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#dunno if i already showed him here lol
lovelymlem · 2 months
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goofy silly clown man... save me 😔
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mementoasts · 10 months
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jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london
#IM JUST POSTING HIM RANDOMLY BECAUSE I CANNOOOOOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME DRAW ANYONE ELSE. I HAVE APHANTASIA MAN IT'S HARD OUT HERE#i just started season 3 and heard him mention the graying hair i was like hm.. what if i tried drawring some characters.#i'm actually super happy with how he looks... i had some prior inspiration bc i followed one artist who's posted fanart b4--#(which is how i first heard of the series) and so i already kinda had a picture of him in my head bc of that (i love their art sdfghgfdjh)#so i was jus sketchin and i was like.... yeah this looks ok. i wanted his hair to be kinda just pokin up every which way in front--#--because i imagine him constantly running a hand through it. otherwise it'd look nice n tidy. i just sketched til it looked good enough#the eyes were easy because i wanted sharp and tired. the color was just me testin shit out and being like oooo that looks pretty#the outfit..... i just googled some like business casual stuff LOL. i thought it looked nice#bag and flashlight because he's dungeon crawling#he's also filipino for no reason other than i said so#OHHH YEAH freckles. freckles are cute. also worm scars.#i gotta say i didn't wanna put glasses on him but i thought he looked nakey without em.. but also it might be bc i was strugglin w lineart#the glasses make him look younger i think. which is bad!! he needs to look at least 35!!!#i dunno if i have it in me to draw the others;;;;;;;;;; martin i can't figure out a color scheme for-- and tim & sasha.... waauugghhh....#it's hhhhaaardd because when i'm like reading anything i cannot *picture* characters.... i just get like..... a feeling yknow.....#again i already had some vague images for jon (and martin) bc i saw fanart before lol so that's what showed up in my head#i have a good *feeling* of what sasha should look like but i cannot for the life of me draw it....#i keep sketching and going “noo this doesn't look like her” <- i DON'T know what she looks like#i've somehow instead ended up with a sketch that really feels like melanie tho lmao#if you're somehow at the bottom of this long ramble i will send you $500.#the void given form
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bejeweledmp3 · 1 year
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EVERYTIME. i go to twitter for fandom stuff. i remember why one should never go to twitter for fandom stuff lmao
#the things you will see there. people blatantly missing the point and being loud and annoying#and talking about discourse and getting into discourse and showing some of the most base level lack of empathy or comprehension opinions#shit is bad here but oh god. that site brings out the worst in people#talking tag;#also on another note the more i think about it the less genuine it feels for the tv versions of joel and ellie#to not speak for a full two years lmao#it doesn't i mean it probably didn't in the game but it DEFINITELY doesn't in the show those two are Attached they are everything they care#about in the world#i can absolutely see ellie getting pissed etc etc#but two years of silence???? shut up#literally They Would Not Fucking Do That#i still think that REDACTED is happening and it will hurt just as much#also i already feel bad for whoever is cast as abby like!!!! it's going to get uhhh not good#i do think they'll try to keep pedro around for longer if anything for emotional attachment also that's pedro pascal you can't do REDACTED#to him just like that ep 1 or 2 and expect people to just. take it#i'm curious about how they'll adapt part two because you KNOW hbo is aware about it being divisive#which is Bad for your big money making audience growing show#there's just so much at stake with a big hbo profuction i'm curious how that will change things (if it does)#just. i dunno i still don't think i'll be able to watch that shit happen#and people in twitter definitely don't help!!!! lol lol#i'm tagging this just in case. but yeah#the last of us spoilers#tlou spoilers
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kithtaehyung · 4 months
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
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title: broken (pt. 2) 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 | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god
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smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))
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There’s no way.
How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 
“No fuckin’ way.”
Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 
“Were they always on this team?” 
“No.”
“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”
They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 
It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 
The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.
Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 
Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.
And your heart burns and burns.
If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 
God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 
“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.
“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”
“Play.” 
Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 
One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 
Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 
“And you’re paying me double.” 
Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 
But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 
After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 
Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 
Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 
But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.
Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 
Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,
“Don’t worry, love.” 
You stare.
“This will be over soon.” 
-
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The game is… just a game. For now.
No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.
Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.
And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 
“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 
That was close. Way too close. 
Get it together. 
But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 
And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 
However. 
When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 
On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 
Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 
Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.
Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 
You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 
“I need you all to calm down.” 
“No can do, coach.” 
“Not if they aren’t.” 
Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 
Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 
And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 
Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 
“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 
“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 
Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 
Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 
And you don’t like it one bit. 
But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 
And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 
Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 
Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 
“What?” 
“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 
“After what he did to you?” 
The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 
Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,
“I can’t let that shit go.” 
“Yoongi.” 
“Sorry, doll.” 
“Please just—” 
Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 
Only for him to be just out of reach. 
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After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 
From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 
And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 
Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 
Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.
If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 
Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.
Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.
The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 
Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.
A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 
What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 
But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 
Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 
All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.
It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 
Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 
And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 
Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 
Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 
And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.
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Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 
But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 
Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 
Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.
It’s making you wonder if… 
Nah. 
That’s still too big a reach. 
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When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 
Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”
Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”
“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”
“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”
Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—
“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 
Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”
“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”
“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 
God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 
Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 
Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”
“You sure? That looked…”
Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 
Motherfucker. 
Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”
Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 
Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 
“Mm.”
Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”
“What are y’all talking about over there!”
Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”
“I picked already!”
“Then let’s go then.”
Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.
Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 
Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 
Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 
In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 
And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 
Weird. 
But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 
“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 
We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 
Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 
“You’re whipped.” 
“No, you.” 
“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  
And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 
The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 
Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 
“Taehyung.”
Your eyes shake. 
“Get her out of here. Now.”
And you’ve never screamed so loud. 
Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 
To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 
“No! What the fuck—” 
“We’re leaving.”
“Please—!”
There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 
“Babe, we have to go now.” 
“No, let me go!” 
They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?
You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 
Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 
Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 
Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.
And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.
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Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.
Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—
As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”
“Do what!”
“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”
“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”
No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—
Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”
“Stop and just think for a second—”
“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”
“Dumb as fuck!” 
Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.
Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 
From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 
“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 
“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.
Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 
“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 
Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 
Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 
Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?
Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 
Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 
Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”
When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”
Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 
You want to believe him. You do. You do. 
But hope may be a bitch. 
So you don’t. 
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Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 
You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 
The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”
With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 
“You okay?”
“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”
We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”
“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 
You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”
Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 
“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 
Oh. 
“Your brother’s here, too.” 
“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 
“Umm.. Yeah.” 
As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 
It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 
“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 
You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 
“He was gonna—”
“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 
And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 
That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 
Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 
“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 
“Fuck that.” 
“Huh?” 
What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 
“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 
“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 
And you mean that. 
“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 
So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”
And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 
-
-
You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.
Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.
And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 
-
-
Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.
Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.
They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 
As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,
“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 
“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 
“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 
But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 
“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 
Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”
Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 
“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 
You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”
Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 
And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 
Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 
But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 
“I will.”
“I’m serious.” 
“I will.”
Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…
No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 
So you leave to go pack without another word. 
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It’s raining. 
Hard.
And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 
With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 
Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 
So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 
Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 
Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 
A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—
Your eyes burn. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
No answer.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
Pick up. What the fuck.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.
Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 
Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 
Yuri: Outgoing Call
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m not coming.”
“You okay?”
“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”
“Yoongi’s? Why?”
Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 
Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 
Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—
“Hello?”
“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”
“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”
“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”
“I won’t. Not about this.”
“Thank you.”
“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”
“Okay.”
Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 
Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 
But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 
After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 
Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 
And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.
Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 
But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.
Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.
Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 
After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 
Finally. “Hello.” 
“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 
“You’re here?” 
“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 
But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 
“Not tonight.”
Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 
“Not tonight—”
“—you don’t let me in I’m—”
“Go home—”
“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”
Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 
And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”
“No.”
“Go home.” 
“No!” 
He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 
“Please.”
Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 
You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 
Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 
You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 
Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 
“…No.” 
You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.
And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 
But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—
“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—
A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.
As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 
And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 
Shards. 
Pieces.
Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 
And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 
Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?
“I told you, doll.”
You choke on a sob.
“Go home.”
Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.
No, no, no. Get rid of it. 
Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 
A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.
What did he do, what did he do?
Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.
Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.
Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 
Shit, this is everywhere. 
When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.
“Stop.”
Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”
“Just go, please.”
“No.”
This hurts. 
This really, really hurts. 
Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.
But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 
Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 
“I got it.” 
“Let me do it.” 
“Your brother needs you.”
“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”
It hurts.
He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.
But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 
When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 
In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 
Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.
Shit.
While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 
This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.
You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 
One more. Two more. Another one here.
As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.
Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.
The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 
Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 
Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 
“I still need to—” 
“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 
“Do what? I’m helping you.” 
That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 
But ice. 
“Who said I needed it?” 
And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 
“You think I’m joking?” 
“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 
“I say a lot of things.” 
…Oh.
That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 
Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”
Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 
As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 
Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 
“Not tonight what.” 
“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 
“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 
Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 
He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 
“I am.” 
“Wow.” 
That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 
“Do you even know?” 
“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 
“That’s cus—” 
Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 
For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 
All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?
Fine then. 
“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”
“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 
Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 
Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 
“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 
And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 
“Who asked you?” 
Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 
You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 
“That’s what I said.” 
Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 
You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 
“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 
God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts.
You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 
Silence fills the room.
And it rains. It pours.
But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—
Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  
And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 
“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 
“Whoa, hold u—” 
“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 
“Just listen—” 
“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 
Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 
“I swear to—” 
You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 
“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 
“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 
And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 
“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 
“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 
“He’s still home.” 
“So?”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 
Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 
Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 
Your eyes are ice. 
“Are you.” 
You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 
And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 
“Goddamn it.” 
Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 
Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 
Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 
“Stubborn.” 
“Coward.” 
Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 
“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 
“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 
His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 
“Make me.”
Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 
And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?
This is liberation. 
You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 
“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 
Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 
With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 
“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 
You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 
“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 
And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 
And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 
Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 
“Holy fuck.” 
Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 
Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 
“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 
You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 
“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 
“Can’t make me do shit—”
Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 
Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—
Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 
Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 
And it’s maddening. “Please!” 
“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 
And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 
It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 
“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 
“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 
You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 
And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 
“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 
Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 
Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 
“What was that?” 
“I said fuck you!” 
“Thought so.” 
Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.
“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 
“Fuck—!” 
“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”
You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 
Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 
“Asshole—” 
A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 
“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 
Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 
You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 
“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 
“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 
Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 
Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 
“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 
Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 
“Fuckin’ thought so.” 
When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 
Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 
The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 
“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 
“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 
“What, doll.” 
“Please!” 
“Nah.” 
Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 
Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 
Every. Single. Time. 
Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 
“Please!” 
“Mm. Not loud enough.” 
“Yoongi, please.” 
“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 
“Do it yourself then.” 
Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.
And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 
His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—
Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 
“Nah.” 
This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 
“You’ll come when I say you can.” 
“Please! …Please..”
“You done being a brat?” 
“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 
Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 
You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 
Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 
“Then fucking come.” 
And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 
Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 
Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 
“I said again.” 
Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 
“Yoongi—” 
A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 
“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 
You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—
“Baby.” 
But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 
“Babe.” 
“I—I—” 
Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 
You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 
They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 
“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 
“There you go. Keep going.” 
You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 
“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 
You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 
“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 
You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.
“I’m sorry.” 
“Nothing to be sorry for.” 
“I’m really sorry.” 
“Babe.” 
“You told me so many times—” 
“Breathe, angel.” 
You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 
“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 
“Like what?” 
“Just… Like this.” 
“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 
He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 
And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 
“I’m here.” 
“So please don’t push me away.” 
“I won’t.” 
“I know you don’t make promises but—” 
“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 
Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 
You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 
“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 
“Hmm?” 
“Shower.” 
“Oh. Okay.” 
You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 
As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 
Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 
Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 
That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.
And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 
He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 
Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 
Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 
“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 
“I’m fine.” 
“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 
Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, doll.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Promise.” 
And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 
There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 
But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 
“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 
“Nope.” 
“I wore the outfit that day.” 
“Doesn’t matter.” 
“And lost my friends at the club.” 
“No.” 
Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 
“How about we share it.” 
Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 
“Okay.” 
After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 
A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 
His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 
Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 
“Duh.” 
He’s himself again. 
And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 
That’s all you both need to feel peace. 
-
-
You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 
But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 
Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 
“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”
Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.
In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 
Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 
Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 
Scroll, scroll. 
“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 
Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 
Scroll, scroll. 
“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”
“I love you.” 
Time bursts.
Your chest glows. 
Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 
And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 
You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 
His eyes. 
Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 
No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 
“I love you, doll.”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 
Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 
No. 
Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 
“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 
What?
“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 
You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 
And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,
“Goddamn it, I—”
“Yoongi—”
“—so fucking much.”
Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 
Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 
He loves you. 
Fuck, he loves you? 
You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.
He loves you.
Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?
Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 
There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 
“Yoongi, I—”
He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”
Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 
“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 
“It’s not.”
“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 
After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 
There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 
“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 
“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 
None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.
When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 
And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.
His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 
“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.
“Knew what?”
“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”
You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 
“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 
Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 
“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 
“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 
Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 
“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 
Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 
Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.
Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 
Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 
“I want what you want, doll.” 
“Then it’s okay.”  
Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 
But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 
When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 
And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 
“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 
His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 
As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 
“Holy fucking shit.” 
“Yoongi—” 
“Fuck.” 
Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 
No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 
Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 
And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 
You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 
“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 
“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 
Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 
“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 
“You’re a little too perfect right now.”
Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.
“You are.”
“Nowhere close,” you whisper.
His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”
“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”
His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 
“What—”
Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 
Again. 
You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 
You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 
Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 
“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 
The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 
And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 
“Taking me so well like this.” 
“I—”
“So fucking tight.”
Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 
Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 
“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 
Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 
“Uh uh.” 
“Please—please—” 
You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 
Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 
And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 
“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 
“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 
Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 
You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 
He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 
Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 
“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 
Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 
But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 
As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 
Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 
And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 
“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 
“A secret?” 
“Mmhmm.” 
Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 
Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 
When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 
“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 
His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 
You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.
You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.
Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 
All of you.
Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?
You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.
Every single stop.
It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 
Swelling, you already feel close. 
But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 
This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 
And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.
Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 
How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.
“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.
Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 
“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 
Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 
As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 
When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Oh, I already know.”
“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”
You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”
Yoongi only grins. 
And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.
Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 
No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 
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After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 
“I know.” 
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.” 
“That’s what you said last time.” 
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you. 
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 
Oh. Wait. “What?” 
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 
“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 
“You love it.” 
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 
“Guess what.” 
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 
“I can!” 
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 
And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.” 
Oh. 
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.” 
-
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tbc. :)
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so... how did it go! | join the server!
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a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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euaphoric · 11 months
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・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・ ゜
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✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader (established relationship) ✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, very suggestive but no actual sm*t in this, cute kissing & cuddling hhh, oc is called “little girl” like once
another 4 am post, im on a roll w these hehe >:3 but i just wanted something to post for my bday (even tho this nothing to do w birthdays?? LMAO) and i can’t get this damn live out of my head like he’s fckung inssne sffdsgsh n e ways this is lowk corny but enjoy lol.
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the faint sounds of birds chirping awoke you from your nightly slumber, eyes fluttering open to your wide awake boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he seemed to be very focused on whatever he was watching, wondering how long he’s been awake for. you prop yourself up slowly on your elbows, barely able to move a muscle from feeling sore by last night’s events. you two can go at it for hours at a time - you forgot how much of a real workout it is being on top. it’s impossible so hard to resist him though, you love that jungkook has just as much of an insanely high libido as you, literal match made in heaven.
waking up to him everyday already felt like a blessing in itself honestly. he was the epitome of perfection; in only a pair of boxers, staring at his chiseled figure, toned biceps, those muscles?? yeah you were beyond down bad for him. but he was just as down bad (debatably more) for you too. your raging hormones were really getting the best of you. your first thoughts were to violently make out with him but instead you settle for some sweet cuddles right now, coming closer to nuzzle in his bare chest. “g’mornin’ sleepyhead.” jungkook mumbles, averting his attention to you instead of the screen. “took you long enough to wake up!” his arms went to cage around your form. “what time is it babe?” you ask, a slight yawn slips out, still feeling groggy.
“7 am.” “wait- really?!” you were so confused, you weren’t expecting it to be this early since usually you don’t wake up until around 10 or 11. “yeah, i didn’t get much sleep though.” his soothing touch runs down your back, pressing delicate kisses to your forehead. this was home to you; feeling his warmth against you, listening to his hums as he cradles you, never wanting to leave his embrace. you were living rent free in your boyfriend’s arms 24/7.“hmm, what should we do today?” you ask, peeking your head out a bit. “dunno… why don’t we just stay in and watch some anime?” his lips proceed to attack your face, pecking kisses all over until you’re physically sick of it. unable to utter a single word out from all the smothering, you just let him do as he pleases.
“but we do that everyday already koob.” you finally get to say once he comes up for air. “and? i see no objection here.” god he can be so stubborn at times… “c’monn, we should go do something today..” you pout, feeling bratty over his unwillingness to be social. you love staying in bed and binge watching shows with him but for some unknown reason you wanted to be adventurous today. “actually, i know what i wanna do today.” he smirks, biting his lip at you. of course, he only wants to stay inside because he’s horny-_-
you let out a tiny scoff, “ugh, perv!” nothing he says should ever surprise you anymore but it’s still fun to tease him. “only for you though.” he chuckled, pulling you back in but this time plants a wet kiss to your lips, “truthfully i just want you all for myself.” his hand brings your leg over to wrap around his waist. “such a selfish boy.” you tease some more, combing the disheveled strands of his silky hair. “mhm mhmm, that’s me.” he proudly admits, he acts very territorial over what’s his and would def gatekeep you from everyone if he could, no one deserves to see his precious bb but him:( “i’m still hella sore from yesterday, i don’t know if i feel like doing anything right now.” you timidly reply, butterflies forming in your tummy as he casually traces circles to your thigh. his eyebrows furrowed, “who said you had to do anything?”
he catches you off guard when suddenly his body shifts underneath, positioning you to be below him while hovering over you. when leaning in he stops midway to stare and admire your pretty lips, wanting so badly for them to be on his. he closes the distance to finally kiss you, giving you a million more butterflies as your body sinks into the mattress. you can sense all the passion and longing from just kissing him, it’s desperate yet filled with fervor, you feel his love immensely. when he gnaws your lower lip as entry, it becomes more heated - a full-on make out sesh occurs. fingers all tangled up in his locks while he caresses your upper body, lips moving perfectly in sync with one another. soon as you wrapped your legs around him a switch goes off in his brain, he needs you, like expeditiously. jungkook sneaks his hands up to your arms when he breaks away, pinning them above your head, you don’t know why but your first reaction was to giggle which puzzles him. “what’s so funny hm? keep thinking i’m playing little girl, i’ll have you begging we stay in.” he remarks, eyes shading darker as he doesn’t find any of this to be a laughing matter. “koo i-” he quickly cuts you off with another breathless kiss.
“shh, just lay back and relax pretty, let me do all the work for you.”
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agendabymooner · 6 months
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SOMETHING DIVINE !!! TOTO W. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: toto shows his appreciation for his pregnant wife. (part two-ish of something intoxicating)
💌 re:moony's planner request: "reader actually getting pregnant after toto fucked her out after a long neglect and him being really exited for this chapter in their life."
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, insecurities, pregnant!reader, body worship, breeding/impregnation kink, creampie, i did not proofread this lol
note: i am not sure if this was meant to be a fluff or a smut request so i decided to 🤷‍♀️ make it a smut 🤷‍♀️ enjoy xx (also! please don't hesitate to give me your opinion!!!)
