. All he had on was a, now soaking, black hoodie and shorts— he was dressed as if it was just another day.

“Let’s get you dried up,” you just sighed in response, turning on your heel to head back upstairs to your room.

“What? You’re not gonna hug me? Weren’t you the one that said you missed me?” Takao grinned, opening his arms up and moving closer to you.

You quickly moved back, trying to get him as far away from you as possible. “I’ll give you a hug when you’re dry,” you said, keeping an eye on his every move.

“Well that’s no fun, come here,” Takao said, the most mischievous look in his blue eyes as he strode over to you. Much to your dismay, you were too slow to react to this, soon finding yourself in a fit of giggles as Takao enveloped you in a big, wet hug.

“Let me go!” you laughed, trying to keep your voice down as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

Takao did as he was told after leaving a soft peck on your cheek, knowing the damage was already done. “Haven’t you missed me?” Takao smiled, tone more mocking than anything.

“Shut up, let’s go. I need to change now as well,” you rolled your eyes.

The two of you got to your room and you fished the clothes you had stolen from him out of your closet, handing him a towel to dry his hair with as well. You picked out a baggy T-shirt for yourself as well and you changed into it nonchalantly, Takao watching your every move in awe.

You looked back at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing, just didn’t expect you to be taking your shirt off this quickly,” he replied smoothly, making you blush.

“Shut up and get changed,” you chuckled, walking over and hanging your damp shirt on your clothes rack.

“Get changed? Can I have some privacy then please?” Takao said sarcastically.

“What? Do you want me to close my eyes?” You joked.

“Yes, thank you very much,” he said as a matter-of-factly.

“You’re kidding…”

“Go on then,” he looked at you expectantly.

“I’ve seen you na—”

“I’m waiting,” he cut you off, committed to the bit.

You let out a sigh as you sat down at the edge of your bed, putting your hands over your eyes.

“Thank you,” Takao said in a tone that made you want to slap the grin off his face.

You heard Takao shuffle around as he moved to take his clothes off. Admittedly, the curiosity got the best of you and you began to watch him through the gaps between your fingers. It should’ve been a crime for him to keep you from watching him. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, you still went weak in the knees seeing him with his shirt off. His toned muscles, damp skin, veiny arms— magnificent. Not to mention he was still sporting the marks you left on his neck the night before. It was truly a sight.

“I know you’re peeping,” Takao said as he tightened the drawstring on his sweatpants, turning over to meet your eyes through your fingers.

“No I’m not,” you said immediately, though the smile on your face said otherwise.

You watched him walk towards you, his hands grabbing your wrists and moving them away from your face, bending over so his eyes were in line with yours. “I could feel you watching me, you perv,” Takao grinned, voice so low that you could feel it in your stomach.

“You can’t blame me when you look like that,” you replied, your eyes darting down the exposed skin of his upper body.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Takao said, his lips now inches away from yours. A moment of silence passed by as you met with Takao’s steel blue eyes, your heart feeling like it was about to stop beating at any moment with the way he looked at you.

He soon closed the gap between you two, your lips colliding with each other’s with as much passion as your very first kiss. His touch was soft— it always was in the beginning. With the grip he still had on both your wrists, he slowly pushed you onto your bed, pinning your hands to either side of you as he bit on your bottom lip, eliciting a soft whine from you.

You felt Takao’s tongue slowly slide into your mouth, roaming the familiar territory as he comforted himself in the warmth of your soft lips. Takao’s hair was still damp. You could feel some of the cold, wet strands brush against your forehead as he hovered on top of you. You weren’t opposed to it though. The familiarity of his movements had you melting at his touch, the smell of his cologne reminding you of all the times he’s satisfied you, making your need for him grow stronger with each passing moment.

Takao’s hands released their grip on yours. Your hands instinctively moved to run through his wet locks while his fingers lightly traced over your clothed chest. His hands moved lower and lower, lips not losing contact with yours for even a second as his cold fingers slipped under your shirt. You took a sharp breath in at the sensation of his cold touch on your skin, and you could feel Takao smile against your lips.

He’d missed this. Yes, it had only been a day since he’s had you in this state last, but he could never get enough of it. The dark haired man pulled away from your lips for a moment, quickly directing himself to your neck, beginning to leave soft kisses that had you humming in approval. Takao’s hands made their way further down, fingers tracing over your shorts as he began to leave marks on your neck, your body growing more and more impatient for him. You knew he needed you just as bad, his hips slowly began to grind against you and you could feel him through the fabric of the sweatpants. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan at the feel of it.

Takao felt you buck your hips up in search of some friction and he couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction. He loved this. He loved drawing out his movements until you were a desperate mess underneath him. He loved hearing your soft little whines of frustration just like you were doing now.

“Kazu…” it was like music to his ears, “please.”

“Hm?” Takao hummed against your neck, playing dumb as he pulled away to look down at you with his sultry blue eyes. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he wanted you to use your words.

“I need more… please,” you whispered, aching for more of his touch.

“How could I ever say no to you?” he smiled, leaning down to press his lips against yours once more. There was nothing he loved more than the taste of you.

#takao kazunari #kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #knb #kuroko no basquet #takao x reader #takao kazunari supremacy #knb scenarios #knb imagines #knb x reader

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year

Text

Kissing Their Scars

Bo Sinclair

You were in bed together, Bo's shirt already forgotten on the bedroom floor, your own halfway off your body. In all the times that you'd been with him intimately, you'd never brought attention to the scarring around his wrists. He'd told you a little about what had happened in his past before, how he'd gotten the scars, and you weren't going to press him about it.

But now, as you pressed light kisses across his chest, you found yourself suddenly drawn to his wrists, leaning back and carefully lacing your fingers with his, lifting his hand up towards you and gently pressing your lips to the scars etched into his skin.

"What're you doin'?" He asked, his hand jerking back slightly as he stared up at you, a look of unease on his face.

"Sorry." You said, shaking your head as you pulled back. "I guess I wasn't thinking."

"No, no, don't be sorry." He quickly answered, his hands coming up to stroke your arms. "Just caught me off guard, that's all."

"You know I think you're amazing." You smiled, before pressing a final quick kiss to his wrist. "Every part of you."

Bo couldn't help but smile back at you then, emotion swelling in his chest as he stared up at you, your fingers still gently cradling his wrist. But he didn't bother to say anything more, because there was no way in hell he was gonna get all emotional on you. Not right now, at least.

Vincent Sinclair

Now unlike Bo, Vincent was slightly less open when it came to his scars. For the first few months that you were together, you never once saw his face. He wouldn't be opposed to you kissing him through the mask every now and again, but it would definitely take him a while before he was comfortable enough to show you what was hidden beneath the mask.

And when that time finally came, you were cautious not to push him too far, allowing him to take things at his own pace. You'd been watching him work down in the basement, and you were absolutely mesmerized by the sight, the way he was so focused, so professional in the way he created his sculptures. And you'd gotten his attention briefly, asking if it'd be okay if you kissed him. He simply nodded, carefully setting his tools down and approaching you.

And he didn't know what it was, but he suddenly felt a strange sense of confidence, pausing for a moment before finally removing his mask.

You were definitely surprised by this, considering you'd never seen his face until now.

"Are you sure?" You asked him, your voice quiet as you took in his features.

He nodded, although you could tell he was still unsure. You'd heard his brother call him a freak a number of times, so it was understandable that he was unsure of your reaction.

You smiled as you stepped closer to him, carefully bringing a hand up to brush the hair away from his face, revealing the heavy scarring underneath.

Vincent wasn't sure what to expect, but he was surprised to see you smiling at him. Most people probably would've run away screaming. But not you. You were looking up at him like he was the most mesmerizing thing you had ever seen.

"You're beautiful, Vincent." You spoke softly, before lifting up to gently press your lips against the scarred side of his face.

[Main Masterlist] [Vincent Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 11

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,900 Warnings: Angst, peril, fluff. Oh yeah, and more kidnapping.

Part 11: Soul Bond

You had nothing.

Absolutely nothing on where the Yellow Eyed demon had taken Sam. You and Dean had been working on it with Bobby at his house for hours, but out of hundreds of ancient books on the shelf, not one had the answer on how to locate the demon.

And over the past month, none of the omens that were typically associated with demons revealed anything either.

You and Bobby were frustrated. Dean was pissed.

Until he got a call from Ash—the resident hillbilly tech genius at Harvelle’s Roadhouse. He had something big, but not something that he could share over the phone.

You all needed to get your asses to the Roadhouse.

It took a fair amount of convincing, but Dean reluctantly let you come with him and Bobby in the Impala to Nebraska. About four hours later, you arrived to scorched earth where the Roadhouse once stood.

The building had been all but burned to the ground. Only part of its wood frame remained. You covered your mouth with a hand against the smoke fumes as you carefully stepped through the debris to find any sign of Ash, Ellen, or her daughter Jo. According to Sam and Dean, Jo was just a little younger than you, but she was shaping up to be a great hunter herself.

Right now though, you were glad that you hadn’t found her. Bobby shook his head at the carnage, while Dean stopped short. He found Ash’s charred arm, identifying him by his watch.

He grimaced. “Oh, Ash. Damn it.”

He glanced up at you and Bobby. You didn’t need the bond to know that Dean felt helpless. And he was thinking the same thing you were.

What the hell do we do now?

The three of you headed back to the car after Bobby called this in to 9-1-1.

“What the hell did Ash know?” Dean said. “We’ve got no way of knowing where Ellen is, or if she’s even alive. We got no clue what Ash was going to tell us. Now how the hell are we gonna find Sam?”

“We’ll find him,” Bobby said.

Just then, Dean flinched as images flashed painfully through his mind. You gasped as his pain echoed in your own head, making you press a hand to your temple not unlike how he was right now.

“What’s going on?” Bobby asked. He looked between you both in confusion, and an edge of concern. “What was that?”

You looked over at Dean with a frown.

“It started with you,” you said.

He gave you an apologetic look before he answered your uncle. “I don’t know. Headache?”

“You get headaches like that a lot?” Bobby asked skeptically.

You laid a hand on Dean’s back, as you sensed he was still reeling. He shook his head.

“No,” he admitted, catching his breath. “It must be the stress…but I could’a swore I saw something.”

“What do you mean, like…like a vision?” Bobby asked.

“What, no. Like what Sam gets?” Dean asked.

“Like what Sam gets?” you echoed. “Sam gets visions?”

Your hand dropped from his back as you regarded Dean sternly. He gave you a more sheepish, apologetic look.

I’ll fill you in later, he said through the bond. You frowned at him. Even now, he was still keeping things from you.

“Not like that. I’m not some psychic,” Dean said to Bobby.

