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kithtaehyung · 4 months

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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

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

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 :'))

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

tbc. :)

so... how did it go! | join the server!

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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tojiscumdumpster · 4 months

Text

⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.

✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.

✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!

✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.

I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki.

Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.

Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive.

Which I have no issue with fulfilling.

My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life.

However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born.

It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing.

I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me.

That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision.

How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.

And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage.

This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction.

It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot.

I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival.

As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task.

Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going.

To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present.

Maybe tonight reminds him of her?

“Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response.

The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me.

His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks.

The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty.

But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished.

“Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”

Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them.

Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition.

Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed.

That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture.

However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made.

So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties?

All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view.

As always, dinner is silent.

Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment.

If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan.

I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.

My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction.

As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.

When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together.

She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.

I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that.

Not likely.

I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why?

Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward.

Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak.

I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”

“It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me?

“There is something I would like to discuss with you.”

“It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.

“Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze.

He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”

“Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”

His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage?

This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond?

The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.

No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.

I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife.

But how long?

How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?

How long?

It possibly couldn’t be more than a year.

This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic.

However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.

“Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings.

I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”

“We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”

“Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew.

I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.

So, I continue.

“I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”

My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way.

“If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded.

I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love.

Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this.

Not with Byakuya.

By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good.

But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning.

Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed.

I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind.

Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him.

“Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”

I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”

“For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”

My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed.

“You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”

“But… why?” I questioned.

“Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”

I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”

“Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement.

“It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us.

“Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”

I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”

“Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans.

“You’re being ridicu—”

“That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”

“Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”

It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I.

Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter.

But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall.

Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous.

I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before.

“Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”

“Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone.

He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh.

“I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”

I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”

“I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”

“My lord… please.”

He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”

He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day.

I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms.

I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—

“May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core.

His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me.

When he is like this–I do not loathe him.

“You may.”

Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.

How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so.

My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not.

He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more.

This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again.

Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing.

Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans.

We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me.

“Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to.

I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on.

My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.

He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not.

No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers.

“My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back.

“You are art, Y/N.”

“Address me as your lady,” I demanded.

“Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”

“Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly.

His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight.

He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste.

Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking.

He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain.

“Am I up to your liking?” He quips.

I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”

The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered.

He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers.

I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt.

I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release.

Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me.

He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name.

“Byakuya…”

He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”

“I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”

“Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me.

He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers.

Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for.

There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before.

“Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred.

“But I have barely touched you, blossom.”

I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

“You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”

“Yes.”

“Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”

The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.

“Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”

“Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand.

I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me.

For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise.

Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance.

I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him.

He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls.

“I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts.

I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”

Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness.

I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement.

My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating.

“You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”

“More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”

“So desperate for my come, are you?”

I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.

I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets.

Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.

He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue.

“When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”

I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”

“So come for me, blossom.”

His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings.

I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release.

Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me?

How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life?

“You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”

“Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”

“I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”

“Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”

“And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”

Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.

Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.

Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt.

But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat.

An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year.

“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence.

I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”

“For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”

His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”

He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”

thank you for reading. reblogs, comments, and likes are well appreciated. if you enjoy my work, please be sure to check our my masterlist for more. ෆ

#anime x black!reader #fanfic smut #anime x reader #bleach x black reader #bleach x reader #bleach fanfic #bleach smut #byakuya kuchiki x reader #byakuya kuchiki x black reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #x black reader #black reader #byakuya smut #anime smut

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multifandomslxt · 21 days

Note

Hey Krystal! 💎 It's me again 😌

Hope you've been well. 🥰

WayV members as type of rich bfs (sugar daddies) 👀..... Anything and everything within this prompt is most welcome 🤭. Have a great day bye ❤

Hey sweetheart! how are you?

You scared me again with the name ngl lmaoo

but it's all good

ENJOY<333

Way V Members as Sugar Daddies

MDNI

MINORS GO AWAY

Kun

He's a bit hard to get through to at first IMO

When he says sugar daddy he means money in exchange for accompanying him to events

he's so strict with himself that he really doesn't allow it to get past that.

That's all it is for a few months yk?

until you express that it seems a bit weird because you were definitely expecting more...

And Kun like the damn provider he is

gives you just that...more

but definitely explains to you that he's a possessive little shit.

good pu$$y turns a perfectly sane man in to a mad man pt.1

he's mad asf for youuuu

now that s3x is involved this man SPOILSSSSSSS you

way more than he was doing prior

which seems a bit impossible because babyyy you were getting bagsssss

he's so strict too like he makes it clear that you belong to him

period.

istg at some point he graduates from sugar daddy to husband

you want a spontaneous trip to some crazy rich island? ok, no problem

you want a bag that costs way too much money? he'll get you that in the next 2 hours

also...don't let that cute smile fool you, the man is a menace.

"Can't believe I deprived myself of this pretty c*nt" he thrusts inside you so slow...dangerously slow

"That's right baby Daddy's right here to give you everything you need"

Ten

Maam.

he gets right to it. lmaooo

Tells you that he needs you to accompany him to events and asks you if you're ok with other "stuff"

duhhh

first off the chemistry between y'all is AMAZINGGG

We all know this man loves fashion so having the latest designer pieces is a given

what starts off as a lil service after events

blooms into something more

very protective of you

baby he doesn't play about you or the custom diamonds he put around your neck. TRUST!

compared to before the relationship bloomed the s3x between you two was rather respectful?...yh that's the word

now?

LMAOOOOO

he rips that shit off youuu

President of the "I'll just buy you a new one" club

it's rough btw unlike Kun, Ten is rough and occasionally enjoys it when you're on top

hehe

"fuck...I'd choose this pu$$y over diamonds any day"

Winwin

See how pretty this man is?

yeah he's gonna make sure you're even prettier than him

Literally bathes you in expensive shit.

SPOILLS you omggg

it's worrying sometimes

to the point where the bank calls him

asking if he's aware that there is a concerning amount of money leaving his account

From head to toe it's luxuryyyyy

the s3x is good....just good

I'm sure I've said this before but Winiwn strikes me as someone who just gets to it.

not too rough not too gentle yk?

its just right

he does like when you wear that little diamond collar he got you when he's ball deep inside you though

he's strictly sugar daddy btw

I think he'd prefer that

Xiaojun

if you manage to pull him and keep him you're one lucky mf

this man moves through sugar babies like the days of the week

He likes the thrill of it all imo

yes he'll spoil you

but you better make sure the pleasure you give him is worth the 100k he just splurged

"C'mon now princess, Daddy knows you can do way better than that" he whispers teasingly as your body trembles from exhaustion and overstimulation

he likes to be kept on his toes

and you keep surprising him

your bills are paid and you're getting f*cked dumb

and he has the prettiest girl to spoil and break

It's a win-win honestly

Hendery

he's so sweet at first omlll

yes he dotes on you and all that jazz

but you guys actually become friends yk?

he's a whole gentleman

never crossing the line

just kind and attentive

gets you WHATEVER you want

and mean ANYTHING

nothing is out of reach for his baby

he just expects you to behave

but what's the fun in that?

let him catch you trying to buy things with your own money

or some shit like that

you are DONEE

when he f*cks you

he ensures that you merge with the mattress

takes "fuck you into the mattress" literally

ass up face down supremacy

do not play with him like that.

"Move your hand baby, I told you actions have consequences"

Yang Yang

This mf is just horny

lmaooo

very possessive oml

and not in the mature way like Kun or the gentlemanly way like Hendery

but possessive like a damn child

you go to parties together and he doesn't want you talking for anybody else too long

look at him and only him

the fucker got you a carrier bracelet with his name embedded into it

and told you to wear it at all times

for the most part, he's harmless

extremely touchy-feely

controls his urges well though

unless you're fucking around too much

then he has to show you why you should just let him be

it's fast and hard

I'm so serious

This MF can go roundsss

because he's desperate asf

BABY TRAPPING CENTRAL

"Such a fuckin' tease. let's see how much teasing you'll do when I swell you up hm?"