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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he didn’t think that she could get any sexier than she was before. but alas. 
here she was: her figure, her sweet sweet figure, had a small protrusion on her stomach that indicated a sign of life within her. she was the most attractive woman to have ever existed, and, when they learned that they were expecting, there was a growing sense of protection and primal desire within toto that he couldn’t even explain.
he couldn’t help it; his cock wouldn’t stop from making itself hard after looking at her body. she was growing a life, for fucks sake— and she was doing so in the most amazing way possible. it was making toto hornier than usual. 
but she wasn’t aware of it. in fact, she often voiced out how her skin continued to stretch and showed marks as the baby progressively grew.
her insecurities, ones that continued to grow as much as her baby did, were something she hid away from toto. she didn’t want to make them a big deal considering that he was already stressed enough during this season.
she often spoke to lewis’ physiologist, angela, about this kind of matter and hadn’t approached anyone else as she continued to spend her time at the paddock. if anyone else knew— they’d immediately tell toto. that would mean that she was burdening her husband with this matter. 
toto hadn’t meant to walk in the conversation, but he couldn’t find himself to refrain from listening when she and angela spoke while in the garage.
“the baby’s growing real fast,” angela told the woman with fascination, “i reckon he’d have long legs like his daddy.”
and instead of offering a happy laugh, the woman let out a small pitiful chuckle as angela then asked, “oh no. don’t tell me—?”
toto’s wife sighed, “i dunno. i’m supposed to be happy— and i am! ‘s just—“ she placed her hand over the stomach and rubbed the bulge soothingly. she continued, “i don’t feel like this is me. my body— dunno. it’s silly, don’t you think?” 
“it’s not,” angela reassured the woman. “it’s normal to feel that way. you have to understand that your body is growing a baby and that they require a little more space than food usually does.” 
“i shouldn’t feel bad,” the woman said with a solemn smile, “i’m very excited, really. this is my first kid— this is toto’s first kid. but at the same time i feel like i’d lose his attention the moment this kid pops out and i don’t have the body i used to—“
“hey, hey!” angela gave the woman a warning look, “enough with that. you look absolutely divine— toto would be stupid if he doesn’t appreciate your body and what it’s doing for his son.” 
toto stood behind the door and continued listening. he wasn’t sure if he was upset at his wife for not coming to him sooner to talk about her feelings. but he was certain that he was upset at her for thinking that she wasn’t worth being appreciated because of her body. 
he had to do something. he could still do something as a loving and appreciative partner while she did all the hard work. 
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and that’s what he did. he couldn’t help himself when she came out of the bathroom with nothing but a slip dress on that night. the way her silk nightwear accentuated her curves made toto’s cock twitch in his trousers. 
he couldn’t help but sink down to devour every part of her. at first, she wondered what prompted him to act like this— to act so… primal and overly worshipful. but as soon as his mouth attached itself to her tender skin and fragile figure she was long gone, a gasp escaping her lips while she begged for him.
and who was he to deny his pretty, fragile wife? he would be damned if he hadn’t done anything to make her feel loved— he’d give her the world, should she demand it. 
she whimpered quietly as toto thrusted into her cunt gently, her eyes close to tearing up because of how toto treated her like she’s bound to break at some point. 
his hands travelled down her body as he groaned softly, rhythms of his hips slapping against hers were adagio as toto’s thumbs played with her stiff nipples. he hummed, “so eine hübsche frau.” such a pretty wife.
“you should see yourself, schatz,” he growled, his cock bottoming out in her as she let out a loud moan. “you’re growing my baby— our baby. haven’t seen something so beautiful before. fuuuck~ you are so sexy, it makes me want to fuck more babies into you.”
she sobbed desperately, “ngh~ i- toto.” her heels dug into his hips harder as she lifted her hips up to meet his halfway through. “want you.”
“‘m here, liebling,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as his pace turned up to presto as they both let out endless sounds of pleasure. the tip of his cock reaching her cervix as he began pounding into her relentlessly.
“please fuck me harder,” she begged. “wan’ you to fuck me.”
“i will,” he shushed her, “but i can’t help it. this body of yours- fuck- makes me want to take it slower. you’re so beautiful like this- all pregnant with my baby.” he nipped on her tits as he hummed in satisfaction.
“makes me want to give you more after this one comes out,” he said darkly, kissing her hard as he began to fuck her harder. “gonna give you more and make sure these tits are full of milk.”
“mm, fuck- toto~” she cried out, feeling too overwhelmed by the pleasure and excitement she had gotten out of his words and his actions. 
her cunt clenched around his cock as he chuckled sweetly and said, “oh? you want more kids then? you want to be my pregnant little wife full of my babies?” 
she only nodded frantically. toto continued to fuck her until a loud strangled noise escaped her lips.
“o- oh, fuck. ‘m cumming,” she announced, holding him closer as his thrusts became harder and faster as they both reached their highs. 
“god— fucking hell, schatz,” he muttered hastily, groaning deeply in her ear as he said, “i’m gonna cum. where do you want me?”
“i- inside, toto- fuck!” she cried out, her body shaking as her walls throbbed around him. “cum inside me, please!”
toto’s hips stuttered for a brief moment as he let out a groan, shooting his cum inside her cunt as he thrusted slowly before stilling.
with a breathless sigh, he slowly pulled out of her and watched his cum escape her hole and drip down the mattress beneath her. he looked at her fucked out face lovingly as he gave her another kiss. 
god she really was fucking divine. he wouldn’t be surprised if she was pregnant again shortly after giving birth to their firstborn. 
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015
♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129
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multifandomlover01 · 2 months
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Not Some Innocent Kid
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Based on @reidswhore post about “innocent” Spencer vs. not so innocent Spencer and fic semi-requested by @reiderrambles
Warnings: 18+ MDNI fairly neutral dynamic but sub!reader and soft!dom Spencer if you wanted to label it, Derek talking about his “conquests”, teasing Spencer about being inexperienced, loss of virginity mention, mention of reader “not being a screamer”, orgasm denial mentioned, overstimulating mentioned, neck nibbling/kissing, orgasm denial depicted, reader screaming, condom mentioned, no birth control mentioned, affectionate sex, lots of terms of endearment used, slightly insecure Spencer, praise kink, slightly OOC Derek, slightly OOC Spencer
Summary: While Derek is talking about a woman he recently slept with, he makes a comment about her and then about Spencer (and his inexperience with women and pleasure), causing Spencer to get lost in a daydream that directly contradicted what Derek just said (Spencer is very capable of bringing a woman pleasure)
WC: ~1.2k
Disclaimer: not the most polished or finished it could be but…here we are lol screw dialogue tags…who needs them? (Me…I need them)
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Gif not necessarily indicative of timeline placement…but it’s an estimate
Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up, Derek.
Spencer thought this but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. Derek was going on and on about how great he was in bed and took every opportunity to tease Spencer about how virginal he seemed. But Spencer was far from a virgin. Not long after he’d turned 24, he’d lost his virginity to his equally as quiet and reserved team member. No one would have suspected, least of all the two of them, that the dam would break that night for them and they’d be insatiable for each other.
They couldn’t stop. Every private moment was spent together mostly naked with their hands and lips all over each other.
“Yeah, I had her screaming my name. Bet you don’t know what that’s like, do you, kid? Well…your time will come.” Derek teased him.
Spencer suppressed a smirk as he thought of the most recent intimate encounter with his friend with benefits…or lover…or partner (he wasn’t quite sure what they were if he was being honest).
-
“You like that, baby? You like it when I don’t show you mercy? When I use you like a little toy?” Spencer husked into your ear as his hips snapped into you from behind as he had you on your hands and knees on the bed while he supported you with an arm around your middle and his hand on your hip. He had found sexual encounters with you to be rather liberating. You trusted him completely and he cared about you a lot. He’d never hurt you. But this dynamic really allowed him to exercise a degree of control over and with another person that he didn’t really have anywhere else in his life. The degree of control he had over his mother was not voluntary although he took that just as seriously as he took this.
“Y-yes.” You whimpered.
“Say my name, sweetheart. I wanna hear you say it.” The hand on your hip snaked around to rub at your already sensitive clit.
“S-Spencer.” You say breathily.
He gives your clit a little slap.
“Louder, hon. Let me get my first noise complaint from old Mrs. Davis across the hall. She’s always going on about how respectful and quiet I am. Just like Derek goes on about how much of a kid I still am. I’m sick of it. Aren’t I good enough, darling? Can’t I make you scream and cum for me?”
He rubs your clit faster as he snaps his hips faster.
“I dunno…I’m not-”
“A screamer. I know, angel. But maybe we can change that, huh? I’ve made you cum before. I’ll do it again. I’ll do it better. I’ll make you feel so good.” Despite him being slightly dominant right now, he was almost pleading with you to meet him half way.
“I-I’ll try.”
“I know you will, sweetie, I know you will. You’re so good for me.” He buries his face in your neck to press kisses to it, hoping to add to the sensations you were feeling.
He picks up the pace of his hips and his fingers, rubbing your clit in circles.
“I wanna try something, honey. Will you let me try something?” He murmurs against your ear, having kissed his way up to it..
“Y-yeah…what do you wanna try?”
“Can I deny you your orgasm? Can you be my good girl and cum when I tell you to? Not before? Maybe that’ll make it feel better. I know it’s different for every woman but I’ve read that it can make it feel better.” He says, again seeming a bit desperate now, willing to do anything to enhance this experience for himself and for his partner.
“I…I can try. You can try to overstimulate me if you’d like.” You offered, also trying to pitch ideas that could help the experience.
“One thing at a time, love. One thing at a time.”
“Ok…One thing…orgasm denial.”
“One thing…orgasm denial.” He agrees. “If that doesn’t work…then we can try overstimulation.”
“Ok…that sounds good.”
“Yeah? Good.”
Once you two were in agreement, effort was put back into achieving pleasure. Spencer continued to snap his hips against yours (for a skinny guy who didn’t work out, he sure had a good amount of stamina). His fingers continued to work at your clit. Your warm and soft walls suck his cock in like it’s afraid to let it leave the sanctuary.
“Remember, love, you’re not allowed to cum until I say you can. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” He rasps in your ear.