And then it him again—a piercing pain that resonated through his skull, and through the soul bond into yours. Both of you clutched at your heads in pain. It actually brought Dean to his knees against the Impala while you nearly lost your footing in the gravel road. Bobby came to your side first, holding you up right while his free hand went to stabilize Dean.

You didn’t see what Dean saw, but in his vision, he saw Sam. And he saw a large old bell with a tree engraved on it. An oak tree, Bobby helped confirm.

“I know where Sam is,” Bobby said. “Cold Oak.”

“Where the hell’s that?” Dean said.

“Back home,” Bobby said. “South Dakota.”

The only thing you could do was drive.

Well, Dean did the driving. Bobby was out for a nap in the backseat. You sat in the passenger seat and tried to soothe Dean’s worry.

“We’re going to find him,” you said. Dean glanced at you with a frown.

“That’s not all I’m worried about,” he said.

“What else?” you said. His lips pressed into a line, and his gaze was firmly on the road, but you knew him by now. You sensed he was thinking about the pain his vision caused, and that you had felt it too.

“It’s just the bond, Dean,” you said. “We’re both fine—”

“Yeah, well, next time we might not be,” Dean said. He let go of a sharp sigh. “Damn it, you should’ve stayed home. When we get there, you’re definitely staying in the car.”

You huffed, crossing your arms.

“You’re not the boss of me,” you muttered.

Dean shot you a warning look. “Hey, don’t you get snippy. This is serious. It’s dangerous beyond freakin’ belief.”

“I know, okay! I’m not an idiot,” you retorted. “And by the way, thanks for filling me in about Sam’s psychic powers. Talk about the 11th hour.”

Dean made a sound of frustration as his eyes rolled heavenward.

“Look, it’s Sam’s thing. Not mine,” he said. “Not my secret to tell.”

A valid point, though at the moment, not one you cared about.

“The one thing I asked from you was not to lie to me, and you can’t even do that,” you snapped. “Omission is still a lie.”

Dean kept his eyes on the road while his mouth was set in a firm line, choosing to stew in silence rather than raise his voice at you.

You felt his anger, still twisted with worry for his brother, and it shot a lance of guilt through you. You knew you weren’t making things any easier here…

But you were angry too. So you sat back in your seat and looked out your window instead of at your boyfriend for the next ten miles.

Dean hated to stop for any reason, but he eventually pulled off the highway at the nearest pit stop to gas up the car.

You got out of the car with your purse at the same time Dean did, but he grabbed hold of your arm as soon as you tried to get by him.

“Where’re you going?” His question sounded more like a demand. You gave him an odd look.

“To the bathroom,” you said. A bit of snark colored your tone. “Unless you want to reupholster your seats.”

Dean didn’t appreciate your attitude. He set the gas handle to fill up his car automatically and signaled to Bobby to keep an eye on it.

“You don’t have to come with me. I’ll be right back,” you said. But it was like talking to a brick wall.

Dean followed you into the gas station, through the snack aisle, all the way to the women’s bathroom. His shoulders and spine were tense, his gaze alert.

“All right, I think we can part ways right here,” you teased, trying your best to be less snarky this time. Dean wasn’t laughing.

“Just make it quick,” he said.

Fine, Dad, you thought in annoyance. You could tell he heard it by the way his lips pursed. With a frustrated sigh, you went into the restroom by yourself.

You realized Dean was just trying to keep you safe, but that sort of overprotectiveness really did remind you of your dad, and how he’d wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap since you were a little kid. And that was annoying as hell.

Once you’d used the restroom, you set your purse down on the counter and washed your hands at the sink.

A creaking sound echoed from your left. You paused, wondering if Dean had cracked the door open on top of waiting outside for you. But when you didn’t hear him, you shook your head and finished washing your hands.

Briefly you looked up into the mirror—and you saw him.

You jolted with a gasp as a tall man with eerie yellow eyes smirked over your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled.

You whirled around, but before you could scream, the man grabbed your shoulder. The moment he touched you, you felt cold and darkness climbed into your mind, washing everything else away.

Dean’s fists clenched in the pocket of his jeans. He frowned, both impatient and annoyed. What the hell was taking you so long?

He had half a mind to go in there and check on you. But just as he was about to ask you mentally what the hold up was, he felt a tendril of your fear through the bond. Then, your terror.

Sucking in a breath, Dean drew his gun from the waistband of his jeans and burst into the women’s bathroom.

Your purse was sitting on the counter, the faucet in the sink was still on, but you were nowhere to be found. He called your name as he entered. You didn’t answer.

Dean looked around, and his panic rose when he knealed down and found traces of sulfur on the bathroom floor.

“Damn it!”

Dean sprinted back to the car, where Bobby had already filled up the Impala with gas and had been waiting. Once he caught sight of Dean, he perked up in alert.

“What happened?” he asked. “Where’s—”

“Yellow Eyes got her,” Dean said. His expression was pained. “He took her right out from under me, goddamn it!”

Dean raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. Bobby came around and rested a hand on his shoulder. The older man was also worried about his niece, his insides gone cold and his heart squeezed like a vice. But he knew that Dean didn’t need to see it right now.

“It’s okay. We’ll find her,” Bobby said.

“It’s not okay, Bobby! I shouldn’t have brought her out here. Fuck.” Dean rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth. You were in the hands of a demon, and it wasn’t some low-level backup dancer either. It was the demon.

One horrific scenario after another played through Dean’s mind—on a loop. It threatened to turn his stomach.

“It’s my fault,” he said. He felt that down to his bones. “And Sam too. I was distracted when he needed me…and now who knows what that sick fuck is gonna—”

“Dean, calm down. We know where Sam is. We can at least get to him first,” Bobby said. “Yellow Eyes obviously wants us, mainly you, chasin’ your tail…which in a way is good for us.”

Dean shot him an incredulous look. “How?”

“He sees you as a threat,” Bobby said, his gaze knowing. “To whatever he’s got cooked up for Sam.”

You woke up lying on a dusty ground with dead leaves in your mouth.

You spit them out and groaned at the dull ache in your skull. What the hell…

When you were able to look up at your surroundings, you were disconcerted to find you were in the middle of the woods. Where that was, you had no fucking idea.

“Evening, sunshine,” came a droll voice. You gasped as you realized who it was, and what exactly had taken you. You whipped around and found the Yellow Eyed demon watching you, smirking lightly in amusement.

You scrambled to your feet and put as much distance as you could between him and you, which was only about a few feet, considering the small clearing he’d brought you to.

You were freezing, missing the jacket you’d left in the car. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and a demon, the demon, was watching you. This was the thing that had killed Sam’s girlfriend, and Sam and Dean’s mother. This was the creature John Winchester had bargained with for Dean’s life.

You were terrified.

But you tried to channel Dean’s focus under pressure. You couldn’t feel him, so you assumed they were far from the gas station in South Dakota. Though you also didn’t know how much time had lapsed between then and now.

“What do you want?” you asked, hating how tremulous your voice was. “Why’d you bring me here? Where’s Sam?”

Yellow Eyes crossed an arm and rested his chin in his other hand.

“You ask a lot of questions,” he mused. “Which one’s most important to you?”

You blinked, took a breath to steady yourself (though that didn’t really work), and you forced yourself to think.

“You could’ve killed me,” you said. “But you haven’t yet.”

He shrugged.

“Still could,” he pointed out. You swallowed. Fair enough.

“Separating me from Dean is…you probably want him going crazy,” you reasoned. And thinking of Dean made you ache.

This is exactly the kind of thing he’d feared, you realized. And if we make it through this, he’s going to be pissed.

Mainly at you, probably. And that thought intensified your guilt.

But the only real question you had left was, “Where’s Sam?”

The demon straightened and took on a new smile, one you decided you didn’t like.

“You really want to know?” he asked. He moved towards you, but you moved in the opposite direction. Cat and mouse.

You somehow managed to keep a stubborn tilt to your chin. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Lippy.” He nodded. “That’s cute.”

In a few swift, inhuman steps, he crossed the distance and took your throat in his hand. You gasped and grabbed at his wrist, but he didn’t squeeze. He just framed your jaw with his hand and looked down at you like he was considering breaking your neck. Just for fun.

“Do you want to see Sam?” he asked, tilting your face up to him. “I’ll take you to him.”

You worked to find your voice. You were trembling. “Why?”

He looked mockingly surprised.

“Why? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You stared up at him in fear, breathing shallowly, but you wanted to know his motivations. Why would he help you?

“I’ll put it like this. I’ve got a little bet going,” the demon said. His thumb drew back and forth along your jawline. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Right now I’ve got two main contenders: a bear and a lion,” he said. “I’m rootin’ for the lion. At the end of this little trial, we’ll see which of my children comes out on top.”

He finally released you. You gasped and rubbed your throat—not because he’d hurt you, but because his touch felt cold. Like the clammy hand of death.

You let out a shaky breath.

“So either Sam wins, or he dies,” you concluded. The demon smiled.

“You want to help Dean, right? You want to matter in his life, beyond being a convenient bedwarmer,” he taunted. You glared back.

“The question is: do you think you can make a difference?” Yellow Eyes paced behind you, like the devil on your shoulder.

If this was your chance to help Sam, then you would take it, even if it cost you. You cared about Sam too, and you refused to be the reason Dean lost another member of his family.

“Take me to Sam then,” you said.

The demon appeared at your side. He dropped an icy hand on your shoulder, and your world fell into darkness again.

This time, it cleared faster. You gasped as if you’d been holding your breath. You felt dizzy and wrong, but when you next opened your eyes, you faced a dark, empty town bordering on a wilderness. The demon had disappeared.

But you heard a shout. Your head snapped to the sound, and you saw Sam! He was fighting someone just a few yards away: a young Black man in what looked like an army uniform.

“Sam!” you called out, and you raced towards them. Sam was kneeling on the ground, nearly spent, maybe even hurt.

But the other man was behind him. As you got close, your eyes widened as you saw the knife.

You had no time to think, you just had to stop him.

You jumped onto the attacker’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck. You managed to pull him back with your weight alone, though you struggled to stay on as he grunted and stumbled back.

He soon twisted and threw you off—hard onto the damp ground. So hard that you hit your head on the gravel, and your vision sharply cut to black once again.

Sam was exhausted. Pain radiated from his dislocated right shoulder, but he could’ve sworn he’d heard your voice. He saw Bobby and Dean in the distance, coming from the south. But your voice had come from the opposite direction.

“Sam, watch out!” Dean shouted.

Sam twisted to look behind him, but his eyes widened at what he saw.