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nightgoodomens · 1 month

Note

Quick question. Is it just me or recently there has been an increasing pattern of random stuff on TL from a million years ago about something DT/GT related or the same story PD always says about David? People just losing their minds over how romantic they are with zero prompts or just you know... Anything romantic happening? It's weird cause I don't follow any of her fans or anything related to her but nowadays I bump into some fan\anon Twitter accounts suddenly digging things up??? If everything is perfect, then what's with the struggle babes?😂 If it's PR trying to actually draw attention to the fact that everything is going downhill and NOTHING romantic or nice has happened in the recent year, then GENIUS. It's working beautifully. I'm laughing so hard at how PR is dying to shove the good old " perfect marriage" into our faces while aggressively hammering the doors of that closet to keep the dudes from breaking out and failing miserably at both.

Oh I remember when GT’s dad tried to rewrite history but she’s the one who confirmed she was stalking DT until he gave in and it’s great because he’s a great asset.

Their fans are bringing stuff back because they have no actual sweet content nowadays. And I think more and more people are noticing that things aren’t the way they used to be. How many times can you laugh at the same “joke” of GT being the way she is about DT? How many times can you ignore the way he’s been looking with her lately - minus staged red carpets? These haven’t been perfect either.

Wordle is a perfect excuse to keep fans thinking everything is ok while they sort things out. Absolutely bare minimum effort required from both parties to keep the rumours dead. Look - they’re playing, hashtag marriage, everything is great! Honestly seeing how done DT was with the paparazzi I think he’s loving needing to just play a game and text it over. But what people are ignoring is that there hasn’t been proof of him being home for a very long time now - that’s why I’m expecting a paparazzi shot at one point to kill that rumour 😂 Unless the negotiations really went well. I hope they did for his sake.

Interesting how it’s been, isn’t it? Everything that happened since Cali… How bad things have gotten with Oliviers, the snap, the dead silence, and the triumphant come back of both MS & DT to the NT.

So bloody curious what we are getting at BAFTAs.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR

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atopcat · 6 months

Note

I really liked your post about Rhaenicent. What do you think of Olivia’s recent interviews in regards to Alicent’s character, she seems to be really pushing for Rhaenicent despite everything.

Just to start I want to make it clear that this isn’t an attack against Olivia Cooke, she’s a brilliant actress who is entitled to her opinions. As a fan however I don’t like her interpretation of Alicent simply because she’s made it abundantly clear she’s more invested in Rhaenicent than Alicent herself.

Olivia could’ve done a Lena Headey and unapologetically supported her character despite not being popular with the general audience, who cares if people think she’s a bitch, she’s your bitch and that’s all that matters. Instead she sought out the one part of the fanbase who supposedly like Alicent but also has a large universal following: Rhaenicent.

Here’s where it gets tricky, when it comes to ships such as Rhaewin, Jacegan, Laenyra, Daemyra, Jace/Baela, Alicole, Aemond/Alys, Helaemond etc. it’s pretty straightforward: you’re a fan of both characters, maybe one more than the other but you do genuinely like both. Rhaenicent doesn’t have this, it’s a lot more complicated mainly because it’s the only one that doesn’t exist in book canon.

The Rhaenicent fan base is split into three unequally distributed categories:

>1% who are genuine fans of both Rhaenyra and Alicent, emphasis on the genuine because although some claim to be they end up in either of the latter two. The problem with these fans is that they’ve succumbed to the trap of “benevolent misogyny”, reducing both women to being nothing more than 24/7 victims of evil men. They rob Alicent of her ambition, Rhaenyra of her agency, they think these women will abandon everything and run off on dragon back because they’re still silly teenage girls who only care about cake and clothes.

14% are Alicent stans, the majority of them don’t actually like Rhaenyra she’s simply a self insert because there is no one else you can ship her with other than Criston but Alicole is nowhere near as popular because it doesn’t include a fan favourite. In Rhaenicent’s case the fan favourite is Rhaenyra not Alicent.

85% are all Team Rhaenyra, the only version of Alicent they’re interested in is one who is nothing more than a personal cheerleader for the Black Queen. They don’t want to hear about how Rhaenyra’s actions negatively affected Alicent, only how Alicent still cares about her and will do anything for her despite everything.

Both Olivia and Emily Carey faced a lot of harassment on social media, someone even came up to Olivia in real life and called Alicent a c*nt to her face. I know when you’re in a fandom bubble it’s easy to think Alicent and Team Green are just as popular as Rhaenyra and Team Black but that’s far from the truth. So although the vast majority of Rhaenicents are first and foremost Rhaenyra stans, they’re also the ones most welcoming to the actresses who are having a hard time because of stupid trolls who can’t differentiate between a character and the actor playing them.

Then it makes sense why Olivia will jump on board the Rhaenicent train, but it comes at the expense of her character. I’ve read some of her recent interviews, she’s throwing not just Alicent under the bus but also the entirety of Team Green just to maintain the illusion that Alicent’s no.1 priority will always be Rhaenyra Targaryen.

“Alicent is scared of Criston”, he’s her right hand man, the only one who has her back, he’s loyal to a fault and President of the Alicent Fan Club. But he’s also disliked by Team Black for this very reason, he’s openly antagonistic to Rhaenyra calling her a “spoiled c*nt” so Olivia wants to distance herself from Alicent’s most ardent supporter.

“she’s watching him [Aemond] grow up into an absolute killer, which is terrifying for her”, if Criston is President of the Team Alicent club then Aemond is Vice President. You see throughout Season 1 how close she is to her second son, how she relies on him for support, how he truly loves and respects her. He said he wants Luke’s eye as a gift for his mother, from Alicent’s four children she is definitely closest to Aemond but he’s also the one who killed Nyra’s precious baby so fans don’t like him. Again, Olivia is detaching Alicent from her own children so she can appeal to Rhaenicents who mourned their sweet boy Luke.

“That’s what the whole series has been about: trying to get back to each other” this coupled with her saying she pushed for a Rhaenicent reunion at the end of S2 really emphasises just how willing she is to destroy everything about Alicent’s character in order to warp her into the sanitised version of a Rhaenicent wet dream.

Alicent doesn’t care her grandson was slaughtered right in front of her.

Alicent doesn’t care her 6 year old granddaughter was threatened with r*pe.

Alicent doesn’t care her daughter went insane.

Alicent doesn’t care Team Black almost killed her sons in battle.

Olivia’s version of Alicent doesn’t care about anything that doesn’t revolve around worshiping the ground Rhaenyra walks on. So as far as she’s concerned there is “still hope” because her ideal ending is one where Alicent abandons her family, agency and ambition just so she can be Rhaenyra’s personal cheerleader for the rest of her life. The Alicent she’s envisioning is one who will set her own children on fire just to keep Nyra warm.

#house of the dragon #hotd critical #hotd #alicent hightower #team green #pro team green #anti rhaenicent #Olivia Cooke #hotd cast #hotd meta #asoiaf meta #valyrianscrolls #anonymous

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pedripics · 20 hours

Text

FULL PRESS CONFERENCE EURO 2024 | SPAIN NT - june 11, 2024

For many years we were talking about the style of play of the national team. The style that framed that generation of 08, 10, 12, the Tiki Taka, the possession, the positional game. For some time now I have the feeling that this debate has been left behind. Do we have more vertical players, on the wings, etc. You, who are representative of that first type of football, do you think we have left that debate behind? Do you think there's any sense in this debate, as you're experiencing it from inside the team?

"Well, I think anything compared to the team that made us world champions is complicated. We're going to lose out on a lot of things, but hey, we try to be as much like them as possible. It is true that now the players we have, are with different qualities, but we always try to keep our style of play and above all, because we are going to win. We also don't have to always be true to style and try to have possession. We want to win."

How are you physically? How is your right leg and what does that shot mean to you the other day, that you finished the goal in Mallorca with that right leg?

"Well, to be honest, I have already said it many times that the truth is, I feel very good physically and I am very much looking forward to, above all, facing the Croatia and starting the EUROs."

How's the anxiety thing going? Because of course, the debut is always important for the team, a stumbling block at the beginning makes everything very ugly. How do you deal with that feeling of anxiety that is created before the start of a great championship?

"Yes, we know that the first game is important. It's important to start off on a good foot, but well, it's been seen that many teams win a big tournament by losing the first game. There's no need to be anxious about that game. It is clear that we are going in to win and we are not going to want to leave anything off the field. And above all, well, get out with everything. We really want it, we're very young and we really want it to start now."

You know there are a lot of expectations with you, a lot is always expected of you. Your return after a year and a half with goals has also generated those expectations. Do you feel that you can be very important, that you come to this team at a good moment and that you can play an important role in this team?