“Y-yeah…I can do that. I can try.”
“Good girl. Tell me when you’re close so I can delay it just a bit. It won’t be long, I promise.”
With the way his cock is hitting just the right spot inside you, the way his fingers are working your clit, and the way he’s nibbling your neck lightly all combine to help you get close to the edge.
“Spence…I-I’m close, baby.” You pant lightly.
“Hmm…yeah? Don’t cum yet, ok?” He murmurs in your ear.
“Ok…I won’t. I won’t until you tell me to.”
“That’s my good girl. It won’t be too torturous, I promise.” He increases the pace of his fingers on your clit and his thrusts are deep and calculated but not feral. They are a nice even pace that’s not too overwhelmingly fast.
Your whines and whimpers increase as your legs shake. “S-Spencer…I…I can’t…”
“You can. You will, love. You can do it. I believe in you. Just a little longer, ok? Not too much longer.” He lovingly rubs his nose against your neck as he picks up his thrust pace just a bit, going just as deep as he continues to rub your clit at an increased pace.
“Spence…please.” Your voice raises in pitch.
“Few more seconds, hon. Just a few more seconds.”
You could almost cry with how much pleasure you’re feeling.
“Sp-“ you go to say again, your voice slightly increasing in volume.
“Now.” He commands.
Your body obeys him without you having to do anything. It just…lets go.
“Oh my god, Spencer, fuck!” You shout, a lot louder than intended. You cling to him as you shake.
“That’s what I’m doing, sweetness.” You can’t see his smirk but you can feel it against your neck as he continues to work you through your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before he’s emptying his load into the condom. He pants against your neck as he peppers it with kisses.
“Do you know…what you…just did for me, darling?” He slowly pulls out of you.
“Screamed louder than I should’ve?” You chuckle softly.
“Besides that.”
“Besides that?”
“Mhm…besides that.”
“N-no…what?”
“Look at the condom, hon.”
“‘M too…tired.”
He chuckles. “It’s soaked, love. I think you squirted over it a bit.”
“Wha-? Really?”
“Mhm. You did such a great job for me, love.”
-
“Kid…hey, Reid!” Derek waves in front of Spencer’s face.
“You still with us? You looked a little spaced out.” JJ states, chuckling slightly.
“I’m fine. I just zoned out after Morgan related his fifth conquest in a week to us.”
“Do you have something you’d like to talk about, then?” Derek scoffs.
“No.” Spencer says simply, shaking his head.
“You will one day, kid. You will one day.”
“‘M not a kid.” Spencer mutters. You and he share a quick glance and a small smirk.
“Oh? You’re not? You got any spicy stories to tell?”
“Maybe one day…when I think you can handle it.”
“Ooh…ok, ok.”
232 notes · View notes
cosmicstarlatte · 1 year
Text
Reality Show (Obey Me!)
━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━
Diavolo convinces Lucifer to have him & his brothers do a new demon reality show that revolves around their everyday lives.
»Characters: Demon Bros // ->[Click here for Part 2: Dateables]
»Tags: LUCIFER CAUGHT IN 4K, Shitpost/Humor, Mentions of reader/MC, Husbando Beel Supremacy, Bulleted Style
»Notes: CM = Crew Member ;; Sorry I was gonna upload this sooner but wanted to draw art for it. xD
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Lucifer:
"Okay that's enough, go somewhere else."
CM: "We can't, you agreed to this under contract"
sighs
Mildly regretted his loyalty to Diavolo, otherwise he would've never done this
His camera crew was always on edge with him
The show stressed him more than usual
Perhaps there were a few embarrassing moments he would prefer not to talk about
Like pushing a door that said pull, forgetting the word spoon and calling it a tiny bowl on a stick
[Camera peeks through Lucifer's study, recording a smiling Lucifer texting on his phone]
CM: "Who were you texting Lucifer? Was it ___? There's been rumors..."
"I was checking the weather."
CM: "You take selfies for the weather?"
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Mammon:
"Hey wait stop recordin' this! Not that what we are doin' is illegal!"
His camera crew had a rough time with him
But it made for good television!
He talked shit about Lucifer the most
"Yeah a lotta people dunno this, but Lucifer cries to me all the time! What can I say, I'm a reliable guy!"[Crew zooms in on an unamused Lucifer in the background]
[Cut to Mammon hanging from the ceiling]
"Can someone get me down from here!? HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS GOIN'!?"
A lot of the crew's clips had shaky movement from running due to multiple mammon situations
They got a great swoon-worthy shot of Mammon gazing lovingly at you
CM: "Maybe you should confess?"
"I'm confessin' to nothin'! Talk to my lawyer!"
CM: "That's not what we- Nevermind."
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Levi:
"I already stream online so this isn't any different."
lol
Levi didn't realize they'd be watching his every move
How was he suppose to worship his shrine of Ruri and you in front of them!?
His camera crew couldn't stop cringing around the otaku
it was uncomfortable for everyone
[Camera films secret sweet moment of him awkwardly practicing asking if you want to hang out]
He asked for it to be deleted, it was denied
However his ratings shot up after that clip and the next one:
CM: "Do you have a crush on ___?"
"W-what!? N-no!!! (Incoherent Levi noises and he trips)"
That clip became a viral meme for weeks
I'm talking remixes and everything
In the end his camera crew actually did have a lot of fun with him and they game online together now
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Satan:
"Watch your step. Oh, don't touch that!"
His camera crew had a difficult time with him
He managed to avoid them frequently so he wasn't overly present in the show, much to the annoyance of Lucifer and the others
If they did catch him, all the clips looked the same, all he did was read
They did manage to catch him feeding some stray devildom kitties
[Camera zooms in on him in his room with a collared cat on his lap]
CM: "I thought you couldn't have pets?"
"It's not mine. Clearly, I can't control what comes in my room as of late."
CM:  "It has a collar?"
"Next question."
CM: "What can you tell us about the Anti-Lucifer League?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Next question."
CM: "Okay... viewers want to know what's up with you and ___?"
[Satan opens a book and gets sucked in]
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Asmo:
"It's like, Devilgram Live, but longer!"
Most unbothered out of everyone
He did get annoyed when they tried to catch him before he could start his morning beauty routine
He was scary, they caught it on camera...it was the only time the crew deleted a clip on a brothers request
Overall his crew had an easy time, it was standard to what they normally do, Asmo himself was fun
He was a natural, of course everyone loved him, who wouldn't?
Was the one to start drama for the sake of tv
Nothing too crazy just messed with Luci's schedule, got Mammon arrested, hid Levi's Ruri body pillow, little things really!
[Camera catches Asmo cuddling next to you]
CM: "You seem very fond of them!"
"I am! Oh maybe we can do like a one year WEDDING special later on!?"
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Beel:
"Just don't get in my way I guess."
He wasn't really on board with the idea but not much he could do
His crew had an average time with him, he was easy and chill to film
They caught him doing a lot of activities like, cooking/baking, sports, gaming, it was surprising to viewers
His work out clips got a lot of views too, he was a busy demon
They filmed him helping around the house, even cleaning your room and leaving you little gift snacks
CM: "Wow, snacks? You must really like ___!"
"Yeah. I love them. I want to give them the world."He confidently admitted, smiling brightly
Had high ratings in the polls, the show gave everyone a new perspective of him who wasn't just a gluttonous beast
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Belphie:
CM: "Is he breathing?"
"Zzz..."
The crew had an easy but boring time with him
There's only so many hours of a sleeping Belphie you can record
The were some soft serene moments with him,Beel and you, gazing at the stars
[Camera catches him sleeping, smiling and mumbling something about you]
CM (poking): "Belphie wanna share what you were dreaming about? We heard you call their name. "
"Only if the network agrees to air it unfiltered. It will be very descriptive."
CM:
CM: "That's a wrap guys."
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⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream
1K notes · View notes
louloulemons-posts · 1 year
Text
Newts and Water Hyacinths
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
Summary : Deciding to spend his day with his favourite girl, Eddie goes to her home, but where is she?
Word Count : 1.2K
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Warnings : Pure fluff, use of Y/N, potential incorrect information about plants, pet names, reader is basically the child of Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, kisses, Eddie is whipped lol.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Eddie coming over wasn’t a new thing at all, you were friends for a year or so before dating so him being at your home was a common occurrence.
He knocked on the front door before pushing it open and letting himself in. “Honey I’m home,” he called out, chuckling lightly. No response. “Baby? Where are you?”
Wondering through the lounge and the kitchen he couldn’t find the girl he adored so much. Jogging up the stairs, fingers tapping on the bedroom door before he entered.
Cosy and neat-ish, well your neat. Plants all over the room in various sizes and colours, books stacked upon books, notebooks and journals overflowing with drawings and facts about animals and plants, shells and pretty rocks sat on shelves. Not here either.
Eddie tried not to panic but couldn’t really help it, there was only one other place you’d be. He pushed back the nets on your window slightly and sighed with relief.
The small stream sparkling in the days sunlight. Stood in patchwork dungarees, and wellie boots, a smile noticeable from miles away, was you, Eddies favourite person.
Many people couldn’t believe that you and Eddie were dating. His mean and satanic appearance making it seem impossible for him to be with someone so kind and loveable.
But you were one of the few people who saw through Eddies outer layer, saw him for the sweet and gentle boy he really was.
Smiling to himself Eddie headed back down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door. Wandering down to the beautiful stream. “Hey Sweetheart!”
Looking up from your crouched position you smiled at the curly haired metal head. “You found me.”
“I’ll always find you. Figured if you weren’t in the house, you’d be here. Found anything.”
Nodding and brushing a stray hair away from your face you picked up a water filled jar that also held a small newt. “Aren’t they cute Eds?” you asked, standing up to show him.
“It’s a red spotted newt, they’re not normally from places like this, so I might take them inside. Get dad to take a look, make sure they’re safe,” as you explained, he watched your brows furrow in slight concern for the creature.