He saw you grappling on Jake’s back. Sam scrambled to his feet and grabbed the crowbar he had given up earlier, just in time to watch Jake all but throw you to the ground. Anger burned in Sam’s veins.

He used his left hand to once again slam the crowbar across Jake’s face—twice, three times more. Even with Jake’s superhuman strength, it managed to push him back a few steps. But he still didn’t go down. His obstinate face and his solid stance said he wasn’t giving up. It was him, or Sam. One of them wasn’t walking out of here alive.

Jake took one step forward.

And then he found three bullets in his chest.

Slowly he looked down. Blood spilled from his wounds, and Jake stumbled and fell back into the dirt. The light drained from his eyes as his heaving chest stilled. Sam could only stare at him in shock, until Dean ran up at his side.

Dean debated one more shot to the head, mostly out of anger and relief that he’d made it in time…

But after a moment, he lowered his gun and looked over at his brother. Sam gave him a grim, thankful look.

Dean returned it, but his expression soon fell. He looked past his brother, where Bobby was kneeling down to your sprawled body on the ground. You were out cold. Dean sheathed his gun as he and Sam also went to your side. Dean’s insides went cold, but he quickly checked you over with his eyes and his hands.

“Baby, can you hear me?” Dean called to you, but you didn’t respond.

Overall, you didn’t seem hurt anywhere else but the knot probably forming on the back of your head. But you’d been missing for hours. You’d been with Yellow Eyes all this time…

Dean took your face in his hands and was gentle in raising your head from the ground. He didn’t find any blood, but he still had to hold his fear and desperation inside as he called your name, trying to rouse you.

He held the side of your face, brushing his thumb against your cold cheek.

“Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes for me,” he muttered. For a moment, all three men waited with bated breath.

Then, you inhaled more sharply and started to wake up. Dean let out a deep breath, sharing a look of relief with Sam and Bobby. He brushed your hair away from your face and pulled you into his arms. You were slow to come around, but then you opened your eyes.

When your gaze found his, you smiled at him. “Dean?”

“There she is,” Dean said with a grin. “There’s my girl.”

He carefully checked the back of your head again.

“I thought we said no more heart attacks,” he quipped. You just sighed and held onto his jacket, too relieved and spent to volley back. Dean looked down at you and tried to hide the true depths of his concern (and lingering worry).

“You okay?” he asked. “Did Yellow Eyes…are you hurt?”

You met his eyes again, and though tears swam in yours, you shook your head. But you smiled at Bobby when he set an almost fatherly hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you replied.

“Did you crack your head again?” Bobby asked. You tried to sit up, and Dean helped you.

“Don’t think so. Damn.” You winced at the ache at the back of your head. Dean also grimaced; you hoped he couldn’t feel this too. “Maybe I’ve got a weak skull.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Sam said. “Jake was strong.”

You looked over at Sam and saw how he was holding his right arm. And he had a stream of blood drying down the side of his face.

“Are you okay?” you asked him in concern.

“It’s just dislocated,” Sam said.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, let’s fix that before we go.”

He released you once he was satisfied that Bobby was supporting you, and then turned to his brother. It wasn’t pleasant, and you had never seen this done outside of the movies, but in a quick countdown from three, Dean set his brother’s shoulder. On two, Sam’s strangled yell rang out throughout the ghost town.

You winced and gave Sam a supportive rub of his back.

“Okay, Sammy.” Dean laid a hand on Sam’s good shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Absolutely,” Sam agreed with a grimace.

Dean helped you to the Impala, despite you telling him that you were fine. He wasn’t babying his brother like this. He just gave you a look, and he eased you into the Impala’s backseat while Sam climbed into the passenger seat.

Bobby went on ahead in his car, while Dean proceeded to drill both of you on what happened. Sam explained his part—being kidnapped, ending up in this town with a handful of others his age who had been sought out by the Yellow Eyed demon. It had turned out to be gruesome survival of the fittest, in which they were picked off one by one, then forced to fight each other to make it out alive. Sam and Jake had been the last ones standing.

There were some details that Sam was leaving out, you noticed, even though you didn’t know exactly what they were. Like why this group had these powers to begin with, and why the demon wanted them to fight one another to the death.

But right now, you were too exhausted to pursue your usual curiosity.

“Why did Yellow Eyes take you?” Sam asked, glancing at you over his shoulder to the backseat. Dean’s expression tightened.

“Maybe he wanted to distract Dean, but it was more than that,” you explained. “He wanted to help you win, Sam. He figured I’d be a monkey wrench in the game.”

You want to help Dean, right? You want to matter in his life, the demon had taunted.

And you’d played your part. You were glad you had though. If you hadn’t thrown yourself onto Jake, who knows what he would’ve done to Sam…but you did regret one thing.

“Dean,” you said softly. He looked back at you over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry about…about today. You warned me this was dangerous, and I was stupid about it.” You let out a shaky sigh. “Not to mention a selfish jerk. I promise, it won’t happen again—”

“All right, that’s enough,” Dean said. He reached back and grasped your knee. His eyes flashed to yours through the rearview mirror.

Your lips trembled. A few tears escaped and rolled down your cheeks, but you were quick to brush them away and grab his hand.

You were just grateful that he didn’t seem to be angry at you. Nor did you sense that from him through the bond. What you felt most was his concern, his desire to soothe you, and his goal to get you and Sam home.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not mad,” he promised. “You’re safe. Sammy’s safe, we’re all good.”

Sam’s head turned towards you, offering a smile as well. You tried to smile back at both of them. You sniffled, squeezing Dean’s hand one more time before you let go so he could concentrate on driving. He still kept an eye on you through the rearview.

“You okay?” he asked. You nodded, but you also couldn’t hold back a long yawn.

“All right. Get some sleep, baby. We’ll be home soon,” he said.

You nodded and relaxed in the backseat of the Impala. You always got sleepy in moving in cars…

Dean smiled as he watched you fall asleep out of the corner of his eye. Poor girl. Been through the ringer.

The same could be said for his little brother. He looked over at Sam, who had dried blood down the side of his face. All of you had made it out of this in one piece though, and Dean was as surprised as he was grateful.

He noticed Sam rub at his aching shoulder.

“You get some sleep too,” Dean said, though he held back a yawn of his own.

Sam looked over at his brother in concern. Dean almost looked as bad as him, even with Sam’s injuries. Dean looked like he’d been through hell. Likely from the stress of trying to find Sam, and you.

All thanks to Yellow Eyes.

“Dean,” he said, earning his older brother’s attention. “He knows we’re going to find him. We’re gonna kill him.”

Dean’s mouth raised at the corner. “Damn straight.”

“Have you thought again about what comes after?” Sam asked. “Last year, you seemed to think there was always going to be something out there to hunt.”

Dean hesitated. Again, he glanced back at your sleeping form.

“Yeah, well. That was last year,” he muttered. Before their dad died. Before he got a taste of what losing you and Sam felt like.

“I’m gettin’ tired of this,” Dean admitted.

Sam smiled a little. There was one thing he had agreed with John about. He wanted better for his brother. He wanted Dean to have a home too.

With that thought hovering at the surface, Sam let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He didn’t remember drifting off.

But when he next woke up, it was still dark outside. Sam blinked and yawned. “Dean, how far are we—”

When he looked over, it wasn’t Dean in the driver’s seat.

It was Yellow Eyes.

Sam jolted in his seat and leaned back in shock. He turned and saw you in the back, still sleeping, but it was Yellow Eyes next to him with a grin. Sam was dreaming.

“Hey, Sam,” the demon said. “Congrats on winning my little beauty pageant. I was always rootin’ for you.”

Sam seethed with barely controlled rage.

“You’re the one who’s going to lead the troops,” said Yellow Eyes. “You’re gonna be the Million-Dollar Man, Sammy.”

“Cut the crap,” Sam said hotly.

“You’ll be like a prince in the new world order, you know,” the demon continued. “You and your family will be safe…well, what’s left of it anyway. You’ll all be set for life, my friend.”

Sam glared back at him. “You think I’m an idiot?”

After a moment, the demon rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “That was a tough sell, even for me.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but the demon beat him to it.

“How about this. You’ll do exactly what you’re supposed to,” Yellow Eyes said. “You’ll follow orders, like a good soldier. Or, I’ll eviscerate Dean like a kid’s piñata.”

Sam knew that wasn’t an idle threat. But he swallowed his fear and stared defiantly into the demon’s face.

“Good luck,” he retorted. “You should’ve learned from our dad. Winchesters don’t die easily.”

Yellow eyes smirked. “Bold move, considering I got your daddy. Hook, line, sinker.”

“It took a shitty deal for you to even get a hand on Dad,” Sam snapped back.

After a moment of consideration, Yellow Eyes conceded that.

“Okay,” he said. But then, his eyes shifted towards the rearview mirror. Sam followed his gaze—to where you were sleeping peacefully in the backseat. Sam’s insides chilled.

“Now, I know Dean’s pretty protective of his things,” said Yellow Eyes, his lips curving. “But after today, I think we both know. Even he can’t be everywhere at once.”

He watched Sam hesitate.

“I wonder, just how much pain can be communicated through a soul bond?” the demon mused. “Do you think he’ll taste her blood in his mouth? Or will he eat a damn bullet just so he doesn’t have to hear her scream…and cry…and beg for death.”

Sam’s glare was fierce…

But he wavered. He looked out to the miles of dark, open road ahead. In his mind, he considered all the ways they could fight, and all the ways the demon would be able to get to you.

“I’ll break him, Sam,” said Yellow Eyes. It was both a warning and a promise. “Then I’ll break you.”

Sam took in progressively deeper breaths, stealing himself.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to Dean, or to you. He couldn’t take away his brother’s happiness. Not when Sam knew what it was like to lose it.

Sam looked back over at Yellow Eyes. Defeated.

“What do you want me to do?”

The demon grinned.

AN: *Cue Law & Order "dun dun"*

Not what you were expecting, was it? We've got a few more twists and turns to go before the big finale...

Keep reading: PART 12

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jina-juhi · 2 years

Text

the possibility of us.

pairing - yuta × female reader

word count - 7.7k

warnings - Panic attack (i tried to keep it short) penetration, protected sex, grinding, corruption kink, yuta is not angry and dom, controlling, over stim if i can say so? oral ( both receiving ) and literally everything that comes w this. choking!!!! yea. heh.

summary - You promised yourself you wouldn't fall for him, and you thought he could never fall for a girl like you. There was no way you both could be together, and even if there was one, your past wouldn't let you.

playlist

"eyes off you" - prettymuch

"phases" - prettymuch

"under the influence" - chris brown

"slow down" - chase atlantic

"show me" - black atlass

"safety net" - ariana grande

"used to this" - camila cabello

"chills, dark version" - mickey vallen

"3:00 am" - finding hope

"no guidance" - chris brown ft drake

Authors note:- so this whole thing is someone's request and i have not done justice to it. But here i am still hoping that they like it. I wrote like a whole seed to tree thing but it all got deleted and then I just left it to where my mind led me. I swear im working hard on my English vocab and duh sentence forming skills, but i hope you get the feelings mentioned below~~~

also if u wanna like request something~

m.list

so fucking loud.