"Well, yes, I feel I can contribute a lot. I've worked hard to get to where I am now. This season has been difficult for me, but it is clear that I am in one of the best moments of this year and I try to be the best I can for the team and help as much as I can."

I wanted you to take a look back at this difficult time for you. I wanted to know if in that year and a half, two years, you play with fear. In your reappearance, you return to the pitch. Have you ever thought I'm afraid of another relapse? (what a stupid and insensitive question lmao)

"No, not really. Are you more afraid? I am not afraid of a relapse, it seems that the press is the one that is afraid because you are always talking about it. It has been a complicated season, but I am in a great moment, wanting to play and enjoy myself above all."

In Qatar, at the World Cup, you were one of the big pictures of all the national teams, we saw you everywhere. This is your second European Cup, it's been over a year and a half. Do you feel that you are one of the stars of this team, that you have a great responsibility because you are more mature, more experienced and there are young people younger than you, which is already difficult, but there are younger players?

""Well, it is true that the previous EUROs, for example, I remember it very well. We had a great championship and I think if it wouldn't have come down to those penalties against Italy, we might have had a chance of winning it. And above all, I feel very good, with a lot of desire. I feel important because the mister tells me so, he trusts me a lot and I'm really looking forward to the start of the tournament."

I wanted to ask you what it feels like inside the locker room. Spain is not treated as one of the favourites, but as a candidate, but there is a lot of talk that there are no stars of the level of Mbappe, players of that type, Bellingham, but you have more of a team. So I wanted to ask you what feeling you have and if you care or vice versa, it may even be a motivation that you do not get into the group of favourites.

"Yes, above all, we have motivation. I think the last few days we've talked about it, that the biggest foundation we have is that we're a team, we're a family both on and off the pitch. And I think that a team will always beat a single player. And above all that is our strength, that we are very united both on and off the pitch."

In the last four games between Barça and the national team you've scored two braces. I wanted to ask you first of all if you have been working on this aspect of your goalscoring lately and how you feel on the pitch. Do you prefer to play a bit more forward to have this facility with the goal?

"Thank you, yes, I always try to improve. These are things that Luis asks for example me when I'm here and the truth is, they are things that I try to work on day by day in the training, when I can, I try to keep practising my finishing. Especially the position in which I play is much more advanced, you have many more opportunities to reach goals and especially you are in the danger zone."

I wanted to ask you about the importance of Luis de la Fuente. You did not play with the national team before the game against Andorra since December 6, 2022. I wanted to know, in that year and a half that's been going on, how many calls you've had? How many times have you met Luis de la Fuente to receive that support from the coach?

"Well, especially since he took over, because every time I see that I had an injury or something, he always called me, he cared about me and was concerned about me and the truth is that I am very grateful to him. Because in the bad moments, when everyone is critical and everything is against you, the fact that the coach of the national team cares about you, gives you a lot of confidence, and you want to work to improve and give him that confidence back that he has given me."

It's your second EUROs, but for example, it's the first for Lamine Yamal, your teammate at Barça. Has he asked you for some advice or have you given your advice to him?

"Well, Lamine, there's little advice you can give to him. I think that on the pitch he doesn't think too much about the pressure to play a EUROs or a big tournament. He plays and enjoys himself, and you can tell that he does. And above all to help him, that if he has any doubts, anything that might come to his mind, then I try to help him."

How is the group inside and what is your goal in this European Cup? You see yourselves as finalists, semi-finalists, have you talked about anything? What's the goal?

"Well, the group is really looking forward to the start of the tournament. That's normal. In the days leading up to the tournament, what you want most is for the first match to come. And well, I think that the objectives are achieved day after day and match after match. But it's clear that we didn't come to Germany to try to lose."

In the last tournaments, Luis Enrique said that he was the leader of the team. I don't know if to take the pressure off you, but I assume so. Now, in this national team, where the profile of the coach is very different, who is the leader? Is there a point of reference in the dressing room that takes the weight or is the leadership shared?

"Well, I think the leader is the team as a whole. There are a many of players, yes it is true that the captains help us a lot, they act as leaders, but I think we are a team and there is not a leader that stands out for the rest."

#the way Pedri has been answering question since he was 16 or 17 with so much maturity needs to be studied #some journalists need to step up their game though #pedri #pedri gonzalez #spain nt #*euros 2024 #*interview

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artists-ally · 8 months

Text

{Flatline} Harvey x OFC {Pt. 3)

Uh ohhhh guys it’s Pt. 3 🤭🤭🤭 I am so excited for this. It’s honestly one of my favorite things I’ve written and I hope you all agree. There is a poll at the end so make sure to vote for that <3 enjooyyyyy p.s. I hope this does good justice for this series.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Character Playlist

Word Count: 12,795

Warnings: language, angst, anxious thoughts, one singular mention of sexual h*r*ssm*nt in regards to Harvey’s actions with Claudia, smut 18+, the tiniest bit of food play, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink go brrr