“That’s a real sweet thought, I think it’s a great idea. We might have to get them somewhere a little bigger to stay though,” he suggested, to which you nodded.
Picking up one of your journals from the slightly damp grass, you passed the jar to Eddie. Climbing from the steam a ramble began, “I drew a couple of water hyacinths too, which isn’t great, I’ll have to tell mom. They can be really invasive, they’re actually a hazard for boats and grow really quickly!”
“Is that right?” Eddie said, sliding his hand into your free one, holding the jar with their newt buddy in the other. “Mhm it’s real pretty Ed’s but so dangerous!”
“Like you?”
“Me?!” your eyes widening as you looked at the boy.
“Yeah baby, just like you. So pretty, but you’re almost like a siren!”
“How?”
“Everyone just loves you. All wanna be your friends, or more. You have to let them all down easy cause you’ve got your bunch already.”
Nodding in agreement, “‘M not dangerous though Eds.”
“With eyes as pretty as those baby, you could make anyone do anything you wish. Trust me I know.”
“You know Ovid said that Sirens were friends of the Goddess Persephone, they were turned into monsters when Hades abducted her.”
“How do you keep all that knowledge in that head?”
“Dunno. It’s nothing useful though,” you shrugged. Motioning to the bench near the back door Eddie placed the jar down, “Sit.”
You complied. “Its interesting though, and some people will think it’s useful, depends who you talk too.” He squatted down, gently taking you boot covered foot in hand.
“Hm, maybe.”
“Definitely, do you know how much I hear Henderson praising you and saying how cool you are for knowing all this stuff. Even Sinclair Junior thinks it’s awesome and nothing impresses her,” he laughed, pulling the red boot off and placing it next to the bench to dry.
Wiggling your toes, Eddie smiled at your multicoloured thick socks. “Erica’s a sweetheart.”
“So are you, saving that newt, saving the steam from those flowers, saving me from being a lonely old grump.”
That did make you laugh, as he pulled off the other boot you spoke, “You’d never end up alone, so many people love you. Including me.”
“Yeah? You love me?” he grinned, it wasn’t a phrase you’d really said to him before.
“Yeah Eds, I love you a lot. Favourite person and all. Only person who I share everything with.”
“I love you too, and thank you for that, love your rambles. Love everything about you sweet girl.”
Standing up his full height he took her hands, “Careful, climb up on the bench, don’t want you dirtying your socks.” Slowly standing up, keeping your hands in Eddies, now taller than him.
Leaning down you softly pressed your lips to his plush ones, arms wrapping round his neck and legs around his waist. Pulling away you spoke, “Don’t drop me.”
“Never,” he stated, pecking your lips again.
“I’ll come back for you in a sec buddy,” he said to the orange amphibian in the glass jar. Placing you down on the counter, Eddie could only beam at you, pushing falling strands of hair behind your ears he kissed you once more.
It was always something that made your heart feel like it’d come out of your chest. Fingers running through the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly so he’d know not to stop.
If you didn’t have to breathe, you’d never let him stop, never ever. Would kiss him for the rest of time. Breaking away with a chuckle, Eddie rubbed his thumb on your rosy cheeks, kissing there too.
“You go and find a bigger home for our friend and I’ll go fetch ‘em and your journal, okay?” Words weren’t working for you at the minute, mind still racing from the kiss, so nodding would have to do.
Jumping down from the counter gently, you rummaged though the cupboards for a suitable waiting space. Perfect an old fish bowl, “Hey Eds we’ll have to make a trip back down to the stream,” you called out.
“Why’s that?” head popping round the door, and placing the jar and book on the side, Eddie wandered over. “Need the water, don’t want the little guy to get sick. Too much change can’t be good.”
“I’ll go, you stay put,” kissing your cheek once more, he grabbed the fish bowl and wandered away. Watching him walk down the garden, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were.
Having someone so kind, so considerate, a great friend, and even better boyfriend, just someone who you never had to pretend with. You could just be Y/N and he could just be Eddie. And that was perfect for you.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you for reading, please leave any requests 🤍
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fandomwritingbit · 7 months
Note
So this is something I've been formulating during the past two days. This isn't so much a request, just my rambling, but if it gives you some inspo then go right ahead :)
-
Steve/William is f!reader's career counselor. The first time they meet face-to-face, the way she looks and acts piques his interest. He's already planning on offering her the security gig, but purposefully doesn't propose it until a few days later just to toy with her, plus so he can have a reason to get her into his office again ASAP.
She accepts the job because even though the pay and hours aren't ideal, she still needs some money until she can find something long-term. Of course the whole "living animatronics" thing creeps her out, but sometime before she started, William made a point to tell the animatronics "Scare her, but don't kill her." After the first couple of shifts, she gets into a rhythm to tolerate them at least a little. Still a tad creepy, though not as much as that weird golden bunny looking thing in a backroom that she stumbled across one night...
Unbeknownst to her, William has developed an obsession with her. He takes advantage of the fact that he has her phone number to call her sometimes under the guise of wanting to know how the job is going and her home address so he can drive over to her place and watch her from a distance even if only for a few minutes. And yes, he's fantasized about her.
One day, he catches one of her guy friends dropping off groceries he got for her (because with the hours she's working and her now messed-up sleep schedule, who has time to buy food? lol) and this... pisses him off, so to speak. Like gripping the steering wheel levels of pissed off. Fueled by jealousy and possessiveness, next time she's in his office, he starts playing up more of his "dangerous but alluring" demeanour while still maintaining his professionalism to the best of his abilities so as to not set off any alarm bells. He even gambles ruining his entire scheme by covertly smelling her hair while she kneels down to pick something up.
He could've pounced on her right then and there. But no. He wants to draw this out a little while longer.
But when she makes an off-hand comment about looking for additional work during one of their phone calls, his patience immediately runs out. Bunny wants to leave? Like hell she will!
During her next shift, she hears commotion in one of the main areas. Believing it to be an intruder (at this point, she knows the animatronics well enough to not consider them as suspects) and goes to confront whoever it is. Lo and behold, it's that goddamn creepy bunny looking thing. Except it's moving. And laughing creepily at her. Oh shit.
The knife its brandishing in its hand certainly isn't helping matters.
After a brief scuffle, she runs to the storage area to get something better to fight off the lunatic rabbit with, but is suddenly grabbed and held by the neck and slammed against the wall. Its too strong for her to fight off and she's left panicking but still showing signs of defiance. This only seems to egg the rabbit on more as it gets uncomfortably close to her, making more creepy comments in that demonic voice, and even licks her at one point.
Soon enough, the rabbit's head is removed and she sees her career counselor underneath. Now she's even more terrified, and the sinister yet sensual actions escalate. Using the knife to force her face to look back at him, finally getting in close enough to properly smell her hair, slamming her against the wall again just to hear her groan in pain, the list goes on.
"I've waited long enough to get you like this," he says. "We're gonna be here for a long time."
-
Whatever happens after this is up to your imagination. Does she escape? Does he eventually kill her or keep her alive for his enjoyment? I dunno. Not sure how to end this. XDDD
Terrifying yet intriguing additional concept: if after he ""has fun"" with her (and who knows how long his idea of a "long time" is) and ends up killing her in the pizzeria, he hopes her ghost/spirit remains like the kids' did so that she can be stuck there as something of a maternal figure to the animatronics. If he can manipulate the kids to forget that he's the one who killed them, who's to say he can't do the same to her?
Okay... so you are a genius.
The whole idea of him withholding the job offer until the last second is absolutely the kind of manipulative thing he would do just so reader feels indebted to him and like he did her a favour. He’s such a hypocrite because when she thanks him, all  he thinks is that she’s clingy and dependent even though he’s the one calling her at least once a week to ‘check in’ and driving to her house just to catch a glimpse of her through the windows. 
As for the animatronics, telling them to scare her is just more manipulation, maybe just so he can give her tips or come to the rescue like some white knight.
He makes sure she’s still coming to appointments under the guise of looking out for her but it’s really all for him. He’s always on the verge of blowing the career counsellor cover because he leaves his hand on her back for too long, watches her lips move as she talks too much, leans in to smell her hair too often. 
And if he feels like there’s a chance he’s going to lose her? Like you said with seeing a guy friend at her house or her looking at other job options. It’s the straw for the camel, honestly. I just love the set up you have of her going to investigate a noise she’s never heard before and being accosted. Of course she fights the rabbit, smashing whatever objects she can grab into its face, pushing as hard as she can, but it only ever deters him for a second, she’s just not strong enough. 
He just revels in removing the head and seeing her eyes blow with realisation that it’s him. And you’re right, the knowledge that it's not some monster pawing at her but a bloke she’s known for weeks is much more terrifying. It’s like all her previous interactions with him replay in her mind now tinted with the creepy realisation that he was fantasising about this the whole time. He’d definitely take her right there, using that knife as motivation to make her a good girl for him. Cooing some abnormally sweet words that don’t match the dingy surroundings or the blade against her skin, “Just like that sweet girl.” Kind of things as his hand in her hair guides her to suck him. 
“You can take it, come on.” As he pushes inside her. I think he’d be ‘nice’ to her in this situation because he knows how scared she is and in a twisted way he wants her to enjoy it, if you get what I mean. 
Now after he’s devoured you, I just can’t decide if he’d kill her or not. Part of me thinks that if she begged for him to let her live he’d kill her, and if she said nothing he’d keep her around. If he let her live she’d be his from now on. Literally no escape, he knows where she lives where she works. He’d go as far as to keep track of any new jobs she applied for and bad mouth her to them, just to keep her where he wants her. 
As for the supernatural part of this, with the spirits, I think if he killed her he’d be banking on her being stuck there. Is that not the most depraved victory? He’s then your last ‘lover’ and your first killer in the same night. You would forever be his, trapped there for him to play with. Also, like if he ever was caught for his crimes her name would always be next to his. 
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Anyways sorry for not doing much more with this but to be fair there wasn’t much for me to add! It was already well thought and written. Thanks so much for this xx
173 notes · View notes
yan-lorkai · 3 months
Note
Hi!