The party was getting louder and overwhelming. You were quite alright just a few seconds back but it only takes a thought, to remember everything you want so badly to escape.

You danced like crazy, and drank. A lot. To forget. And now your head is hurting like hell and you don't know what to do or where to go, everything is spinning around and its all a blur. One thing that you could think of right now is your phone.

Searching your pocket and the couch you have been sitting on for so long, you can't find it. Its not lost its with Haewon, your friend. Sadly though your friend had to leave early due to some urgency, you thought it would be okay, you would manage but truly speaking, you're just a child. You try to be brave but being left alone is one of your biggest fears.

The fear kept building up since you were a kid and now it has settled in and made itself permanent in you. First it was your dad leaving you and your mom for a second family, then your mom in chase of her new life and then your so called first love who thought you were too fucked up to be loved. Leaving you like you were a crumbled up piece of paper ready to be dumped. Since then, you have not loved.

Not because you forgot, but because you're sacred.

You're scared everyone would leave you just like them and in the end, they'll move on, they'll live better but you're gonna be wounded. Trust me, you're already wounded enough to go out there and put a knife in your chest with your own hands. You know better or so you may think. That being alone, and not letting anyone in is the key to overcome this but truly, it is just making it worse. You can't help it.

You stumble on your way out of the once filled room with sweaty bodies, heels in one hands and a bottle of water in another. Your legs hurt more with every step you take, mentally cursing yourself for going absolutely reckless. You stand leaning against the main gate, supporting yourself so you don't fall in the wait of a cab.

You watch as tired bodies pass you by one by one. Everybody having someone to lean on to, you have a door. Not complaining but it feels sad sometimes not to have that one person who's always gonna stick by your side and other deep shit. It gets lonely. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you give up on waiting, shifting your wait from the gate to your feet, you start to walk in the direction of your home, finding it hard because of all the alcohol.

Not even two steps forward, you hear a faint voice calling your name, a voice you would recognise even after your death, a voice that could send you into overdrive in a mere millisecond. You find yourself panicking, why is he calling your name, he shouldn't be calling your name. He's supposed to be the mean guy like everybody says but he's good to you, he's supposed to be cold hearted but he's kind to you, he's supposed to ignore you like he does everybody else, but he treats you different.

Nakamoto Yuta is not supposed to know you.

But he does, and that's what got you falling for him. Hard. It began with a single look in the hallway, you were a fresher and he was in the senior year. You weren't allowed in the library back then which you didn't knew, so you went in to issue some books. A bunch of seniors saw you, scolded you for not abiding by the rules, they could have gone too far but Yuta kinda saved your ass in there. He'd been kind, which was very unlikely of him because they all called him cold-hearted, but you saw no such characters in him, he'd always been nice to you. No matter how much you refused you did had a minute crush on him since that day, which eventually turned in something you'd rather not give a name to.

You turn around to see a very familiar face, you could draw an exact replica of him with your eyes closed. You fumble, he hands are firmly griping you by your arms, holding you upright, "you okay?"

On usual days, if Yuta is taking the first floor hallway to get to his class, you'd take the third floor even if it means you'll be late by five. But on some very rare unusual day, when your hormones decide to throw random tantrums and make you realise how much dry of a pussy cat you have, you'd take the same hallway 0as he does in order to feed your brain with his mere looks alone, which would be enough for the next 5 to 6 days so you could go back on avoiding him, for the sake of your sanity.

Today, most probably was a usual day. Throughout the party, you made sure to not cross paths with him but always keeping in check as to where he was. He looked drop dead gorgeous today in that white tshirt of his, loose hair falling over his face blocking your sight of view but adding up to his perfection. Maybe, just maybe you might have been too obvious with that watching from afar game of yours you think he didn't notice but he does. He knows, he always has known. Boys like him, they always know.

"I just wanna go home." Your voice comes out tired and slurred, the alcohol in your system is probably damaging your sense of judgement, you're saying things you're not supposed to be saying.

"It isn't safe for you to go alone." His voice could make you fall to knees, yea that is the amount of power he holds on you. If he says your name one more time with that pretty mouth of his, you'd be curling into a ball and stay like that for the rest of your life because it would save you from the embarrassment of facing him with your red flushed face and needy eyes. Yes, you're a sucker for him and you don't like it. It's not about him it's about you. How could you risk everything again for just a crush. He's not just a crush. And what about the too fucked to be loved part? What if thats true? You can't risk losing Yuta.

"I'll tak- a cab or somethin you don't have to." Sitting in the same car, having him around you when you're drunk and could literally say anything is not a safe option, safer than going alone though but, it's just too much of a risk. He doesn't give you much choice when he says he's gonna drive you home and you're gonna be quite and let him. All those moments in which it was only him and you alone, all the amount of tension in the air there was is playing on repeat in your mind right now. What could possibly go wrong right? Nothing really went wrong before, but you also weren't drunk.

He takes you to his car, walking beside you still holding you tight. You didn't say but your stomach keeps hurting from time to time, probably from all the drinking you think. Opening the door for you he seats you in, placing his hand on your head carefully so you don't bump your head in the process.

You wait for him to come inside the car, hearts already beating fast. Don't know why but the alcohol has somehow made you more hornier and confident than before, especially him touching you played a major part it in. I mean your allowed to have a crush right, and even though you don't really want someone in your life right now you too want some, need some. How many days can you go without being touched? is two year a normal number?

"Put your seatbelts on." You were too disoriented to understand and implement, he repeats. "Oh!" You try to pull the seatbelt down, its stuck. Or maybe you're just weak. He notices you struggling. What happens next is not the first time, he does things like these often that do some unexplainable things to you. He would randomly place his hands on your shoulder in the middle of nowhere making you jump out of your skin, or rub his thumb against the back of your hand when you're having coffee with him. Play with the long strands of your hair, tangling then detangling them. Eyes contacts were definitely his thing, he's eyes would never leave yours during a conversation no matter how small or big, it made you hard to look at him and hold his gaze. These were some of those moments you couldn't get over even after trying hard.

This guy would be the cause of your death. All happens in one sudden move, he loosens his seatbelt, leaning over you extending his hand to reach the seatbelt that seemed to be really stuck, which he could have managed to pull from afar but no, he had to come close. Goosebumps from his wild eyes form on your skin when they watch you, like undressing you. Up and down and around. Biting and wetting his lips unnecessarily just to turn you on. You, on the other went stiff, for you it was like some one had pushed the pause button because every second felt so heavy, the weight of his gaze was so hard you felt your lungs crushing under the pressure. You could literally listen to your heart thumping in your ears like some one was playing a boombox on maximum volume. Afraid to take your eyes off of him, you just stare blankly at him, though that blank expression was more of a wanting one.

He knows what he's doing, the little curl on his lips showed that, and he knows the effect it has on you so he always over exaggerates everything that he does. You never stopping him is his motivation.

"Dumb girl" he mouths and secures your seatbelt. You gulp hard and release the breath you were holding in. Before you could register what had just happened, his hand was reaching for your forehead with a tissue. "You sure you good? you sweating like crazy!" poking his tongue he hands you the napkin, you pretend wipe your face, actually cursing him making you sweat like this. The ac is not broken, its his fault.

Its so fucking complicated it's like you've got this big crush which isn't even a crush anymore, and it is him who turned it into real damn feelings that you don't want. You know you're better off without him, without the feelings part. You're not ready for him. You'll never be. You know it still you always fall for him, even when you don't want to, even when you know someone's gonna get hurt in the end. It must be something that he said that got you off track. That got you thinking shit and feeling shit, you just can't ignore that anymore. A year is a long time to pretend that you absolutely do not adore Yuta. Its getting harder to pretend.

You crave him.

You need him.

You want him.

but no.

You're saying it as if he wants you too. The possibility of him falling for you is as rare as finding a galaxy in the night sky with naked eyes. Impossible. He's got high standards or maybe you're just not his type. He may play round and about but it's just a play. Not reality. And you've come to peace with that. You're not gonna try, you're not putting your heart at stake but if you do, just in case, there's no way you're gonna have your heart broken because after doing all the math and physics, the probable occurrence of this event called 'us' is zero, even after considering all the factors affecting.

There is a chance, but you wouldn't take it.

But even the greatest of the greatest laws have exceptions, don't they? Not everything can be calculated or predecided. Now who knew a day like today would come in which the drunk you would be driven home by a totally sober Yuta, and the very science that you thought was denying the possibility of you both being together is giving you an unforeseen factor that could change the whole equation, alchol. And alcohol, as we all know is a bitch.

Miserable looking you was sat on the passenger seat, hair tousled, body covered with sweat that glistened whenever light fell on it, lips dry and eyes tired. Though the heat you feel is undeniable, you try to not give in and have some sense of control over your mind that's floating in the pool of hormones mixed with alcohol right now. Pushing your hair back, you look out of the window, chasing the street lamps, counting them to keep you distracted. Clearing your mind, trying not to think anything. Not to feel anything, but the ache in the pit of your abdomen is growing with passing time. You see yuta roll down the window, his hair swiftly swaying with the breeze, what a sight to be witnessed, enough to distract you from your chosen distraction. Allowing yourself to calm down letting go of all the blood rush from before, you take a deep breath, sleep kind of taking over your body but the pain isn't allowing you to. Feeling even more uneasy, you shift a little in your seat pushing the feeling away. You try and concentrate on the moving landscapes, breathing deeply.

Yuta has been noticing you. Hes certain of what's bout to happen. He doesn't panic, he must have had the experience. He lets you take your time. Breathing helps for some time more, but doesn't prevent it. You have to throw up, "Can y- stop the car?"

In a minute, Yuta pulls over and you're out on the street seated by the footpath trying to empty your stomach. Yuta was seated by your side patiently with a water bottle in his hand, rubbing your back in sweet circular motion, and holding your hair back. "It doesn't wanna come out!"

You complain in a broken tone. "Who told you to drink that much when you can't handle it?" he says side eyeing you.

"It's hurting"

"Drink some water" And before you could, you were already throwing up. He calm you down, never once leaving your side, holding your hair back, he knows you're weak especially right now.

Cleaning up you pout, "I was feeling good"

"Now you're not, dumbass."