***Italic sections indicate flashbacks***

Summary: The aftermath of Harvey breaking his promise to Claudia.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @maxdamax @ashcosmo

~~~~~~

HARVEY'S POV

My legs were numb. That sort of numbness when something happens that you can’t explain. It felt like my life just flashed before my eyes. That image of Claudia’s shaking lip… hearing her broken voice… I don’t think I’ll ever get it out of my fucking head.

“Harvey, I requested those trades be made an hour ago. Do you wanna tell me why… Harvey?”

I could see Jessica in front of me, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing she said.

“Harvey, what’s going on?” She closed the door, and I put a hand out to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall on the floor. “What happened?” “I fucked up,” I whispered.

“Yeah, no shit. You tanked our only opportunity to get a leg up on this Gustoson case. You’re damn right you fucked up-”

“No no,” I sat on the arm of the chair. My hands began to shake so I folded them together. Jessica saw.

“What the hell did you do?”

“I yelled at Claudia…”

She just blinked at me. “Is that seriously what you’re concerned about? Yelling at an associate? Okay, you yelled at an associate, what’s new? That might as well be in your job description.”

“No no no I didn’t just yell at her I threatened to do the one thing that I promised I would never do and now she’s gone. She left. I can’t- I don’t- I never meant to hurt her but she suggested that we file a motion to dismiss and I got so caught up in my anger about her accusing me of using her that I lost my-”

“Using her? Harvey, what is going on?” “I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Donna barged in.

“Donna please don’t-”

“Harvey and Claudia have been ‘working together’ for the last month and a half, when in reality he has been a selfish, lying, arrogant brat who has crossed so many lines it’s beginning to look like a Rorschach Test.”

“You know?” I felt my heart suffocate myself. I thought I was gonna throw up.

“In all honesty Harvey, no I didn’t. Not until Claudia just broke down in the elevator and told me everything. I cannot believe that you would use her like that. For your own personal satisfaction are you out of your fucking mind?” “Harvey, what the hell is she talking about?” Jessica’s voice was full of hostility.

“He thought that it would be a good idea to boost Claudia’s confidence by getting into her pants.”

“Donna it wasn’t-”

Jessica scoffed, covering her face. “What the hell is wrong with you? This has got sexual harassment written all over it, Havrey. Could you really be that delusional?”

“For fucks sake it wasn’t like that!” I screamed. Genuinely screamed and paced around. “I didn’t use her, not intentionally. God dammit I haven't been able to think clearly since the first day that I saw Claudia. She is an incredible lawyer and all I wanted to do was give her something else to focus on because she was afraid to be in a room with me. I just- all I wanted to do was help her find a little bit of confidence and oh my god this sounds so much worse when I say it outloud.”

Donna and Jessica exchanged a look while I slowly felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and stomped on the floor with cleats.

“Okay Harvey, sit down and tell us what happened,” Donna steered me away from putting a hole in the wall to my desk.

“I don’t even know, Donna.” “Well while you two enjoy going down memory lane, I’ll be fighting for our firm's life. If you two don’t get your shit together, and by you two I mean Harvey, then… I don’t even know then.”

She all but slammed the door on her way out, patrons on the other side sending worried glances our way. I turned my chair so they wouldn’t see me.

“How long has this been going on?” Donna asked.

I dug my nails into my skin. “Almost two months.”

“Two months? Harvey, how could you not tell me?” “Because I didn’t want to,” I admitted. “And partly because I kind of thought you already knew. You know, the whole ‘Donna superpower’ shit you do.”

“I know I can’t believe I missed it,” she took the chair in front of me. I glared at her so hard I thought I’d light that hair of hers on fire. “Okay bad time for a joke. So, bachelor, why don’t you start from the beginning. And please, I don’t need to know the dirty details, despite my curiosity. Claudia is like a little sister to me and I really don’t want to picture you and her and oh my god I already am. Ugh, please start talking so I don’t have to be tortured.”

So dramatic. I was good looking, and so was Claudia. Why wouldn’t anyone want to picture us together? Then my eyes snapped to the chair she was sitting on. Oh god. Donna was in the chair that I was the first time Claudia and I-

“Get up,” I blurted out, reaching for her and placing her in my desk chair. God dammit we used that one too. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

We sat down on the couch and I rubbed my strained eyes. Here goes nothing.

“When Sheila first sent over the recruits from Harvard, I interviewed all of them. Except for one. There were thirteen associates but I only had twelve meetings set up. So I asked Louis if he was interviewing any of the newbies and he said just one. Obviously this person was some sort of idiot to be going to Louis instead of me, so I popped in.”

“Well, Claudia I think that you have some unbelievable potential at this firm and I’d just like to- Harvey, what are you doing here I am in the middle of an interview.”

“Oh I know, I just wanted to drop by and see how it was going.”

In front of Louis was this warm, chestnut brown head of sleek, silk like hair. She was wearing a lavender blouse and a black maxi skirt with a slit to the knee. She had on these black flats with pearls on them. Summer had just ended, and there was some remaining sunburn on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were surrounded by prominent lashes and eyebrows, a fine line of makeup between the two; lavender, to match the top.

“It’s going great, now will you get the hell out and tend to your own interviews and stop barging in on my only one?”

“Harvey Specter,” I introduced, sticking out my hand. She looked from it over to Louis, who was just shooting me daggers.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”“Louis, I’m not trying to woo your associate, I’m just introducing myself to her. We are kind of name partners, you know. It’s the courteous thing to do.”

Again, all she did was look at my hand before slowly standing up. I didn’t miss the way she tried to subtly wipe her hand on her skirt.

“I’m Claudia. Claudia Martin.”

God dammit that was a pretty name. It sounded so sophisticated, so mature and would sound really nice next to mine. Or with mine. Harvey Specter and Claudia Martin. I don’t know why I thought of hearing or seeing ‘Claudia Specter’ one day, but I did. And I didn’t hate the way it sounded.

“Welcome to Pearson Specter Litt,” I gave a nice smile. It was clear she was already intimidated to be here, I didn’t need to add to that fire. She barely looked me in the eye for two seconds, but those two seconds made my head spin.

She had the most gorgeous eyes I think I’ve ever seen in my life. They were amber in the middle but had this ring of hazel around the outer rim. It was just… not something I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t want her to look away because I just wanted to keep looking at them.

And that blush… that I knew wasn’t her sunburn. Not the way it creeped up the side of her face, or at the base of her neck.

Jesus Harvey, stop staring at her. You’re probably giving off major stalker vibes.

“Well I’ll be around if you need anything, Claudia. Don’t be shy,” I smiled, the best charming one I could. Her full lips were in a tight line, her fingers picking at each other before she sat back down with Louis.

“Okay so you sabotaged Louis’ meeting with Claudia and thought she was beautiful? Why didn’t you just say that?” Donna interrupted.

“Didn’t you ask me to start from the beginning?” She snapped her lips closed. “So let me tell the goddamn story. Yes, I thought she was stunning. I mean, no one in their right mind would think otherwise. She is so pretty and so smart and twice the person I wish I could be. There is just something about her that I can’t shake from my memory.”

“Yeah we get it, you’re head over heels for Claudia. Now on with it I don’t have all day.”

I rolled my eyes.

“That was the first time I met her. It wasn’t long after that she started working here when I talked to her again. She was just sitting at her desk, Griffin and whoever else crowded around the opposite end of the bullpen. She was excluded and it made me feel bad.”

I’ve always thought Griffin would be at the top of my list for top associates. He was like me; only shorter, not as good looking, and had blue eyes instead of brown. Did I mention he wasn’t as good looking? Anyway, I had only one intention: get Claudia alone so I could talk to her.

Every day since she started a few weeks ago, I have watched her get off the elevator, walk through the office, and disappear around the corner. It wasn’t fair that she got to look like that, walk like that, and no one was around to appreciate it.

She was so fucking eye catching. And I didn’t want the other slobs at this firm to get to her before I could.

“Claudia, do you mind helping me with something for a few minutes?” I asked, voice just loud enough for Griffin to hear.

She looked up, pen cap between her rosy lips, and blinked. That flush creeped onto her cheeks. I tried not to smile.

“Sure,” she nodded once and stood up, following me out.

I was not so subtle with the look that I gave Griffin, and he wasn’t so subtle with the way he spoke.

“Is there something you need, Harvey? Claudia is in the middle of a very important depo documentation. I’d hate for her to fall behind.”

What a dick. “No, Griffin. It seems like you’ve got more important things to do with your book club than working on whatever Louis assigned you, so Claudia will work just fine. I prefer an actually hard working associate to someone who’s discussing whatever mediocre steak dinner you had at Texas Roadhouse last Wednesday.”

“Griffin’s eyes simmered and shot daggers into Claudia. But he didn’t open his mouth. I thought about punching him in the face for looking at her like that, and that’s when I realized I was fucked. That I was willing to do that for Claudia when it was literally the second time I’ve ever talked to her.”

“I’ll say,” Donna huffed. “What happened next?” “I just had her deliver some letters for me to the courthouse. I asked her something about Griffin, if they were ever acquainted with each other.”

“And what did she say?”