Dunno if you know or watched about hazbin hotel but can I ask a Alastor!reader with whoever you want to write?
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I already binge watched hazbin twice lol, so yeah I know Alastor my beloved little guy. I'm writing this for my beautiful ladies and Undertaker btw!
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Always smiling, dressed in red and carrying a microphone. You are a peculiar figure in the eyes of many. Wherever you go you leave people with mixed feelings, some afraid, others fascinated, but everyone knows that you are someone not to be messed with. Or else there will be consequences. Your smile may be sweet at first sight but hide a part of sharp teeths.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Integra thinks she should be used to death and blood but she has quite a soft spot hidden deep within her. If you are killing vampires and ghouls she doesn't mind much but killing humans, or worse, Hellsing agents, makes her sad. So very sad. Her humans dying because they didn't know any better and had provoked your ire, do please spare them. Or she'll have to send Alucard to teach you a lesson and even she don't know who could win between you two.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Seras kind of match your energy. She was a police officer once, arresting and even killing when necessary. Even if she had seen her fair share of bodies, of guts spilled from inside out, of blood, she isn't disgusted by it anymore. She is more concerned that you cannibalize your victims sometimes. She knows some serial killers like to claim trophies but you just eat them. She can't really say anything because she drinks blood to live and many would find it just as disgusting.
That said, she loves your gentle persona. When you two are out and about, people seem like to admire you two. At the surface level you're both gentle and calm, and it's cute how you interact.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Thirteen find you so funny. She likes teasing you till your breaking point, where your voice is all distorted and your form begins to waver. She can't help, she like this side of you. And she loves even more to watch you kill, as a reaper is her job collecting souls so she isn't bothered by the blood or the smell of flesh that you eat. Kill for your heart's content, she's just going to stay here to show her support for you. And later she can take you to eat jambalaya.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Undertaker is another one that find you and your mannerisms funny. He was always round you when you were alive and killing people, watching you, wanting to see what you were going to do next. You were funny as hell too. And when you were killed he was the one who collected your soul, in his eyes your soul was so interesting, so precious, but was time to go.
When word got around about a demon killing other demons then he wanted to meet the infamous Radio demon and he is delighted to know you still up to cause chaos around. This time he is going to stay around and watch you closely, you make him laugh very much, after all. And likes you too. You want power, you trap people into deals, you scheme and it's so entertaining watching everything happening, Undertaker even likes to share his thoughts on your plan just to add a little more perspective.
78 notes · View notes
sad-scarred-sassy · 4 months
Note
Genuine question but if elain and azriel weren’t going to have some romantic relationship, why did SJM even write that first half of the bonus chapter? Elucien are already mates, she could’ve written a scene with them or not mentioned azriel and elain at all.
I’m not saying that gwynriel half of the bonus chapter was meaningless, they DID have good banter and the language used was eyebrow-raising at the very least, like something is def hinted there but I’m just confused about it. Like if she’s going in gwynriel direction, she could’ve JUST written the second half of the scene. We didn’t even KNOW elain and azriel were interacting before. Like why write a scene with Az + elain and then wreck them in the same chapter?
It’s so weird?? It could’ve easily been a set up for elucien and gwynriel but now it looks more like she was setting up for a love triangle between Az Gwyn and Elain.
I don’t know what to make of this 🤷🏻‍♀️ it just felt unnecessary lol bc if the next book IS azriel, I really don’t think she is going to have him move on from Mor to Elain, then Elain to Gwyn over the course of one chapter that didn’t even make it in the book?
It makes me so annoyed to think about that stupid BC. She should’ve never released it bc whether it’s gwynriel or elriel, that bonus chapter doesn’t make sense.
Like yeah yeah, we see how toxic elriel could’ve been and we see how they would never work - but like… tbh I didn’t think anything was happening between elain and azriel UNTIL the bonus chapter. I literally read that and was like HUH when did they—??? And then he was like “this was a mistake” and they went their separate ways and he ended the chapter with Gwyn. If SJM is going for Gwynriel endgame, it would’ve been so much better if she just didn’t even include the first part of the bonus chapter?? And vice versa.
If she hadn’t written the first part, I wouldn’t think elriel was a thing. If she hadn’t written the second part I wouldn’t think gwynriel was a thing.
I don’t think she did it just for drama either so I literally dunno what purpose it serves.
Hey!! That’s a great question, let me dive into it…
I think the bonus chapter has three parts, one with Elain, one with Rhys, one with Gwyn, not only to cement Gwynriel but also to give an end to Elriel. This also while deep diving into Azriel’s thoughts and motivations.
I for one, never really considered Elriel as strongly as their shippers do, but I could tell there was something going on there, in Acowar we got some winks at Elain being comfortable with Azriel (even if kind of in a childish, innocent way) and in Acofas we got the beginning of them acting awkward with eachother, Elain showing Azriel her plans etc, I remember thinking it was at best cute and Elain obviously had a crush on Az (but he was still pretty much still hung up with Mor and she was still mourning her fiance). When I read the BC I was so shocked and uncomfortable with Azriel’s purely sexual thoughts about Elain, it was deliberate, to show the reader Azriel is probably confusing lust with romantic feelings. That’s I think why you say the BC was the first time you saw them as a couple, but this shock to me was more in the way Azriel himself actually viewed Elain, until then we all at least agreed it was in a more tender way, and this was absolutely crushed with his pov (and we actually see this tenderness in the way he thinks about Gwyn instead).
Now to your main question: Why add Elain in his chapter? And to that we first need to answer why SJM wrote Elriel at all.
As an Elucien I can’t come here and say Elriel never existed because it did, but the reason SJM wrote it is not to lead them as endgame, but to add layers and tension to these characters. Firstly, Elriel for me was there to add some will-they-won’t-they to Elucien’s mating bond. Look, with no other couple did we have a mating bond snapped and proclaimed even before the two characters even spoke to each-other. This the first time we have this scenario, and things need to go one way for the tension to be there.
If Elain was just mourning Graysen (which relationship was ended in the same book Elucien gained traction) then it would have been too given that they would inevitably find their way to eachother. So she adds Azriel to the mix, who at that point had only ever been interested in Mor for 500 years, with absolutely zero possibility of her ever mirroring his interest. It just makes sense for his character to also find that fixation on Elain, another unattainable female. This was another way Azriel continued his self sabotage behavior, and so we had the first real stepping stone into what his character arc will be when he gets his book.
But we can agree Elriel started (to act as a red herring for Elucien, add character tension, give Az an arc), gained traction in Acofas, and when Sarah introduced us to Gwyn and had the realization she was perfect for Azriel, she had to close the Elriel thread. So here comes the BC.
As readers we needed to see with our own eyes why exactly these two characters weren’t good together, just like she did this with Tamlin in a more dramatic way before Feyre could see Rhys in a romantic way, Sarah gave us all the clues in the way Azriel thought about Elain hyper sexually, how he called their encounter a mistake, how he focused too much in her mating bond, even in ACOSF we got winks of him limiting Elain when she clearly wanted to help, because she should not be exposed to darkness. Then comes Rhys, asking Azriel the questions we as readers were asking him: what about Mor? No answer. Do you think you deserve Elain? Diverting the answer to say Lucien doesn’t (showing us his possible insecurity towards him). And then we have the Gwyn part, in which we see Azriel’s character actually shine, even if he still can’t see this is actually the way, not the doomed self sabotage relationship he was entertaining with Elain.
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The thing is it IS a set up for Elucien and Gwynriel:
Elucien: Lucien was there in the same house when the almost kiss happened, this is a calculated thing, the chapter could have happened a day after and it would have worked perfectly, but no, Lucien was there too. Something tells me Lucien knows what transpired, he probably could feel it, hear it, smell it or at least have some perception of it. And this just adds more angst to what Elain and him are going to go through.
Gwynriel: the obvious banter, exact opposite of Azriel’s and Elain’s interaction (for the better), and the hints of their potential mating bond.
To sum it up, Elriel was a thing before the bonus chapter, thats for sure, but Sarah needed to end it before she could continue, however small and insignificant their relationship actually was. And I don’t agree that this set up a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn, when Azriel said “this was a mistake” Sarah ended any possibility of that, Elain gave him back the necklace she was at first eager to receive, Lucien was there and probably knows something happened, Azriel thought he had been right to stay away, and it ended with him thinking about Gwyn’s glowing eyes and smiling about her.
I hope this answers your question, I actually think the bonus chapter was masterfully written to tell us everything we need to know about what was actually happening inside Azriels head, and give us a hint of his future and the future of the other characters.
If she hadn’t written the first part, then we could’ve never gotten those rich pieces of information into Azriel’s trauma, red flags, jealousy and thought process that will play a part in his own book (because they’re far from resolved). By having both we could see how Elain brings up the worse in him, while Gwyn calms the restlessness inside of him instantly.
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crepes-suzette-373 · 7 months
Text
I was told the little changes/additions put in the anime made the VS siblings' scenes when they come in to help Sanji escape so much better, so I went to look at it (because I don't normally watch the anime).
Oh yes, yes it did.
The light streaks they make seriously just make me think of Powerpuff Girls. Oh good Lord, self, no, stop getting dumb ideas.
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I also find it so funny that they added the above additional bit where they had to Black Bug a bomb out of the sky, because then when Ichiji kabooms Oven with Sparking Valkyrie, he had to come flying back down to do it like a classic superhero saving civilian scene.
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In the manga since he was right behind Sanji, he just turned around and didn't have to do any dramatic swoops.
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He doesn't make additional comments, but I always maintain that Ichiji's "silent stares" speaks more than words, pffft.
Yonji's rescue part is exactly as-is in manga, so they just had him make sarcastic comments at the end.
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I dunno, Toei, it doesn't suit him to be saying this LOL. Like, from the manga, I just don't get the feel like Yonji would go out of his way to say tsundere things like this if Ichiji or Niji doesn't start first.