"Why do you always call me dumbass." you fake cry, more like dunk cry.

"Because you're too cute." He half chuckles.

"I don't wanna be cute." You snap at him. "I wanna be hot!" This makes him laugh. "And i wanna be cool and i wanna be free and i wanna be different and confident and happy and not dumb. I'm not dumb, though i like it when you call me dumb, but im not im not dumb!!"

He looks at you, amused, brows up like a puppy, smiling like a child at this new face of yours that, that he doesn't quite know how to describe it, but is adorable. "You don't talk this much when you're sober, you should drink often."

"And throw up like this every time."

"Yea maybe, it would be an our thing"

"An our thing?! Oh and i don't talk? you don't talk!"

"I don't because you don't, and i respect that."

"I- I don't? i do, i want to."

"What stops you then?" You think.

"Yuta." and you chuckle. "He makes me nervous."

His eyebrows furrowed for a second after suddenly listening to his name from your mouth. Conten and eager to know more, "Why?"

You sigh loudly, hiding your face in your hands, "It's hard to explain you know? It so fucking hard-!" by getting to the end of the sentence you actually break down into tears. Yuta sees this, suddenly extra concerned about your situation, he takes your face in his hands, cupping it, making you look at him. He has a soft expression on his face, a kind one. "hey there, don't cry, it's okay." he coos, wiping a tear away.

You sob a few times in his arms, trying to catch a breath. You don't know why and what you're saying, but it just flows out of your mouth, "I like him, i think i do, like so fuxking much. And it's sad because I don't think he likes me back, like why would he and even if he does, it's not gonna change the fact that im too fucked up to be loved."

He frowns, disappointed in you. Looking deep in your eyes, you try to hide away from him,"You're not girl. Look at me! you are capable of being loved"

"I don't think so. Even if i am, why will he ever like a girl like me!" You say blandly.

"What if he does?"

"You think he likes me?"

"All you need to do is ask."

"Why can't he!?" His hand leaves your face, wiping your fallen tears. Making you drink a little water with his hands, he slowly says, "what if he's afraid he would scare you away?"

You're tired eyes look into his bright one, searching for meanings you couldn't find. He helps you up, now that you've been feeling better than before. "Not if he holds me tight enough." Yuta doesn't reply to this rather his eyes glint, as if he was satisfied with your answer. As if he knew what to do now. He makes you seat in his care again, securing you with the seatbelt, too tired to even move your finger you let him guide you home.

Soon enough you were standing in front of your apartment, staring at the locked door and then staring at each other, "I'm sorry." you apologise because apparently, you lost the keys and no they're not with Haewon. "It's okay lets just go to my apartment." You nod your head, tip toeing behind him like a child, on the stares he lets you walk by yourself but watches out for you. In the car he gives you a bottle of electrolytes to sip on. In the lift of his apartment he practically have to carry your weight because your legs gave up walking and your brain stoped working.

_______

Wet kisses were planted down your spine, leaving a tinglish feeling behind. With every kiss your breath hitched a little more, eyes squeezed even harder. He plants a kiss at the bottom of your bare back. You arch your back, rolling your head back in pleasure. He stands up behind you, your knuckles turn whiter. He grips your hair in his fist, pushing your head back further enough to plant a small kiss on your forehead, then releasing the grip. Holding back a moan, you let a short breath out. Seeing your efforts at holding your moans back, he lands his palm flat against your clothed ass making you fall ahead on the counter. Smacking it hard again, making you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoes in his small bathroom. "Let me hear that sweet voice of yours baby." His voice calling you baby makes you dizzy, a whine leaves your lips without your permission, but on his command. Anything he wants you would do. Rubbing and groping your ass cheek he pulls you a little up by your hair, making you stand straight. He bites and nips at your earlobe. With his one hand squeezing your ass and his lips occupied by your ear, his other hands creeps it's way in front of you, dipping lower and lower until it cups your pussy, applying only slight pressure on your throbbing, untouched clit with his middle finger, just enough to take you over the edge. His hand is so big. He taps it, feather touches only. Once, twice and he continues slowly with long intervals in between the taps, leaving maroon marks on your shoulder. He only plays with you to make you wetter so you could take his dick, he's not letting you cum just yet, you deserve more, you deserve his dick and you deserve a grand climax, because you're his. Without much efforts he pushes you flat against the counter top, carefully though, he doesn't wanna hurt you. Delivering you pleasure is his only motive, and he does just that when he pulls your underwear down enough to expose your ass to him. You wiggle it a little in anticipation, and he gives in to your plea, after all it would be his pleasure to serve you. He greets you with a spank. And then another spank followed by intervals of him easing the pain and rubbing your ass cheeks untill you voice came out louder than the sound of his hand meeting your flesh. And in a blink of an eye your panty was slid all the way down and his thick girthy cock was being shoved in your already dripping aching hole. He was showing no mercy, fucking in and out of you at a demonic pace, looking like an angel! His long hair covering his face, slick because of sweat. He yanked you up with your hair causing you to scream out, still slamming in and out of you, this angle enabling him to go deeper. Sinfull voices getting louder and louder with every thrust, you hear him say your name, "y/n!" He sounds concerned. Furrowing your brows, "Yuta, don't stop!!" you whine as he slows down his pace.

Another loud call of your name forces you awake from your dream, panting heavily you adjust your vision to the lighting in the room. The first thing you see is Yutas face, concerned. Seeing him in your bedroom starled you, you hastily move back in defence, "what are you doing here" You question him in hoarse voice, your throat dry.

"It's my bedroom and you called my name. " he hands you a glass full of water, sitting by the bedside. That's when you realise the change in the intensity of light and the unfamiliarity of the duvet. Embarrassed, that you just dreamt of the guy sitting in front of you, you thank him for the water. You try to play the events of last night that might have led to this, nothing comes to your head. Its all a blank. You mind curse yourself, head hurting a little probably because of hangover. The second thing you notice is that the cloths you wore weren't yours, it was one of his black tshirts, as he owns many, and before you could look at him with an unquestionable question, "You were sober enough to change, I didn't." He answers. You relax your shoulders, sighing.

Just the very presence of him makes your head go into a never ending spiral. It was embarrassing looking like shit in front of him. You called my name, what the fuck. "Your head must be hurting?"

"Not really, I just need to take a shower." You say shaking your head confirming that you are alright.

He gets up.

You don't know what you did last night with him, or said but it feels like you pretty much fucked up in every way possible. You don't even know if the whole session was just a dream or you both actually really did something. You watch him uncover the curtains and opening the window so some fresh air could come in. He opens his cupboard taking out some pills, keeps them on the side table for you. Too busy thinking, you didn't hear whatever he said and watch him exit the room keeping a black tee on the chair.

whatever the fuck happened last night.

Taking the pills you went for a quick shower, wearing again one of his tshirt. Going in the another room, he already prepared lunch for you. You take the spoon in your hand, and it's some kind of soup. You smell it, the aroma filling you up. "You're not eating?"

"I am." he says sitting down beside you. You never knew he could cook, such a dream boy. You dip the spoon and circle it around in the bowl feeling anxious. "You talked quite a lot last night, you kno-" he bantered eyeing up playing with the spoon. Without a second thought you interjected, "What exactly did i say?" not looking at him.

"We have a lot of time to discuss that in detail, right now focus on eating." he poked, smirking. "Just tell if i said something offensive or you know, stupid I won't stay for long." Finally taking a sip of the soup while it's still hot. "Look outside, its raining." he says moving his head towards the window wanting you to look out. It indeed is raining, which means you will have to stay.

"So now that you're staying, why not have some fun? You play video games?" he asked cheerfully.

"No." you deadpanned.

"I knew, we'll watch a movie then." You look at him blond eyes, he's goofing around again.

He made popcorns, everything was set in front of his decent sized tv. It was like he was being extra cautious about everything, thinking twice before saying or doing anything. You on the other hand were embarrassed and awkward as hell. God only knows what beans you spilled last night, the possible things you could have that are coming to your brains are extreme. Plus he's not even telling.

He kept a decent distance between you two when he sat down on his small sofa, it was a small sofa so the decent amount means close enough to feel him right next to you. The movie was playing but neither of you were paying any attention to it. If it wasn't for the presence of the other, you could have both said the rain was distracting. Already tired and even more tired after forcing yourself to concentrate on the movie when exactly you dozed off to wonderland you didn't remember. One loud roar of thunder startled you back to life, "It's okey, just a thunder, go back to sleep." His words come in a low register, whispered close to your ear his hot breath almost tingling. You shift comfortably on what felt like a lap, shooting your eyes open you realised the position you were in and quickly sat up murmuring sorrys and fucks while trying to hide yourself, "When did i sleep!?" you mumbled, rubbing your eye, in order to avoid his.

"Sleep again you look tired." he pointed out looking at you. As if it wasn't awkward enough already for you to sleep in his goddamn lap. You shake your head, "No its good." You grin at him. His eyes never leave your frame. You shift to the left putting as much distance possible in between. He notices it. "Do I make you nervous?"

fuck yes.

It was like the oxygen was taken away from you. You tried breathing but it was useless. So this is one of the manys of what happened last night. "I said that?" He looks at you, nodding his head lights. "And they say one doesn't lie when there drunk." raising an eyebrow. Pressing your lips together you turn your head to the tv, "Let's not talk abo-" he didn't let you finish, "Answer me." He turns off the tv causing you to frown, "Answer!" You roll your eyes looking away again, it's hard maintaining eye contact right now. "What do you wanna hear?"

"Truth."

You look at him. For a minute nothing was spoken. You looked at him and he looked at you. And that was that. Many of the hardest one minutes of your life. You sigh out in defeat, giving up the eye game, he sits straight. "What else did i say last night?"

"Just that."

You laugh, "That can't possibly be true."

"Then you already know what you might have said last night." Wetting your lips, looking out of the windows, rain pouring harder by every passing hour, things getting more and more awkward. You could either tell him everything, and expect him to not act on it and be awkward Or you can just ask him to pretend last night never happened and let everything be awkward for the rest of the lives, because theres no way things are going back to normal, as if they ever were.

Clicking your tongue, "Will you drink hot chocolate?" The only way to avoid a conversation is a hot chocolate. It works most of the times. All you wanted to do was escape his vicinity.

You stand by the window in his small kitchen, rain drizzles over your face as it falls down, rainy seasons are gloomy, you think. Cold air rushes in leaving you cold and shivering, alone, in the middle of the darkness in this room with your thoughts which are way too louder than your capacity to hear. You don't know why but him knowing how you feel about him just complicates everything by a thousand fold. And what if he wants to be with you? What will you do then? Yes you like him but, you can't risk being in a relationship again. You've already lied to yourself everyday by believing that you'll not love him, but now you do. And the fact that last night will fuxk everything up between you two is saddening because you are going to say no and he will not be very appreciative.