“She told me that Griffin was a total douchebag and tried to use his social status to get a leg up on her in class discussions, cutting corners to discredit her. It was so unfair and I just-”

Donna put a hand on my knee. “Relax, Harvey. Griffin isn’t here, stop looking like you want to put him through a wall.” “Well, Donna, I do want to put him through a wall because he has been an asshole to Claudia for no other reason than she was good at her job. It makes me sick.”

“When did you start becoming so protective of her? I’ve never seen you like this with anyone other than Mike, Louis, Jessica and myself. You must… really really care about her.”

“I think it was during the mock trial. She was always off to the side, always attentive, but never spoke up. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over at her every once and a while to see if she wanted to be included. But she never did.”

“This case may seem simple, but the husband is a grade A asshole. He has done everything to cover his tracks and is gonna come at us with everything he’s got. Find me some evidence and make it good.”

They all branched off, heading this way and that. Claudia went to the only logical place, right to me.

“Hi, Mr. Specter-sir. I just have one question about-about the case if you’ve got a minute. If you have somewhere to be I understand and I can ask later,” she said quickly.

“Of course, what do you want to know?” I couldn’t help but think her stuttering was cute. I knew she was nervous, specifically around me; she always seemed so tense with me, so I made sure to always speak quietly and calmly with her.

“Was Mr. Saros the one who paid off that investment banker? Did the money come from his account directly or a different one?”

God she was so good. “It came from him and his wife’s joint account.”

Claudia had a slight grin to her lips, and she nodded before striding away. She was going to crack this wide open. I just knew it.

I went back to my office to wait it out, to see if any one could come up with an idea before Claudia. Before I knew it, it was three o'clock and I had a meeting to go to for another case Mike and I were working on. When we got in the car, Mike was looking at me with a knowing smile.

“What?”

He shook his head, “Nothing, just wondering how long you’re going to pretend you’re not in love with Claudia Martin.”

“The first year associate?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who she is. I see you watch her like a starving animal every time she comes into the office. And every time she leaves. And every time she asks Donna something.”

Uh oh.

“Oh please, I have far better things to do than get involved with a first year.”

“You didn’t deny that you were in love with her.”

“Do you want to get smacked? Or I could kick you out of this car at sixty miles per hour, see how you like the taste of asphalt.” Mike did not know when to stop pushing my buttons.

“I think you just proved my theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you are in love and you are incredibly protective of Claudia. I heard about what you said to Griffin when he offered his help because Claudia was ‘too busy’. You know he pawned that work off to her, right?”

My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched, as well as my fists. I fixed my gaze out the window and took some deep breaths. Jesus… he had a point. A huge point. God dammit I’m in trouble.

“Mike knew before I did?” Donna sounded mildly offended.

“Well, not really. I never told him what we were doing. But I did tell him that I liked her. And when he told me that Griffin was pawning off his work to Caudia it sent me into a spiral. Shit, Donna… I am in so deep with Claudia. I really fucked up. I mean really bad. I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t treat her like the other associates because she wasn’t like the other associates. She was Claudia. And Claudia was- is- so much better than the rest of them.” “Why would you make a promise like that if you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it?” “I had every intention of keeping it, but then all the shit with started happening when Louis found out about Mike being a fraud and he took that fucking case with Gerard and I couldn’t hold it together.” “Why did you even make it in the first place?” Donna asked, but I really didn’t want to tell this story.

I sighed, the type of sigh that fills your whole body.

“I was going off on Griffin one day, for being an asshole to some of the other associates, about pawning off his work to Claudia and she saw.”

“Griffin, I don’t care whose idea it was. You were the one to destroy his work, so you’re going to face the consequences.”

“It was just a prank, the entire document wasn’t supposed to be deleted.”

“You think tampering with another associate’s work is a prank? I hope when you go home tonight you think long and hard about who you wanna be as a man because as of right now, there isn’t going to be anything for you to come back to tomorrow. And you better pray to whatever you believe in because if there’s one person you don’t want to make an enemy out of, it’s me. Do you understand that?”

He clenched his jax, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yes.”

“You are going to be Louis’ personal associate.”“No, no way you can make me work for that man. He’s a total airhead.”“Yes, he is, now you two have something to talk about. You can bond over your selfish, outrageous egotistical behavior, it’ll be just like looking in a mirror.”

“Harvey I’m-”

“I don’t care what you are Griffin. You have no right to treat the other associates like that, especially Claudia. If I ever catch wind of you throwing your work load on her again so help me God I will make sure it is the last thing you do at this firm.”

If my point wasn’t clear enough by my words, the look I gave him would certainly do. He left my office without another word and I followed his movements all the way. But my eyes met Claudia’s. And they were wide and panicked. She quickly scurried away, head down and steps fast. She looked so afraid.

She wasn’t afraid of me was she? I mean, all I had done was rip Griffin a new one for being an asshole. And he deserved it, Claudia would never do something to deserve that kind of lashing.

“And so I promised her. I fucking promised her that I would never flip out on her and then I went and did exactly. God Donna… I am so fucked up.”

Her slim hand rubbed up and down my shoulder, but I only wanted it to be Claudia’s. I wanted her right next to me so I could go through all of this with her and explain that it wasn’t just some fling. Not to me. Never to me. I never wanted it to be temporary, she was… she’s it for me.

The familiar prick crept into my eyes, my nose, and the tears fell. Donna has only seen me cry a handful of times, but never over a girl.

But Claudia wasn’t just some girl. She wasn’t just some hookup or some prize to be won. She was Claudia Martin. My Claudia. The quiet, shy first year associate I had worked so hard to get out of her shell. It wasn’t just for my pleasure, I truly didn’t want to see her fall behind just because she couldn’t ask me a question.

I saw that look in her eye; hunger and determination. Just like mine. I wanted it to shine brighter than her smile. Which was equally as devastating as her work in the courtroom. But I just wanted her to feel comfortable around me and I didn’t know what else to do. She was like a frightened baby deer around me. A constant nervous wreck at the drop of my name. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, I wanted nothing more than to be a safe space for her.

And maybe it’s just because I’m an idiot, but I’m realizing now that maybe I’m the one who needed the safe place. To just have someone to go to all the time. To share all of my proud moments and sneak little kisses and touches here and there.

I need Claudia. I need her.

Maybe I took it too far. Started at the wrong place. I should’ve offered to take her out to dinner instead of inviting her up for a drink in my office after her first case. I shouldn’t have done it so backwards, and it kills me that I’m only drawing that connection now. Why couldn’t I have thought of that earlier? She would’ve been so much better off without all the backwards, fucked up shit that I did.

But it was so nice. To finally have the one thing I have been craving for so long. She was so soft, and she was so sweet under my touch and I couldn’t help myself. As soon as I first kissed her it was end game. I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I wouldn’t ever kiss anyone again, not the way I kissed Claudia. More than lust. More than just a desire.

Her lips on mine made my head go blank. I had an awful habit of having work thoughts creep their way into my head every once in a while. But never with her. Even when we were only talking about work, I couldn’t think about it. I only thought about her. About how brilliant she was, about how soft and warm and perfect her lips were on mine. About how she always made me feel at ease and comforted. I doubt she could ever make anyone afraid. Except maybe an opposing counsel.

If I ever had to face her in court… I know I’d lose. For one, I’d give her anything she wanted simply because she could put me on my knees with a single look. And normally I’d hate to let a woman have that much control over me, but for Claudia… I’d let her do whatever she wanted. And Second, she knows what to do. All the time. She never misses a beat, and is always listening. Even when you think she isn’t.

I am so in love with Claudia. I felt my heart crack open. My voice more or less does the same.

“Harvey…” “I am in love with her, Donna. And I think I have been for a long time.”

She was quiet, and a throat cleared. Mike was there in front of me, his hands in his pockets, a look of worry on his face. “Is everything alright?”

I saw Donna shake her head out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she wanted to.

“I broke my promise to Claudia.” That was all I said. I heard his sharp inhale, and he came and sat in front of us. “God dammit Mike… I really messed up. I hurt the one person I couldn’t afford to and- and I don’t know what to do.”

“Go talk to her,” Mike said. “If you’re serious about how you feel about Claudia, then you need to go tell her that it was never… whatever you were doing before. She has anxiety, Harvey. She is going to let her brain tell her things about you that aren’t true. And you need to be there to soothe the fire before it does irreversible damage.” “Well, what do you and Rachel do when you get into an argument?”