Anyway. They also had that split second where you can see Niji flying in and grab Sanji mid-air right before the bomb explodes.
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Like, they could've just shown a big explosion and then show Niji flying while carrying Sanji unscathed in the next frame, but they actually put that bit in where he goes NyOooOM:
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I don't know why this just seems so funny to me.
Maybe because in the manga because of the panelling, it looked more like Niji managed to pull Sanji out of there before the bomb hits. Here, the way it's timed and animated made it look like the bomb actually had hit, it just hit Niji on his Germa cloak and didn't do anything anyway.
Niji's part needs to be heard, because it's in the tone of how he talks:
Because it already looks and sounds like a typical sibling bickering. You know.
"Didn't ask you to help". "We'll help even if you don't ask. Dumbass".
(come on, you can just tell that struck out part is the unsaid part XD)
And this:
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It looks like a fond(er) farewell (compared to the manga anyway, where this last bit doesn't happen).
Like, with Reiju it's not really a big difference, because she cares and it was never a question. It's the boys that's funny, because they're all dumb. Every single last one of them.
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aetherdoesthings · 3 months
Note
Hi OP! Could we get a Xiao x GN Reader where reader is really panicking because of a bad decision that will come back to haunt them? Something fluffy maybe? :3 auhdjsjssj
I hope you have a wonderful week!
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Hi! this is my first time writing for genshin lol
forethoughts: no, i'm not dead. i'm very much alive, just enjoying my time off the screen. like i said, first time writing genshin, so don't be too mean 🙏🏻🙏🏻. remember folks, hydrate or die-drate.
notes: gn!reader, fluff, xiao being a therapist
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“So… what’s wrong?” 
You were pacing back and forth, your shoes crunching the same patch of grass over and over. Your heart felt like jumping off a cliff, your breathing erratic, head above the clouds. All the while, your partner was leaning against an oak tree that shielded the two of you from the sun, and from other people. Xiao remained silent, unsure how to approach you. It wasn’t your first time approaching Xiao with a war in your head; he was already accustomed to seeing you like this, but regardless he was still cautious of how to approach you.
“I did something bad. Really really really bad.” You managed to regurgitate out those words after a while.
“Okay. And?”
“I… I…” You made a frustrated sound, throwing your hands up in the air, staring at Xiao, who still remained still and silent. 
“Is it something that requires my help?” Xiao asked, his voice quiet but firm.
“Maybe, no, yes? I don’t know!” You exasperated.
“What happened, Y/N?”
You let out a sigh, falling backwards, letting the grass envelope your body whole, hopefully consuming you before your problem would. “I… I think Dr. Baizhu’s mad at me.”
“Why would Baizhu be mad at you?” Xiao tilted his head.
“Okay, okay. It was a normal day. I was doing my stuff, but then Director Hu suddenly appear and asked for my help for something. She said there was this spirit that should be laid to rest in order to restore the natural cycle of life and death or whatnot, I dunno, I wasn’t paying attention. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to help, since Director Hu was asking me to help her. S-So I did. I went to Bubu Pharmacy, found the spirit, who’s apparently called Qiqi, and then gave her to Director Hu. But then Dr. Baizhu showed up out of nowhere, and told me that Director Hu was trying to kidnap Qiqi and said I was an accomplice and was doing something extremely bad. So I ran, and went here, and called on your name.”
Xiao’s deafening silence was making your heart race and breath quicken. Xiao always remained silent, only speaking when necessary and if you asked him to. His state of tranquility and peace was something that you loved and hated equally.
“I’m aware of Director Hu’s intention to give Qiqi a proper burial in order to restore the natural order of life and death. I was not aware Director Hu was familiar with you or knew you, but I digress.” Xiao walked towards you, kneeling down in front of your face. “Why are you so concerned with Baizhu being mad at you?”
“I don’t know! M-Maybe I can’t get anymore of my medicine from Bubu Pharmacy because he refuses to serve me, and then I’ll get sick and die-”
“That is not a possibility. I won’t let it be one.” Xiao said sternly.
Your heart skipped a beat at his tone. “I just don’t want to have people mad at me for something I didn’t know I was doing. Director Hu was very vague when she approached me, and maybe I should’ve asked more questions. I don’t know, okay?! I feel bad! I shouldn’t have listened to Director Hu, maybe none of this would’ve happened.”
“Y/N, relax.” Xiao cupped your cheek with one hand, making you look at him. “It’s not your fault Qiqi almost got taken by Director Hu again. Even if you weren’t a factor, Director Hu will still try and take Qiqi away. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You were misinformed and misled by Director Hu into doing something you had no idea what the repercussions would be. Stop beating yourself up, alright? Baizhu will always find a reason to be mad at everyone, in his pursuit for immortality. You do not need someone like him in your life taking up your energy and space. You’re going to be fine. Nothing’s going to come back and haunt you.”
You looked at your partner in the eyes, the corners of your mouth shooting up to your eyes. Xiao, the ever quiet adeptus who spent his time alone, never striked you as a man that was good with words. How he proved you wrong so many times in the course of your relationship. You leaned into Xiao’s touch, finding the energy to sit up, leaning your body against your boyfriend. Your fingers intertwined with each other, back leaning against the tree.
“Besides, I won’t let Baizhu lay a single finger on you. Ever. You’re safe, my love. So stop worrying and fussing about trivial matters. Let’s enjoy the sun while it’s still out, hm?”
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ultimateyapper · 21 days
Text
anyway, here's wonderwall. | chapter one
[ chapter 2 ]
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were you truly mentally prepared for what would unfold in hotarubi? it couldn't be any worse than having a gun to your head right? despite the late hour, it's nearly impossible to get what taiga said out of your mind.
there's a mole.
but why would there be a mole at darkwick? who would it be? someone you know? a friend? how does taiga even know this?
there's officially too much on your mind to get any sleep.
yawning, you turn over to pull your phone off the charger. it was cute with an adapter shaped like a cat paw. the smile kaito wore as he handed it to you was full of pride. he said he got it "just because". it was clearly a lie after luca suggested it was consolation for skipping out on training but it's funny remembering how red he got afterwards. it was a sweet gesture but how does he expect to pay off his debt if he keeps buying things "just because".
the screen lights up and after blinking away tears from the initial brightness you read the time. ten minutes after midnight. maybe there's something interesting on wickchat? there wasn't a lot of time to check during the last mission.
eventually you make it to your messages. only a select few people are active due to the late hour and kaito is one of them. you can see him typing in your group chat. the one he made after the mission in frostheim. you temporarily left the chat while talking with taiga. although, in all honesty, trying not to get killed by taiga would fit better. you had texted him more than 10 minutes before you came to his room. yet still a gun was pointed to your head for the third (maybe fourth, you were losing track) time that week.
with complete and utter seriousness he claimed he "didn't know any honor student".
how many times did he expect you to introduce yourself exactly? you considered being a smartass and just saying a fake name. instead you decided to move, slowly so you didn't set him off, and show the texts.
suddenly the blonde started spamming the group chat in all caps, lighting up your phone with vibration after vibration. something about getting his point across to that dumbass, who you're assuming is probably luca. in hindsight, you could've just turned notifs off but when taiga was clearly starting to get pissed off you went with the quickest option. upsetting the guy with a machine gun for a special artifact isn't exactly at the top of your to-do list.
( #1 peekaboo fan )
im surprised to see luca up this late
the conversation comes to an abrupt halt. three dots circle at the bottom of your screen followed by a cat emote waving hi.
( kaito ✮ )
hiii : D
i added you back earlier btw i dunno why you left but it was probably an accident right??
wait sorry did i wake u up
mb 💔💔
( Lucas Errant )
I suppose it is a bit strange, yes? My conversation with Kaito must have made me lose track of time haha
( #1 peekaboo fan )
yeah you're usually knocked out lol and dw kaito i was already awake : )
( kaito ✮ )
ohh ok lol
i can't sleep either
( Lucas Errant )
You can't? I thought you said you were going to sleep because I was boring you.
( #1 peekaboo fan )
lmao
( kaito ✮ )
bro you were talking about fun facts and shi
ofc i was nodding off
( Lucas Errant )
My apologies. I assumed because of your life at home you'd be interested in it.
( kaito ✮ )
no not really
( #1 peekaboo fan )
wdym?
( kaito ✮ )
he was telling me about farm life as if i didn't get enough of that at home
( #1 peekaboo fan )
wait you grew up on a farm!?
( Lucas Errant )
I'm really interested in the culture. In the U.K I took horseback riding lessons but I've never seen any other farm animals in person.
( #1 peekaboo fan )
ooo that does sound fun
pigs are really cute
( kaito ✮ )
bruh
you would take horseback riding lessons
( #1 peekaboo fan )
you didn't like it there?
( kaito ✮ )
i mean... i liked being able to help my grams.
she's older so she needs that support
but in any other scenario??
nobody is getting that muddy for free
like you won't say that when you have a bull sprinting at you full speed
( #1 peekaboo )
this visual... 💀
( kaito ✮ )
bro 😭
( #1 peekaboo fan )
nah but fr
luca if ur interested you should volunteer at jabberwock
it's not the same but it's close
haru could use the extra help
( Lucas Errant )
Working with anamolous creatures would be an interesting learning experience. I'm not familiar so one day if you're free?
( kaito ✮ )
wait
( #1 peekaboo fan )
YESS
i'll show you everything i know ^_^
( kaito ✮ )
just the two of you?
( Lucas Errant )
I'm glad! I'll be available tomorrow during advisory. We have the same class right?
( #1 peekaboo fan )
yeah I'll meet u and we can go from there!
it's a date :3
( kaito ✮ )
WHAT
( #1 peekaboo fan )
u coming with?
( kaito ✮ )
yeah I'll come
( Lucas Errant )
I do worry if this is suited for you Kaito, but if you feel up to it I won't stop you.
( #1 peekaboo fan )
yea u don't like getting dirty right? you don't have to if you don't wanna
( kaito ✮ )
no it's fine i'll just try not to get anything on my uniform and
...keep an eye on him
( #1 peekaboo fan )
what
( kaito ✮ )
nothing.