If; he likes you back.

You feel his presence behind you. Not too close but not too far. You call out his name, he confirms. After a moment you speak, "Yes you make me nervous." trying to speak loud and clear but you voice only manages to come out in whispers. You hear him cackle. "I know." His deep voice goes straight down to your core, leaving you weak in your knees, he's standing just behind you. You feel his breath on your ear making you hold your breath, not moving even one inch. How desperately you want his hands on you and how badly he wants to sqeeze you in his arms and tell you everything he's been keeping inside for so long. Only if you knew. Only if you saw his face right now, looked into his eyes. You would know he wants you too, he always has. Since the day he saw you on your first day he craved you. Every day being by your side wasn't enough but oh he was just so scared to lose you after being told everything you've been through by your batchmates. He figured your past won't allow you to. So he kept quite. Falling in love with you everytime you looked at him, everytime you smiled at himz shyed away from him. He fell in love with the way you lived and laughed and cried. Just like you fell for him.

"Take a chance with me?" he spoke lowly, carefully. You turned around, facing him. Shaking your head no caused the tears to fall down that were building in your eyes. You kept shaking you head moving back untill your back touched wall. You sobbed, no you were practically crying like a child in front of him only it was on mute. He approaches you coming closer and closer it was like you lost your mind and your senses gave up on working. "I can't" you managed to speak aloud.

"Why?" he asks trying to stop your crying at the same time. Holding you by shoulders, gently stroking up and down, calming. "You don't know what happened."

He lifts your tear stained face up by his fingers, making you look at him, "I'm willing to know." he pushes further, caging you between him and the wall. "And if I don't understand, make me!" it's hard to understand the expression on his face. He's sad but, he's also angry. And frustrated and hurt but at the same time, gentle and understanding and concerned. Hands moving to cup your face, "You want me to confess first right? I love you okay? I have ever since god know when. And i know you do too so why the fuck can't you just let go and let me!?" The last part he says through greeted teeth while punching the wall behind you, you jump out in fear, "Fuck Im sorry." he apologizes under his breath, realising he's being to harsh.

He moves in closer, connecting his forehead with yours, "I'm sorry." he breathes out heavily, he's crying. He's hurting. "I can't help but think of what we could be." You open your eyes to look at him, tilting your face up a little, closing in the gap even more. His eyes are tight shut. "I can't help but think about you." He opens his eyes to look into your dark ones, getting lost. You both breathe heavily, hearts beating at the same pace, passion shooting through your veins. He closes the inches left in between you too, both of you close your eyes, nose touching, breathing in the air only the other can provide. His lips linger close to yours, quivering, afraid to harm you. Afraid to scare you. Chest heaving up and down in synchrony, lips ready melt into each other, only a moment apart, only a touch apart, still apart.

He draws a sharp breath in moving away but only slightly. You look down, the tension in the air is so heavy it could crush your weight under it. Tears still falling down like a waterfall.

"Please don't say no." he speaks in the quietness. You shook your head again, whispering "Don't cry."

He wiped it as quickly as it fell. "I'm sorry" you say, trying to move past him, but he stops you holding your hand, making you turn around. Gripping you face with only one hand he crashes his lips on yours, you pause. You didn't try pulling away, not because his grip was too tight but you didn't wanted to. When you moved your lips, he moved his. He held you by your waist with his other arm. Making you dizzy, holding you close you could feel his beating heart against your chest. Head tilted to deepen the kiss, body crushing into each other like planets colliding, teeth clashing like two swords in a battlefield, hands roaming the bodies freely, holding on to each other like you were to lose them the very next second. He could taste your tears in his mouth. He could taste his life. It was beautiful, it was perfect. In that moment you felt you could let go of everything that was holding you back, you past didn't matter in that moment. You saw one chance, one possibility.

Struggling to stand straight, he walks your over to the counter never leaving your lips. He slows it down, letting you breathe. Softly sucking your swollen lips. He takes your lower lip between his teeth, he bites it so hard you whince in pain, which only makes him lower his hands and squeeze your butt, pulling you lower body to meet his, grinding into each other, desperate for each other, not getting enough and wanting more and more. The visible bulge in his bottoms evidently hit the right spots, making you lose control, making you go wild and grind yourself into him too. The height difference makes it so much easier like his body was made keeping you in mind so you both could fit each other perfectly. His hands travel north, tangling your hair and pulling them down, which makes your head go back, exposing your neck to him. His lips leave yours, sucking in a new space found, leaving deep red marks, marking you as his.

It took one single thought to pull you out of it, again. You try to push him away, struggling at first, he backs off, and the moment he does you leave, "So you're going to ignore me now?" he says panting, making you stop and turn back. He looks at the red mark on your neck that he created. He chuckles, "Thats the plan? huh? Ain't gonna work." you're hurting him you know it. You turn around to leave, "You're gonna come back."

And you leave.

You just leave.

And like that, 5 months pass. The day turns into night and night into day, you go to college and come back home then go to college again. You see him every day and he sees you everyday and like strangers you cross paths. He started a new job, you heard. You started having panic attacks, he heard.

Sit and stare out of the window, thinking of all that you could have done differently. You thought not being with him or anybody would make things alright. Being alone would make your head clear and a little less messed up and then maybe you can go out date freely without having to be afraid of what might go wrong. But it seems like it all backfired on you. Now you have one more thing to forget, one more thing to carry everyday.

You thought you would get better, but little did you know it was him who was making you better. You thought you would get over him but you really do love him. You can't get him out of your head and he's gone, you fucked it all up. You broke his heart which ended up breaking you too.

Sitting on the couch in the parties is the only thing you've been doing lately. How long can someone pretend that they're okay? A month? A year? You've been doing it since your childhood. You're tired of pretending and tired of hoping that it's all gonna get better. You can't even pretend anymore to be honest, it's evident you do that you miss him. You've been sitting here for 3 hours, just sitting not drinking. What if you get drunk? Who's gonna drive you home you have no one. He's here too. Not drinking. Not looking at you, not thinking about you, rather having fun actually. he moved on?

Why wouldn't he, why shouldn't he? It wasn't his fault. You're the only one to blame. He cried, he begged you to stay to not say no, but you didn't listen to him. Why should he wait on someone like you. You push all your hair to one side letting them cover your face in an attempt to hide from Yuta, you can't help but watch him closely, laughing and talking and everything, he's faking it. You know him this much to know which smiles he is faking. And suddenly he is looking at you. Earnestly. 4 minutes of intense gaze and then you give up. Breathing already uneven and your palm is sweating, you know what's gonna come. You throw your head back to rest on the sofa and stare blankly at the ceiling.

I shouldn't have said no.

I should have stayed.

Why did I do it.

I knew you i wrong.

I broke his heart.

It's all my fault.

Something is really wrong with me.

I made him cry.

He really loved me, how could you!

"Fuck."

The walls were closing in on you. It was going dark before your eyes, you couldn't shut your brain up. It was like you were trying to breathe but couldn't like someone evacuated your lungs out of oxygen or maybe there wasn't any oxygen left in the air to breathe. Head was hurting like someone was constructing a fucking road on it. You were panicking, heart beating at an abnormally high rate, sweat collecting at the low of your back. You lose complete sense of the surroundings. You try to get up but can't, so you just sit there on the sofa in the middle of a crowded room, trying to breath, with your head down to your knees. The music and the people get too loud, it felt like they were screaming your name you shut your eyes and cover your ears with your hands, just praying this would pass away soon.

A jacket was thrown over you, over your head. He was rubbing your back up and down, in an attempt to soothe you. He makes you shift from the position you were in to a position where your head was down on his knees, and his jacket still covering your face. His hand creeps under the jacket to caress your hair and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, trying to make you focus on him, and on his voice.

You start crying in his lap, under his touch listening his voice after so many days, you missed him. His heart aches seeing you like this, watching you deteriorating day by day. He hated that he couldn't do anything, couldn't help you through it but he knew better. He knew nothing he could have said or done would have made you realise that running away was not an option, you have to face it, face your past and get over it, let go. And let love. Because what is love is not a risk? what is love if not taking a shot in the dark? what is love if not a mere chance? what is love if not a distinct possibility? Him trying would have just made you push him away even more! He wouldn't let that happen, so he waited on love. He waited on you. . He calls your name, twice "listen to my voice okay? It's okay, you're okay! Just try to breathe." You nod your head, the tears disappearing in the fabric of his jeans. "Let's go out okay?" He asks, after five minutes or so he walks you out of the room. Breathing the fresh night air somehow calms your nerves but you're still hyperventilating. He makes you side on the boundary wall that's pretty low. Your still a mess, eyes watering and breaths hitch you murmur small sorrys to him. The crying is just making it all worse, he noticed. Taking your face in his hands making you look straight into his eyes, "Breathe in." he asks you to and you do "hold." you hold your breath. "Release." you let go. At first it was hard but with his help you gained control again.

"I'm so sorry Yuta, i was i was trying to protec- protect you. I didn't wanted to hurt you i swear on my life." You sob. He nods, coming face to face "I know, you did your best."

"But I made you cry."

"because i couldn't see you hurting, also you left but i knew you were gonna come back."

"I tried that day, i wanted to stay i wanted to be with you but i couldn't i just couldn't bring myself up to believe that i was deserving to hold you. I-

I didn't deserve you, i still- "

"Don't complete that sentence or I'm gonna be real mad at you."

"no listen to me i don't have anything to give you I'm just I'm a messed up piece of shit i would've just wasted your time and energy."

"Well then you're my messed up piece of shit, whom i get to take care of because i want nothing but only you. And i totally wanna waste my time with you."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be, Its all good now"

You took a deep breath. Nothing is gonna change the fact that you hurt him, but he was wise enough to know you weren't intentionally trying to. Love. "I don't know what else to say but i love you"

"And that's more than enough babe."

"Ba-be?"

"I've been dying to call you that you know?"

"Why are you so good to me?" He just shrugs and ruffles your hair. "Wanna complete watching that movie together?" You sigh in relief nodding your head a big yes.

You thought he was taking you to watch a movie, but it was a whole different scene the moment you entered his apartment. He changed the lights. They are a warm shade of yellow now. He did put the movie on, but you weren't paying any attention to it. Your head was hurting because of the sudden attack you had at the party, so he insisted on sleeping instead.