“Harvey,” Donna said, “You aren’t Mike, and Claudia isn’t Rachel. Whatever they do might not work for you. You need to do what feels right for you and your relationship.” “I don’t know if you know this Donna, but I haven’t done something like this before. I don’t know how to talk to her. How to not make her anxious around me.” “We’ll help you,” Mike nods, as well as Donna. “We can come up with a plan but right now we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.” What could be more devastating than hurting Claudia?

Nothing. The answer was nothing.

____

CLAUDIA’S POV

I toed off my shoes, leaving them in the growing pile by my front door. I sighed at it. Why couldn’t they just put themselves away?

My splitting headache was doing nothing to help either.

Before I could even get a thought about what I could cook for dinner, the doorbell rang. I swear to god if Greg was here asking me about those flowers on my wreath again I was going to smack him with it, throw it over his head and shove him back inside his apartment and-

“Claudia, it’s Mike. I know you’re here, can we talk?”

Mike? What the hell is he doing here?

I seriously debated giving my best housekeeper impression and deadbolting the door. But it was Mike, and he hadn’t done anything to deserve a cold shoulder. Oh god, what if Harvey was with him and I was getting set up? Oh shit.

“No, Harvey isn’t with me. I promise.”

I stalked to the door, pulling it open and glaring up at Mike. “The last time someone made me a promise I regretted it.” He just pressed his lips in a flat line. “What are you doing here, Mike?”

“I’m here on behalf of Harvey.” “Why?” “Because he’s worried about you.” Why is he worried about me? He made it very clear he didn’t give a shit about me. “He’s beating himself up over what he did.”

“Good,” that I didn’t restrain.

“Claudia, he is really shaken up right now. He didn’t mean to do what he did. Now, I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know all the details about what he did but-” “He used me, Mike. Plain and simple.” All I got was a raised eyebrow. “He told me he wanted to ‘build my confidence’ which I was actually naive enough to believe, and it led to my worst fucking nightmare. But he just got what he wanted, to get his dick wet and then was done with me.”

“Claudia, trust me, it wasn’t like that. Harvey would never use you like that. He wouldn’t dream of it, trust me.”

“Are you sure because it seems like that’s exactly what he did. He saw that I was hard working, manipulated me into working with him, and treated me like shit when I was just trying to find a solution to his goddamn problem. I have more self respect than that. To let him continue to get away with that.”

“Can I ask what he did?”

My throat closed, and my palms began to sweat. I knew my annoying blush was there by the way his eyes dipped to my neck.

“After I won my first case with him, he invited me up to his office for some drinks. Said something along the lines of wanting to get to know each other so I didn’t have to feel so nervous. So I went up, and one thing led to another and… I don’t know why I let it happen. I knew it would end badly. I can’t believe I let myself believe that he would be into me beyond anything other than his pure primal satisfaction. But he seemed so genuine and so caring. Like he genuinely wanted to help me, and some part of me obviously thought it was a good idea because it happened again. And again. And again. God, I sound like the biggest loser right now.” “No you don’t,” Mike gave me a soft smile. “If it means anything, those feelings weren’t one sided. I know it doesn’t mean much of anything coming from me but… Harvey is really really fucking sorry about what he did.”

I was physically shaking. Through my trembles, I managed to speak, despite my thoughts trying to shut me down. “It hurt so bad, Mike. I really like Harvey, and I thought he might feel the same way. I guess I was wrong. So… so wrong.”

“No, Claudia you’re not wrong. Harvey is a grade A asshole but he wouldn’t-”

“If there is any chance of Harvey sorting this out, you need to tell him to grow a set and tell me himself,” I have no idea where this confidence came from. “He needs to stop getting other people to do his job for him. If he can’t recognize that now, of all times, then… then I don’t think he deserves me.”

Mike blinked long, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. “Harvey didn’t ask me to come here.” “What?” What?

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I knew Harvey wouldn’t come tonight. I’m not sure he’ll come at all but… Claudia, he talks about you like I’ve never seen him talk before. He gushes over you to the point where it’s annoying. And when I went to go and talk to him about what our next move was for this case… Claudia, he was crying. He was sobbing with Donna in his office and-”

Good, I wanted to say. But it kind of crushed my soul. Harvey was crying over what he did to me.

“I’ve never seen him cry before,” Mike looked hurt, too. “He regrets what he said. I know he does.”

“I believe you.”

“Good,” he nods. “I don’t want to do his job for him and I think-”

“But that doesn’t mean I will forgive him for what he said,” and with that, I closed the door, locking it for the night.

_____

Saturday and Sunday were so agonizing. The last thing I wanted to do was go into an office after a weekend of anything but rest and relaxation. I was tired and hadn’t showered and needed some restful sleep. Not to be woken up three times a night by dreams of Harvey touching me. Those certainly didn’t help.

My mind kept replaying our first time together. Specifically when he said 'Oh, Claudia, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?’ Innocent and naive… just like he said that night. Who was I to think that Harvey would take any interest in me besides the fact that I was good at being a lawyer? I wasn’t special in any way, I think he just knew that I was easy to manipulate into doing what he needed.

There was no way in hell I’d ever do another thing for Havrey, the all powerful jackass, Specter again.

As I set my stuff on my desk, Griffin walked up. Great. Just great, what did this prick want?

“Hey umm… Hi Claudia,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I just- I’m sorry. About all the things I’ve done to you. You didn’t deserve it and I want you to know that you have always been six-times the lawyer I wish I could be. I was jealous and took it out on you. And I shouldn’t have so… I’m sorry.”

Did I just hear that right? Did Griffin Harper just apologize to me? What the fuck is going on?

“Oh,” great way to start, idiot. “Thank you, Griffin.”

He just gave me a short nod before scurrying away. Well, that was… unexpected. Certainly I couldn’t ever let us be friends, but it was nice to know he wasn’t my mortal enemy any longer.

I went about my business, plagued with thoughts and reminders of Harvey ever which way I went. Louis and Jessica sent me an email with some files to print out so I scanned them, proofed them, and sent them to the printing room.

God it sent a shiver down my spine to be back in here after he… don’t finish the thought don’t finish the thought-

“Hey, Claudia,” Donna snapped me out of my heated thoughts. “How are you?” “You can cut the bullshit now, Donna.”

She sighed, “it was a genuine question.” “And that was a genuine answer. I’m not in the mood.”

“Claudia-” “No, Donna. What Harvey did wasn’t okay, and I’m not going to stand here and pretend like what he did didn't hurt. Because it did and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since. I don’t need you here to remind me.”

“Have you ever considered that Harvey may want to fix it?”

“No, Donna. I haven’t. And I’m not going to,” I stood my ground, squaring off my freshly printed papers before making more copies for Louis.

“What are you talking about?”

I scoffed. “Do you really think that I wouldn’t figure out what was going on?” “Again, what are you-” “I know Harvey just thinks that I am gullible and naive and easy to push around because he makes me nervous. And it’s true. Whenever I am near him I can’t keep myself composed and I’m sick and tired of being walked all over. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let myself see otherwise, but I’m even more upset that you didn’t come clean and tell me.” “Claudia, no one is walking over you. And I didn’t know about any of this until you told me on Friday. Harvey came to you because he knew can rely on you and your abilities to get things accomplished. He wanted the chance to work with you and get you to trust him a little. You have to know that by now,” Donna was standing right next to me, blocking my way out.

“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean that I believe it. Donna, I am not some corporate power house that is gonna bring firms to their knees. Not like he does.” “Nobody does what Harvey does.” “And that’s my point,” I grit my teeth. “Harvey was trying to make me into a mini version of him, just like he did with Mike and it’s not what I want to be. Donna, I am not assertive. I am not reckless and willing to go behind peoples backs to get the job done. I like rules and regulations and the law. They are there so people abide by them, and Harvey, more often than not, doesn’t do that. Yes, I look up to him as a role model because I admire his tenacity. But that doesn’t mean I like or agree with the things he does.”

“And you think that I like it when he goes and cuts someone’s legs out from under them?”

“I didn’t say that. But that means you know how I feel. I can’t- I don’t… I don’t want to be around someone like that. It makes me feel like I’m suffocating. And worst of all he gave me his word that he wouldn’t lash out and treat me like the other associates. I cant believe that I was stupid enough to believe that Harvey would-“

Both of us stopped as someone pushed through the door.

Harvey…

“Donna,” Harvey’s mouth was pressed in a flat line. He jerked his head over his shoulder. Donna gave me a sympathetic look and turned on her heel. Where was she going?

“Wait, Donna don’t-” I whispered.

“You’ll be fine,” she gave me a firm look, patting my shoulder as she walked around Harvey. Oh my god… she set me up.

My heart felt like it was ripping out of my fucking chest. The last thing I needed right now was to be in an enclosed space with Harvey.

He stared at me, fussing with the cufflink on his shirt. “Claudia.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Specter, but I have to get these to Louis.” I tried to go around him, like Donna had, but he just let his body fall against the wall. Blocking the way. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him and ask him to let me go.

“I want you to listen to me.” His voice was stern, in a demanding way, but not in a pissed off way.

“No, I am in a rush. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Come on, Claudia. Please just talk to me. I tried to call you but you didn’t answer and-.”

“I know, but I don’t want to talk to you. I want you to get out of my way so I can go do my job.”