( #1 peekaboo fan )
right so
see y'all tomorrow
im gonna go to bed
( Lucas Errant )
Yes, me as well. I wish both of you a good night's rest.
( #1 peekaboo fan )
seriously get sleep kai or im gonna to get you
( kaito ✮ )
promise? 😳
JK JK
gn
an emote of a cat waving goodbye signifies the end of the conversation. that's that you suppose. haru wouldn't mind right? he did really need the help. he's impressively good at what he does but you can't help but feel that he overexerts himself. maybe before you go you should text him to—
"meoww!!"
you nearly jump out of your skin. below you a soft yet prickly sensation is revealed to be a cat, pawing at your leg. the cute little thing is an orange cat with light spots along it's body and tail. as soon as your attention is fully away from your phone it jumps on your leg making you laugh.
it makes no complaints as you scoop it into your arms and cradle it close. it's a bit surprising to see one of the campus cats being so cuddly. they're friendly but very independent as chancellor cornelius had said. most of them don't linger for long, always busy with something else. this one is is a bit smaller though so maybe it was still new to the school.
the vibrant orange of it's coat of fur is reminiscent of the cat who fixed your window. where did that one go off too?
you finally lay down for the night. the warmth from your new companion lulling you to sleep as he settled on top of your chest.
in the morning you'd call haru to let him know you'd found some extra help.
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sen-ya · 2 months
Text
@heart-pirates-week || Day 3 || Penguin
Peng gets a third thing I had a lot of thoughts abt him while I made Heart Pirates Week stuff. Puttin it here for now so I can add it to the queue, I'll put it on Ao3 when I'm not on vacation lol. Previous Peng comics I've done (which I will also link once I am not on vacation lol) recommended before this, but not necessary.
take care
Summary:
“Where’re Beps and Cap?” “Dunno, think they went a few villages over looking for some nerd shit.”
or
teen peng & shachi start unpacking a few things
Warnings: implied child abuse/neglect
Word Count: 1669
“Where’re Beps and Cap?”
Penguin glanced around the open room the four teens had been calling home. It was run down, the wood floor scuffed and littered with what debris Law hadn’t already cleared. He was the only one who seemed invested in tidying the place so the process had become long and drawn out, with periodic full days dedicated to cleaning where Law would use what he could of his powers to move heavy things and direct the other three on how to best scrub the floor or mend the roof. What was left now was one large room that was half-tidy, loosely segmented into a corner for sleeping, a corner for eating, a corner for lounging, and a corner full of books and papers for Law and Bepo’s research. 
“Dunno, think they went a few villages over looking for some nerd shit,” Shachi shrugged from his spot in the lounging area. He took a long drag of the joint he was holding before holding it up as an offer. Wordlessly, Penguin made his way to sit beside him and easily took the smoke. Shachi sniffed and pushed his sunglasses up on his head, using them to hold back his bangs which he’d been meaning to cut for months at this point. He was crouched over some papers, clearly stolen from the research corner and flipped to their blank sides. He was scribbling flowing patterns, his hand turned black from the charcoal he sketched with. 
Penguin tilted his head, leaning in to get a better look. Shachi cast him a sideways glance. “Thinkin’ about our Jolly Roger,” he explained, turning the page so his friend could see better. “Cap gave me some ideas he had, hearts and shit like that. Real creative.” He huffed a laugh. Strewn across the page were decorative hearts, their lines swirling in where the curves met. Penguin smiled warmly at the drawings, his finger hovering over a few while he ghosted the outlines, careful not to touch the charcoal. Shachi held his head a little higher with pride at the approval.
“But this ain’t it,” he proclaimed with excitement, turning to grab a few papers he’d tossed to the side. He spread them out in front of them messily, showing off five or six pages of simplified, wide smiles. “Cap said hearts and you know what he was thinkin’.” Penguin gave a knowing nod. “So I was thinkin’ about that story he told us, the way that guy smiled at him and whatever. He was even smilin’ a little thinking about it. Anyway. Think he’ll like ‘em?”
“Yeah. Thoughtful,” Penguin beamed. Shachi scoffed and rolled his eyes, shoving his shoulder into his friend a little harder than he needed to. Penguin shoved him right back, and before long they were pushing each other back and forth, snickering as they play fought. 
“Don’t say dumb shit like that,” Shachi huffed, though it was clear he was pleased that the other boy could tell he’d spent time on his little project. He gave Penguin a final shove on his head, leaving a nearly solid black handprint on his hat. That only made Shachi’s grin widen and he snatched the hat away.
“What—!” Penguin lunged for it, Shachi quickly scrambling to his feet and running across the room.
“Calm down, you don’t need it right now!” Shachi laughed, turning on the faucet of the sink in their ‘eating’ corner. The delay in the water actually coming out was such that Penguin was able to cross the room and very nearly reclaim the hat before the other boy shoved it under the icy stream, rinsing the charcoal off his hands and the hat in the same go.
“Yes I do,” Penguin pouted, arms tight across his body with his chin pressed firmly into his chest. 
Shachi rolled his eyes, turning the water off and slinging the hat over the faucet. He flicked his wet hands at his friend’s face, causing him to startle backwards and look up. Their eyes met and Shachi frowned at the shame making a home on Penguin’s face. “Seriously?” he asked, a little hurt. “It’s just me.” 
Penguin’s gaze dropped, his hand shooting up to cover his right eye. The burn and accompanying scar that was there was long healed, leaving a distinct gap in his eyebrow and redness around his ever swollen eye. The iris was clouded, he hadn’t seen out of it in a few years at this point. All he offered as a response was a small shrug before beginning to step away. 
He didn’t make it far. Shachi’s hands, still icy from the tap, wormed their way to Penguin’s cheeks. His grip was firm as he forced eye contact. 
“You don’t gotta cover your face all the time,” he said sternly. Penguin tried to look around, desperately wanting to be anywhere but here. “I’m right! Don’t act like I’m not. Why are you ashamed of this stupid thing?” He jutted his chin towards the scar. Penguin only clawed at Shachi’s hands, trying his best to squirm away. 
The subject had come up a handful of times since it’d happened, but each time his apparent discomfort had gotten the other boy to drop the subject. Maybe it was because they were a little older now, or maybe it was because they were a little intoxicated, but this time Shachi didn’t back down. “It’s ‘cause you got it for me, isn’t it?”
Penguin’s good eye blew wide. “No,” the word was choked. “No, no.” His hands shot up, mirroring the gesture Shachi was holding firm. He shook his head as much as he could in the other’s grasp, his eye squeezing shut. An image sprung to his mind, one of a much younger ginger haired boy, stomach growling. He was a ball of well deserved anger, tightly wound and never afraid to spring. He understood when Penguin was quiet, knew that well fed and well cared for had different meanings. So of course Penguin had to squirrel some of that food away to the only person he felt understood him. Alone and in need — of care, of warmth, of companionship. 
There was one thing he would never regret, and that was the reason behind his injury.
But that didn’t make him proud of it. Didn’t make the waves of powerlessness the scar brought on any easier to weather. Didn’t make him feel less that he should have left sooner, didn’t make him feel less weak for not being able to fight back. There were so many things tied up in what he saw when he looked in a mirror. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t there. Hide it away to avoid people staring in a way that reminded him they could see it. 
Shachi had a tear in the corner of his eye, and if it weren’t for that anyone would have thought he was absolutely livid. But Penguin knew better, and he felt his heart fracturing as he recognized guilt in his friend’s stare. “I’d do it again,” he muttered. Then, confidently, “I’d do it a million times if it meant you’re taken care of.”
Shachi’s eyesbrows knit together even tighter as the tear fell free, and after that they kept coming. “I told you he’d kick your ass,” he squeaked.
“Didn’t care.”
“You fucking should have.”
Another rigid shake of the head. 
“You’re only a year older than me,” Shachi tried. “I don’t need taking care of.”
At that Penguin blinked, considered it for a moment. “I know,” he said carefully. “…But I want to take care of you.”
Shachi studied his face, confused. Penguin knew he was doing it again, giving his friend that look. The one he knew gave him away, the one he was certain Shachi had yet to find a name for. “Actually,” Penguin muttered, swallowing nervously. “I think…?” He looked around, confidence wavering. He screwed his eyes shut to make it easier and blurted, “I think I wanna kiss you. Can I?”
Silence.
Too long of a silence.
After what felt like ages he cracked his eye open and he could see Shachi’s gears turning. There wasn’t hesitance, per se, but questions he seemed to be working through in his mind rapid fire. Finally, he tilted his head, gave a shrug.
“Sure.”
It was quick, awkward, new. 
When it was over both of them dropped their hands back to their sides, studying the person in front of them. Penguin’s heart thrummed, and he smiled listlessly. As Shachi pressed his lips together in a tight line, evaluating the situation, he realized he couldn’t recall ever seeing such a grin on his friend’s face. After a few more moments of consideration he offered, “I think I liked that.”
Before either could think on it more their front door slammed open, Law and Bepo strolling in. “Yeah, just put them on my desk,” Law was saying, nodding to the appropriate corner over the stack of books he had in his hands. Behind him, Bepo carried twice as many.
Shachi leaned to the side to look around Penguin. “Sup nerds?” he called. Law flipped him off in response.
“The woman at the library was so nice!” Bepo cooed, easily sliding his book stack where Law had asked. “She saw how much we got through while we were there, so she let us borrow twice as many books.”
“I’m more surprised that they had this much worth reading,” Law mused. He sounded calm, but it was clear to the other boys that he was just as giddy about the development as Bepo. 
“What are they?” Shachi made his way to their corner, carelessly picking up a book to flip through. Law snapped at him to be careful, and quickly the three of them started to stir up a commotion.
Penguin sighed a chuckle, hanging back to watch the show as he gave himself a moment to consider the afternoon. 
Yeah, he decided. He thought he liked it too.
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