You tried sleeping, but the smell of his perfume on the bed kept you awake. makes you reckless. made your thoughts run wild. You remember how it felt the last time you were here, in his apartment. The tension, the dream, the heat, the kiss. Not the fighting part of the whole situation, but the part where you were wholly in love with him. The part where you wanted to take a chance The part where you wanted to give him your all.

Feeling too overdriven by your train of thoughts, you get out of bed. You follow the noise that was coming from the kitchen to find Yuta making something. "What are you doing at this hour of the night?" You speak softly, standing by the door frame. He looks at you unfazed. "I assumed you were sleeping," I said. "The bedsheets smell like you." You walk behind him slowly, his eyes following your every step. "Quite distracting."

"If you weren't drunk enough the last time you were here."

"Then I wouldn't have been here."

"Fact," he says, nodding."Try it," he says, handing you the cup. He emptied whatever he was making, tea. "Since when did you start drinking tea?" you question, placing the cup down, trying to sit on the counter. He helps you jump. "Since hot chocolate started reminding me of you."

"I'm sorry," you whisper quietly.

"You don't have to do it, and you shouldn't waste your time!" He scolds you, taking the empty cup from your hands and placing it in the sink. "I'll say it as long as I need to."

"Useless "

Then how can I make it up to you? You can only tell. "

"Endless ways I can think of right now." There was a sudden change in the way he spoke. The hoarseness in his voice lingered in the air and warmth creeped into his eyes. The coldness in the air was replaced by this heavy heat of want that was engulfing you and him alive. "Like?"

Keeping your voice at a hearable volume, you make space between your legs by separating them, which was taken by him the very next second, "like finishing what we started." " You know what's coming next." The movie? " You put on the most innocent face you ever had in your life, looking him directly in the eyes, playing with him like he plays with you. "Now now, what a disappointment you are," he says while tapping your cheek with his index finger. Biting your lower lip, you say, "Someone used to call me dumb..."

"You're playing the wrong game, babe." He warns, tracing your jaw line and down your neck. He then lines your clavicle up and down, "You're gonna lose." He takes both his hands behind your back, pulling you closer with a jerk. His face was only inches away now, his lower body already in contact. You could feel him hardening against your pussy. He was this close.

"What if I want to lose?" You answer, your voice barely above a whisper, the taste of the tea still in your mouth, sweet, but you want his taste now. He chuckles lowly, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his voice firm and demanding, unlike yours. "Well then, wait for me in the bedroom."

It was new and exciting to get to see this side of him. Unlike his normal caring and soft self, this Yuta knew what he wanted. He is precious and just, and he needs no explanation for anything he does. "Oh and babe, undies off but keep my t-shirt on." You follow his command, going straight to the bedroom and removing your underwear and tossing it aside.

You wait in anticipation, but don't quite know what to do. You were pacing around the room like a mouse chased by a cat. Butterflies in your stomach won't quiet down. The mere thought of what might happen causes goosebumps on your skin.Sitting at the edge of the bed, you check the time. It's 12:30 in the morning and that's when he enters.

All of them changed. His demeanour was that of a wolf out on a hunt. And you were his prey. He shut the door behind him. His eyes were darker and his skin appeared a little bit colder than before. It's not like there's a third person but. You get up on your feet and just stand there in the middle of the room, a thousand thoughts in your mind playing every possible scenario that could happen. He drags a chair by its arm, situating it just in front of you, and sits down on it like a king.

"Come ahead!" he orders. You start walking in an instant, almost tripping. His voice alone makes your insides curl and your pussy clench around nothing. Wetness is leaking down.

"You really want to go down this road?" Changing his expression suddenly, his eyes glistened with a golden tint, probably because of the light coming in from the window. You try to play along, "Aren't we already down?" He smiles. "You can stop me anytime you don't feel comfortable, okay?" You nod, melting into his softness. How can this person do it? switching between personalities in mere seconds.

"I doubt I'll stop you." You push a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a little closer so your legs touch the chair. His legs were separated, and you were in the middle. The only source of light in the room was the street light, perfectly lighting up his face and your body. He lifts an eyebrow at what you just said, sitting upright in his chair. "Confident much? I like that. It won't be for too long though. " You shiver when his hands rub your outer thigh. He was waiting for a reply from you, but he was correct. The moment his hands touched your bare skin, all the confidence you were mustering up to talk back was thrown out of the window. His hands travel south and leave your skin hot, high, and dry.

You gasp at the loss of contact. Being touched by someone, by him after so many years, you don't think you can last in this game for even a minute.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

You manage an "uhhm..." as you brace yourself for whatever he's about to do. He relaxes in his chair. With his eyebrows lifting up and down, he asks you to sit on the bed with a simple but powerful command. "Sit."

You sit at the edge of the bed, your legs shut tight, your hands sweaty, and your mouth dry.

"Let me see you." You didn't quite hear him, but you heard him. It was just so shockingly sudden.

"Huh?" you stutter under his strong gaze.

"Lost already." He deadpanned. He was mocking you, and he knows it's affected you. "Spread your legs, sweetheart."

On his command, your agape mouth was shut, your legs already following his order, deciding to move on their own as your mind had given up on thinking ages ago.

The show hasn't even started yet, and he's enjoying himself watching your timidity in every move you make. "No, actually, shift a little back. Make yourself comfortable." He gets up and shifts his chair forward as you move back on the bed. He got a glimpse of your core while you were shifting. You know he did because you saw the expression change on his face. Right there in that split second, you saw him almost lose and regain his composure.

Not letting him speak again, you spread your legs wide and open. The loose t-shirt that was covering you shifts up automatically, leaving you uncovered for him to devour you with his eyes alone. You looked at him and he looked at your core, shamelessly. This somehow gave you some kind of power over him. He is too weak for you. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes and breathing deeply but fast.

The moment he opened his eyes and met yours, your soul definitely left your body. Your breath hitched, and you tried to look away from him, but his gaze was so hard it locked yours. You couldn't. "Touch yourself." You clench at his words, and he sees that.

"Be more specific." That was bold of you to say that. He almost choked on your words. You may be the shy girl who is affected by small things, but you are also a freak. Although you do want to lose, you'd still give it your best shot.

He poked his tongue under his cheek, nodding his head in approval of your regained confidence. "Touch your clit with only one finger and don't move it."

Very precise. You do as he says. There is only one finger on your clit, and there is no movement at all.

"Tap it." You do, lifting your finger up and keeping it gently on your throbbing clit. You clench again the moment your fingers touch, gasping out silently. "Keep on doing it until I say stop." He bites his lower lip as he watches you enjoy yourself at his command. The fact that you were doing it while he was watching you with his sinful gaze has already got you gripping the sheets and curling your toes.

You do it slowly, sensually, watching him watch you. He's affected in ways he can't explain and in ways you can't fathom. Feeling good, you take your lower lip between your teeth and close your eyes. You get more comfortable as you fully submit to the task you were given. You let your head hang freely, trying to be more vocal, but letting out soft whimpers only. You didn't want to give him too much just yet.

"Stop."

You hiss at him. Drawing in a sharp breath, you bite your lip harshly in agression, not wanting to stop but stopping anyway. You look forward to him, his dilated pupils eyeing you like a scavenger, making you light-headed. "Enjoying yourself too much?"

You nod slowly, your gaze never leaving his, and it drives him insane.

Warmth creeps beneath your skin when he gets up from his chair and motions for you to come forward. You get on your knees, the t-shirt covers you again and you crawl to him to the edge of the bed to where he was standing. Sitting on your heels, you watch him loosen his belt. Then he undoes the waist button and unzips his pants. He slides them down, revealing white boxers and his untamed bulge, which he somehow managed to keep inside and hidden.

You're dizzy by just imagining the size of him. You're unsure of what to do. Should you help him undress himself or should you just sit back and anticipate? Like a lost child, you wait for him to tell you. He asks a question instead. "I suppose you don't know how to give a blow job." Feeling belittled, you shook your head, looking up at him, "perfect." He compliments.

He slid the boxers down, his hard, thick and girthy dixk slapping against his abdomen, now free of any restrictions, standing tall and proud in front of you. You were too busy focusing on his perfection that you failed to keep up. He had already removed his shirt, and was now standing completely naked in front of you for the very first time. It's nerve awakening.

That is when you actually felt the gravity of the situation. It wasn't just some game you were playing; it was actually happening. You and he were actually happening. You fucking confessed to him yesterday! Yuta thought he was going to be angry and not talk to you at all because you broke his heart, but it's the complete opposite situation, he just couldn't be angry at you. Yuta knows better, good for you. He loves you. You love him and all your dreams about him were about to come true, he was going to make you his.

"Fuck!" You didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Like what you see? I bet you dreamt about me. " It was like you were hypnotised by him or you lost control of yourself. It was like you were high on some drug. Or maybe you were high on him because you weren't thinking before nodding your head when he asked you that question.

"What was I doing in them?" He takes his cock in his hands and starts palming it. You swear you saw it grow even bigger in size, as if it already wasn't. Too astonished to see the action just inches away from your eyes, you answer, "You were fucking me raw. From behind." You look up and gulp, "And you were spanking me, pulling my hair, kissing me, and marking me yours," you say in a small voice, so shameless, so pure.

"Get up on your knees." You do, inching yourself closer to him; he's still stroking his length in between. You look down, a new angle to admire him. You place your hand on his, your hand moving up and down his shaft with his. He slows down. "Want me to do all those things for you? Want me to touch you? " You looked up, mouth parted and eyes glistening to meet his dark ones. "Want me to pull your hair? want me to kiss you? fuxk you?"

You nod frantically consumed by your arousal, his voice travelling straight to your untouched, unlooked, un-taken-careof core, your wetness literally sliding down your thigh. It's hurtful.

"Oh baby, don't be that cute or I'll just have to fuck you right now." He says this restlessly before connecting his lips with yours. You let out a sigh of relief before giving into him. It was kind of the first physical contact he made after getting in this room, which has been nothing but hard for him to keep his hands away from you. He deepens the kiss. Tilting your face to the left, he locks his fingers in your hair, pulling them. The kiss was sloppy and messed up and just perfect, laced with desire and lust in every bit of it. Your tongues collided, your teeth clashed; you both just couldn't get enough of each other. Your hands rested on his neck, gripping tightly for support. He bites your lower lip making you gasp, then sucks it like candy.

You reciprocate his every move. You try to, but you are getting out of breath. His hands travel down your back, lifting the t-shirt up and gripping your ass, squeezing it hard. You say his name aloud, breaking the kiss, "Yuta!" Your forehead rested on his shoulder while he kissed and nipped at your ear while kneading you, "Yes baby, you like it?" You hum in response, lifting your head up and looking at him, holding him close. "Rub your clit for me, baby."