“A little feisty today, aren’t we?” He pushed off his shoulder, taking a step towards me, I took one back. And another as he took one.

“No, I need to-” “Get those copies to Louis, I heard you,” Harvey acknowledged, but didn’t stop walking closer to me. My back eventually hit a copier and I almost fell over, but Harveys arms came to either side of my body, blocking me in. “And I don’t care.”

His face was inches from mine, chest inches from mine. I felt desperate for a breath. I forgot how to think, how to appear unphased. Everything he’s taught me has vanished from my mind. His eyes, much darker in this low over-head light, seemed to pierce my soul.

“What… What are you doing?” My voice was barely audible.

“I want you to know that I wouldn’t ever, ever, take advantage of you like that. I can’t even believe that you would think that. You think I enjoy making you a nervous wreck? Well, I don’t. It honestly makes me sick that even after all this time, you can’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“Then what is it? Because clearly I am not understanding,” his tone deepened, voice scratching in his throat.

I couldn’t- I didn’t know how to admit to him-

“I- I umm… Mr. Specter I can’t-”

“Stop calling me that, please, Claudia. Stop seeing me as your boss for one second and see me as literally anything else.”

I swallowed. Nothing went down. “Harvey… you are… you scare me more than anyone else I’ve ever met.” “Why?” his brows knit together. “What is it about me that makes you so afraid of me?”

“Everything.” I was shaking, visibly shaking in front of him. I looked anywhere but his eyes because I knew if I did I’d crack open and bleed my heart all over him.

His exhale was sharp enough to rustle the small hairs framing my face. “Claudia just-”

“I can’t be around you without feeling like I’m gonna drown in your presence.”

He was stunned silent for a beat too long. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Harvey I told you I didn’t want to-”

“Please, Claudia, tell me why you are so afraid of me.” He was begging. Begging for me to explain.

“Because I know that if I let myself think for one fucking second that you actually like working with me I’ll drop my guard around you. And I cannot afford to do that because there are things I keep locked inside that I would rather take to my grave than ever let someone know.”

“And what, you don’t think I’m equally as terrified to have these feelings for you?” “Not like mine.” Harvey gave me a very concerned glance. “There, you asked me to tell you. Please just let me go.”

“No, not until you tell me what is haunting you so much you’re willing to let it eat you alive rather than just let it out for once in your life. Look, I get that you’re a private person, and it’s hard for you to trust people, but that doesn’t mean you need to keep everything bottled inside and let it rot you from the inside out-”

“For the love of guard Harvey it’s you,” I shouted, far louder than I meant to. “It is you that is driving me insane. I cannot go a single moment of my day without thinking about you. I am terrified that you are going to see right through me and figure out that every thought that goes on inside my head has to do with you because for some reason, known only by some sick and twisted higher power, I want you to see me the way I see you. I want you to want me as much as I want you and-”

I stopped because I ran out of air. And then it hit me so hard I saw stars. What the fuck have I just done? My vision began to black out, my heart beating too fast for my lungs to keep up with.

Harvey had backed up a step, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

I was going to throw up, I was sure of it. I tried to speak, but my mind had melted and oozed out of my ears.

I ran, I left the copies on the floor; at some point I dropped them. And ran. His hand caught my elbow and I shrieked, whipping around just as Harvey slammed the door closed, pinning me, yet again.

“You do not get to drop that ball and run away,” his voice had a darkness I’ve never heard. “Claudia, in what way do you want me?”

Frozen. My mind was utterly dysfunctional and useless. I couldn’t think, I’m surprised I remembered how to breathe. God his eyes…

“Claudia, please answer me.” Now his voice was tender, filled with warmth. His fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You have to tell me in what way now or I’m… you have to tell me.”

“Why does it matter? I've already ruined everything I’ve had going for me.” I was meek with my words. Wimpy. Cowardice.

“Because it matters to me.”

“I want you, I want Harvey.”

“As in you want me, and not as your boss, Claudia?” He clarified. I had to shut my eyes, to turn my cheek to him so I wouldn’t see his reaction when I nodded in confirmation. “Fucking hell…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just… just let me go and I can hand Jessica my letter of resignation right now and you never have to see me again-”

“Are you out of your mind?” Harvey’s caramel eyes were wide. “Claudia, I don’t want you to go. Not for one fucking second. Why do you even have a letter drafted?”

“But I just-”

His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him when I spoke. God dammit… Harvey’s thump caressed my lip, pulling it down and watching it spring up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dipped it inside my mouth. I couldn’t help the soft noise that startled out of me.

“Claudia… you have no idea how much I have been praying to hear you say those words. I have been driving myself out of my mind with what to say. How to say it and I- I don’t know how to tell you everything I’ve been wanting to. For weeks now.

“I have been thinking of you nonstop. I keep making up excuses and things to come see you during the day. I want nothing more than to get the chance to treat you right, and I want you to want it too. I promised myself I wouldn’t make a move unless you made one first because I knew how petrified you were of me. I can’t- I won’t have you be afraid of me if we do this.

“But I fucked up. I got ahead of myself and I didn’t go in the direction that I should've. I should've just asked you out to dinner, been a true gentleman rather than selfish. You have no idea how long I have been practicing what to say. I just made everything so much worse. And I wish like hell I could take it all back and do it all again because I am so so so fucking sorry for breaking my promise.”

I stared up at him, at the tears spilling over his lashes, and the flush on his cheeks. His lip quivered. He looked so vulnerable. So open and honest. Every part of me wanted to take it to heart, but that voice in the back of my head was telling me not to believe it.

“Harvey I-”

“Please, Claudia,” Harvey knelt to the ground, sitting back on his heels. “I will do whatever you want to gain your trust back. Anything… anything. But I can’t let you walk away from me. I want a real chance to make you happy, to give you every part of me. I will do or say or answer whatever you want but please do not leave me. If you truly don’t want me, tell me, and we never have to talk again. I will make it like I was never here in the first place if you told me to, but I don't think you want that. And I don’t want it either.”

Harvey was on his knees. Begging me to open my heart up to him.

“Please don’t make me regret this, Harvey…”

He let out a breath, and a smile accompanied the tears that fell down his face. He reached for my hand, and I let him grab it. His fingers were warm and smooth in mine, familiar and comforting as he gently tugged me towards him.

“I'm so sorry, Claudia. I will regret nothing more than the words I said to you. But I want to fix it, I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself. But you are what makes me want to be better. I need to learn to control myself and take a page out of my own book to make that happen.”

Harvey rested his head on my stomach, and I let my fingers thread through his spiky hair.

“But I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore. I can’t- I won’t let you be afraid to ask me a question. I want to be there for you, work related or not, but I can’t do it if you don’t meet me halfway. I do remember you making me a promise back, to not see me as a monster.”

My hand stopped, and he looked up. I wanted to agree, but I was still upset, and he must’ve seen that.

“Okay, that was a bad time to bring that up.”

“Yup.”

Harvey huffed a laugh, standing back up. His smile was sweet, his finger gentle as it swept some hair away from my face.

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, Claudia Olivia Martin.”

“How did you find out my middle name?”

“Donna,” he smiled wider. I just rolled my eyes. “I don’t really know how to do any of this, so I asked her for some help. I knew I had to do it myself. I just didn’t really know where to start and she’s… well, she’s Donna.” “Yes, she is Donna,” I smiled up at him. “But it’s gonna take me more than that to convince me.”

“Oh I have like seven other things lined up and ready to go. If you'd like to hear them. First, you are the most stunning, breathtaking, gorgeous woman I have ever met in my life. Second, I admire every part of you. All your good habits, your bad, your anxious thoughts and brave approach to life. Because they all make you you. Three, I am the biggest fucking idiot. For starting all of this off wrong, for yelling at you. For leading you to believe that I just wanted to get in your pants.”

“You’re also an asshole. A bit of a coward and a bitch. Did I say that you were an asshole?”

“Okay okay,” he placed his hands on my hips and I let him, doing nothing to hide the giggle that bubbled out. “Yes, I am all of those things. And, for the record, I did want to get in your pants, just not that way.”

“Of course you did, who could resist all of this?” My heart sped up when he looked at me over, a huge grin spreading his cheeks wide and bright.

“Looks like you’ve gained a little confidence, huh?”

“Well, I did have a not so awful teacher. That was before he betrayed me.” “Are you gonna stop rubbing salt into the wound?”

I faked a ponder, “Nope.”

“Claudia,” he pressed a tentative kiss to my cheek, then gauged my response before placing one on the other. “Olivia,” another kiss. “Martin.” He kissed my forehead, then the tip of my nose. “I will never be able to take back what I said, but I hope you find it in your heart to give me a second chance. Even good people are great at making bad decisions. I know I can be a better man, and I know you know that too. Just one,” a kiss to my left cheek, “More,” right cheek, “Chance.”

His lips hovered over mine, waiting for permission before he pressed them into mine. My heart was beating so fast. So strong, all because of him. All for him.