You bite your lower lip, lowering your hands and legs, your gaze never leaving his. You rub yourself up and down and in circles. He can't really see, but he knows. It makes his dick twitch. You let out a loud, breathy, dragged out moan, setting up a pace, "mhmmm shit."

He mimics that moan, his eyes burning with desire and lust. "Mhmmm shit... Nice and slow, yea baby, so good for me." You let out another breathy moan, closing your eyes but quietly this time, not wanting him to mock you again.

His finger was placed on yours, on the one that was rubbing circles on your clit. You jump, in shock or excitement, you don't know. Your brain seizes the movement of your finger completely, "Why did you stop?" he takes over. His fingers move up and down, making yours move as well. Resting his forehead on yours, he continues to play with you, making you whimper with every flick.

He moves your hands aside, your face contouring in pleasure when his fingers touch you, bare and raw, with nothing in between. There were chills running down your lower back, your stomach tightening with the pleasure he was delivering. Slowing down a little, he collects your wetness in his fingers, bringing it to your mouth to suck on it. You lick it first, then swirl your tongue around it, and then take it in completely, sucking like a lollipop.

You kiss him with your flavour in your mouth. His hands find their way back between your legs, rubbing your clit, up and down and sideways, the wetness making his movements sloppy, his fingers gliding frictionless on your sweet swollen nub. His finger circles your opening before carefully dipping it inside of you. You purr in his ear while his lips ghost over the exposed skin of your neck. His breath hits you every time he exhales, absolutely burning your skin to a hot red. You clench around his finger, not letting it escape. Well, you finally have something to clench around this time. He stays inside of you for awhile.

"Rub yourself again." And in no time, you're following his words, bringing your right hand to circle your clit. Now desperate to release, you don't go for slow motion but rather set a high pace.

"Slow it down."

You might be in disagreement looking at him but he gives you one look and you're slowing your fingers down. He pulls his finger out just to push it in again, and again, and again. You try to match your movements with his, setting a slow rhythm. You go up every time he pushes in, and that's how he drives you to your first orgasm of the night.

You've been at the edge for so long, you're coming undone with only one finger. You stop circling yourself and hold him to keep yourself up while his fingers are still working you up, slow and steady, riding you through it and pushing you into the beginning of the next one.

His finger was buried up to his knucles, deep in you. He places his palm flat against your mound. You press into his touch. Moving your hips to grind into his hand, breathing harshly, he supports your body and whispers praises in your ear about how good you are and the amazing job you're doing. Just when you thought you could cum again, he makes you stop and removes his hand from between your legs.

Licking his finger clean, he asks you to get on your hands and knees, "face down ass up, fast!" he said while pumping himself. The site of his hardened veiny dick was hard to look at. It was begging for your attention, but you weren't really confident with that. Instead of following his order, you stare at him palming himself. You look at him with a question written in your eyes. He understands what you're asking for but doesn't really acknowledge it. "Please." You kneel in front of him. He rolls his eyes, but gives you a look of content.

"My girl wants a taste."

You smile when he calls you his girl, "Yes. Your girl wants a taste." emphasis on the, "your girl."

When you bring your face closer and look up at him, ready to take him in, he curses under his breath, holding your head in place with his hands clenching your hair in a fist, in the softest manner. "Open your mouth." You do, also giving a little extra you stick your tongue out for him.

He places the tip of his dick on your tongue, gently sliding it in against the surface. You close your lips around it. He slides further deep into your mouth, controlling himself to not push in too deep. Very slowly, he draws it out, leaving you empty and wanting more of him. He lets you take a taste, though. Slithering against your tongue in swift motions.

You swirl your tongue around his tip, which is already leaking. You try to take him deeper but his grip won't let you he only fucks his tip in. Finally bringing up the courage to take him into your small hands, you wrap your hand around the base of it, applying slight pleasure, moving your hand up and down his shaft.

"Just like that." His voice boosts your confidence. He lets you play with him with your innocent little hands which are like a tease to him, until he can't take it anymore. Seeing you determined, his grip on your hair tightens and with his other hand, he moves your hands aside. He yanks your head back. "Open wider" He growls, as you do. And he slams his cock deeper than before. The sounds you produce are embarrassing. He goes deeper, causing you to gag, your heartbeat fastening even more all of a sudden. You mumble protest, telling him to remove himself and wrap your hand around his wrist, taking a hold of it. He withdraws himself, you cough a little, breathing deeply, then open your mouth again to take him in. He grins, "Now that's my baby!" tightening his fist around your hair and pulling your head a little more up.

He slides his dick down again, slowly and gently going deeper. He wasn't even going deep to be honest; he was just at the brim, yet your mouth was full of him. Hair messed up and eyes watery, swollen lips wrapped around his girthy member, saliva trailing down your neck, only acting as a lubricant. When he finally siezes his dick after seeing your tousled state and didn't want to cum just yet, you try to regain your breath. Holding your hair back, not pulling anymore, rather soothing your nerves down. Wiping a tear away, he devours your glistening lips with his, not taking any time to deepen it. Pushing you down on the bed, he hovers over you, keeping his knee in between your legs, very very close to your aching to be touched core. His lips leave yours, connecting to your still aching jaw. He leaves a warm wet trail of kisses down your neck and everywhere in between. Sloppy kisses were placed along your clavicle, purposely sucking and leaving red marks around, making you hiss in pain and take his name.

His hands roam up and down your body, making sure there isn't a single inch left to be touched and explored by him. His hand stretched the tee you were wearing, revealing only the upper part of your breast. He kitten licks the area, then bites the flesh and soothes it with a kiss, making every part of your body his, messed up, burning hot and so beautiful.

His lips go south, taking your hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking on it through the thin fabric of the tee. While playing with the other, Your lower body automatically starts grinding on his knee, trying to obtain some friction, but it seems to be not working, but you swear the amount of heat dissipating from just the mere contact was enough to melt gold and silver.

He is too intoxicated just by the way you feel against his lips. He brings himself back to reality to perform the second main job. He gets off the bed only to sink down on his knees in front of you. His face only a few licks away from your heat, you move closer to his mouth. He separates your legs further away, only able to look at you in full bloom this once. Drunk already, he dives in for a sip, and he is not disappointed. A long lick from the bottom of your warmth till up to your clitoris got your toes curling. While he laps at your juices, you curse his name a hundred times. He flicks your clit with his tongue, then sinks it as deep as it can go into you while nuzzling his nose to brush against your clit, it's a perfect blend to which he adds his fingers, the middle one he pushes in first. Out he comes to push it in 2 knuckles deep and then finally sink it deeper, curling it inside, making you roll your eyes back in pure bliss. You're feeling extremely. He adds another finger. That hurts a little but is soon replaced with pleasure. He works you up to your second orgasm, but doesn't let you cum just yet.

His hands leave your body at once, and you hold back a moan, trying not to sound desperate. His figure walks across the room where he must have kept his wallet.

You hear a wrapper being torn, goosebumps crawl up on your skin. He takes no time to return. "Make room for me." He gets on the bed, splitting your legs wider. He lets you rest in a comfortable position, keeping a pillow under your head. He drags his fingers between your folds, collecting your juices and spreading them on his member. You look up at the ceiling, aftain, excited, impatient. The yellow lights are forming abstract patterns on the wall. You feel his tip at your entrance, and soon he pushes it in with optimum pressure. You contract your muscles and your eyes shut tightly at the feeling. It's one of pain and fear and not pleasure. "Yuta, it hurts." You breathe out and call his name, your hands trying to grab his shoulders. He pushes in further, rather slowly this time while towering over you and coming face to-face, "Good."

You lift your hips up a little to ease out the passage, and he bottoms out. He stays like that for a minute. No words were exchanged, just the feelings being felt. His breaths are uneven matching with yours. He connects your foreheads together. You don't know if his eyes are closed or open. They're closed. You inhale him in as he exhales you.

"Fuck," he growls just before abruptly slamming into you, "Fuck."

And then it continues, and it hurts no more. He's fucking you hard and slow, going deep and deeper. Making you cry out every time he hits that spot. His voice is husky and low, sending shivers dancing up and down your body. You whimper under him. Your sounds, mixed with the slickness of your bodies crashing into each other, were playing on repeat; warmth and lust in the shade of red were decorating the room, and the orange glitched tint was illuminating the perfect parts of him and you.

He goes from a painfully slow to a pleasurably fast pace, no mercy he was showing, abusing your little cunt with his big thick dick, driving all the pleasure out for himself as he should, while giving you exactly what you wanted. So good. It feels so good to finally have him inside you, using you, destroying you to only mend you as whole, as his.

He's fucks you so right.

He lifts his body up a little, supported by his hands over you, looking at your contoured face. He slaps your cheek playfully in an attempt to get you to open your eyes and look at him while he fuxks the shit out of you. He grabs your hands and pins them behind your head. Oh, he knows you are going to come, but it doesn't make him stop or slow down. He continues fuxking you harder and harder until you come undone under him. Your body convulses. Waves of pleasure travel through your nerves, hitting your brain. Your vision go black and, for a brief moment, you lose complete sense of reality, being in a state of complete euphoria. You've never had an orgasm like this before.

And the best part of it all is that he doesn't stop.

He's drilling in and out of you at a monsteric pace. Your body writhes under him, trying to squirm its way out of his grip, but all these go in vain when his fingers wrap around your dainty neck, applying only the right amount of pressure to hold you down and keep your body fixed in its place.

When he loses control, his merciless pace becomes even more merciless, banging his head hard, fast, and deep all at once. His thrusts became sloppy and rushed. Chasing after his high, he goes feral. You watch him clench his jaw in pleasure, the sweat rolling down making his hair stick to his skin, his low grunts and humming sound. He's trying to contain himself. What a sight. It makes you want to cum again.

The pleasure starts building at the pit of your stomach again. You wrap both your hands around his hand, the one that was choking you, while rocking your hips back and forth, trying to match him, looking into his eyes, speaking with an unspoken language.

And that's how he fuckls you into believing that you are enough, for him and for yourself. That you are capable of being loved and taken care of. That even if you're messy and stupid and dumb, you're still perfect. That you can let go and you can trust. That you can be.

Be his.

And then he explodes inside of you. He couldn't be more grateful, couldn't be more precise in saying that his wait was worth it. You were worth it. He rubs you into your third orgasm. And after that, nothing was like it was before.

All of you changed.

All of you changed when he kissed you and told you that he loved you so much. All of you changed when you saw him clean you up in the after hours. All of you changed when he fell asleep beside you, taking you into his arms.

All of you changed when you met him for the first time.

______

did not proof read, but hope u liked it, The constructive criticism is accepted here, do leave a follow ~

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