My eyes met his, “Okay, Harvey.”

Those devastating eyes ignited. His smile grew so wide I got lost in it with my own. I was pressed flat to him, my hands on his shoulders, his hands on my lower back. My ears were buzzing with my pulse and I hoped he felt how fast it was. Who knew Harvey had such a way with words? I wondered how long he practiced all of this in the mirror. Who knows, maybe he was secretly a hopeless romantic and-

“Claudia,” Harvey snapped me out of my daydream.

“Hmm?” “Please tell me I can kiss you.”

Oh. Right.

“And what if I say no?”

“Then I won’t.”

“And if I say yes?” “I’ll make sure it is the best damn kiss you’ve ever and will ever have.”

Sounds pretty good to me. I pressed up on my toes, arms wrapping around his neck, and finally let our lips say hello. It had been too long, It felt so right, so perfect. And I realized it felt like all the other times we’ve kissed; I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I wanted to kiss Harvey. Harvey goddamn Specter.

I should find out what his middle name is from Donna to surprise him.

“Come over tonight,” he blurted out.

“What?” “Come over, let me cook something for you. We can make it our first date. A real date. Let me start this off on the right foot. Unless tonight is too soon and you need more time to heal and process or-”

“Just stop talking,” I literally put my fingers over his mouth. “I’d love to come over for dinner, Harvey.”

If I hadn’t been in his arms I’m sure he’d jump up and down out of excitement. He kissed me again, and again, and again. The slight stubble on his chin tickled my neck enough for me to tuck down into my shoulders when he kissed below my ear.

“Hey, Claudia, I just want to make sure- oh. Well, this seems to be going well,” Donna had a proud smile on her face, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is,” Harvey beamed down, never taking his eyes off of me.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

“How much of this was your idea?” I asked.

“I suggested he get a horse and carriage to surprise you on your way out but he knew you wouldn’t want a grand gesture,” She said. “So I think that should say it well enough as to who came up with all the ideas.” When I looked back at him, he had a flush to his cheeks, and hid his grin.

“Wow, Harvey, I’m impressed.” “Well,” he shrugged. “I don’t know… I wanted it to be authentic and special. Something that you would take to heart and genuinely appreciate. So it’s the best I could come up with over the weekend because if I didn’t do it soon I was going to explode.”

“Seriously, Claudia. This idiot wouldn’t leave my house for two days. I had to kick him out so he could get a shower and change. Did you even sleep?” “You haven’t slept?” He shook his head. “Harvey, what- okay. We need to do our dinner another day because if you try to cook you might set your house on fire and that would-” “Nope, too bad. I’m fine, really Claudia. I can handle making dinner. I’ll leave early and take a nap if that would make you feel better.” “Yes, it would,” I sighed out, looking back at Donna who had a look that meant trouble. “What?” “You guys are adorable.”

I blushed. “Oh, wait! Before you go, what’s Harvey’s middle name? I mean, he went to you for mine so it’s only fair…”

“Don’t you dare,” Harvey pointed at Donna who all but melted the Wicked Witch of the West with her smirk.

“Reginald.”

“Reginald?” I repeated. “Seriously?”

“It’s a family name, alright?” He defended. “Now, if you two will excuse me I have a very important dinner to plan for an even more important girl. Donna, can you-” “Already cleared your schedule.”

“Remind me to give you a raise.” “Oh I’ve already written a bonus check, it just needs your signature.” “I’m surprised you didn’t forge it,” I snickered.

“I would’ve but having Harvey do it makes it that much more satisfying.”

Harvey just shook his head, but smiled at us both. “I’ll see you tonight, is seven good?” “Sounds perfect,” I nodded, relishing in his warmth as he pressed one more kiss to the top of my head before leaving.

“So,” Donna swayed on her feet. “I take it that things went well?” “Yeah, yeah it did. I was surprised, today has been so weird. Even Griffin apologized to me.” “Griffin? Really?” “Yeah,” I followed in step behind her towards the bullpen. “He genuinely apologized to me. It was so unexpected. Now this… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreading this happening. But it turned out way better than I expected so I can’t complain. I need to stop expecting the worst case scenario all the time and believe that I can handle anything that comes at me.”

“Now that sounds like true growth and confidence,” Donna slung her arm over my shoulder. “And definitely something Harvey couldn’t have taught you.” “No, he didn’t. That was all on my own.”

___

As I packed up to head home for the day, my stomach was on fire with nerves about tonight. Not nerves, excitement.

“Hey, Claudia,” Griffin caught up to me right before the elevator closed. “Do you want to join us for drinks tonight?”

I just smirked. “Sorry, Griffin. I can’t, I have a date with Harvey Specter.” And I let the door shut before he could get on.

____

This building. For fucks sake his front door cost more than what I make in a year, probably. The door man had given me a bit of a side eye when I asked to be let up to Harvey. Well, here I was.

The bottle of wine in my hand wasn’t getting any colder as I paced outside of his apartment. Was I making this a bigger deal than it needed it to be? Most definitely.

I knocked.

Harvey opened it a few moments later, a smug look on his face. “I was wondering how long you were going to just stand there.”

God dammit. The heat rose up my neck and I looked away. “Just shut up and take the wine.”

He chuckled, plucking it from my grasp before stepping aside to let me in. I gazed up and into his hallway, following it down to the kitchen. Woah… holy windows. The already set sun lit up the sky with blues and purples, making all of this feel very cinematic.

“You didn’t need to bring this, Claudia,” Harvey smiled nonetheless.

“I just- I don’t know, isn't that what people do when they’re invited over?”

“Why are you still so nervous?”

Right to it, I guess. “What makes you say that?” “Well,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing all black. He looked… too good for his own good. Or mine for that matter of fact. “For starters, you’ve clearly been running your fingers through your hair. Second, I’ve watched you fiddle with that string on your sleeve at least four times now.”

My fingers ceased their motion. I had been toying with it. “I like to keep my hands busy.”

“I call it a nervous habit.”

“Did you invite me here for dinner or just to pick on me for being anxious?”

“You have no reason to be anxious here,” he crept closer, taking my hand in his. Harvey gently kissed the back of my fingers. “There is no one here to watch, no prying eyes to hide from. It’s just me, Claudia.”

“And that is precisely what makes me nervous,” I did let a laugh bubble up. “But, you’re right. I guess there is no reason to be so… terrified.”

“Good,” he smiled, placing his hands on my hips. I let mine fall around his shoulders. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” I turned to look behind me, a few pots and a pan of vegetables on the stove. Harvey’s hands still lingered on my sides as I peered over to look inside.

“I didn’t know the great Harvey Specter could cook,” I jabbed, making him roll his eyes playfully. “It looks lovely, thank you.”

“Told you, there’s more to the name than the title it comes with.”

From the table, I watched him plate the stir fry dish and bring it over. I was starving, and I made sure to eat my lunch a little later so I wouldn’t be ravenous by the time this dinner rolled around. I wasted no time taking a forkful and practically inhaling it.

“I’ll take that as a good sign?”

I nodded, “It’s amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?” “Here and there. My brother owns a bar and restaurant back home, we used to like to cook together all the time.” “I didn’t know you had a brother,” I tilted my head. “That’s amazing, though. Glad you put those skills to good use.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

I hummed, “Yeah I have two brothers. I’m the baby of the family.”

“Am I going to have to win their trust one day?”

My laugh echoed through the spacious dining room, “No, they’re pretty cool. Vince, my oldest brother, is married, has two kids who are in college. My other brother, Caleb, is the one you’ve gotta watch out for. He’s my twin and very vocal about the men in my life, especially when he doesn’t think they’re good enough for me.”

“I see,” Harvey gave me a look I knew all too well.

“Yeah, he can be a pain in my ass sometimes. But I love him, he always stood up for me when I was too afraid. Whether someone was picking on me in school or tried to get one up on me at a bar, he was always there. He’s just protective of me, they both are, but Caleb… he’s always had my back.” “It’s good to have those types of people on your side,” Harvey’s smile was so bright.

For about an hour we ate and had dessert. I don’t know how, he probably asked Donna, but he had my absolute favorite chocolate cake. Coated in a thick butter cream, it practically melted in my mouth. I wasn’t shy about telling him how delicious it was.

“I could marry this cake,” I knew I was being dramatic, but I didn’t care. “If I could take this cake, and mold it in the shape of a man, I would.”

Harvey grinned, looking from the cake on his plate, back up to me as I spooned another mouthful. He dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped it across his cheek. I blushed, so hard, and he just laughed and laughed.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” I had to put my face in my hands.

“I do, actually. Why don’t you come over here and clean it off for me,” Harvey spoke dangerous words. I raised my eyebrow in question, but he merely scooted his chair back in response, palms turned upward.

Now or never, I thought.

I stood, my bare feet padding quietly to Harvey. This is where I had confidence. Could use his own game against him. Because up until this point, all Harvey knows about me is that I am a nervous wreck in front of him.

The cards have no longer been dealt in his favor.

I swung my leg over his, perching on his thigh. I took my thumb and ran it across his face, collecting the decorative icing off his cheek, licking my thumb clean. His eyes tracked my movements, especially when I stuck out my tongue and showed him the mess.

His throat bobbed, and his eyes darkened.

“Where did that shy, blushing Claudia go?” Harvey’s voice sent a chill down my spine.

“Away, for now,” I smirked. “There are plenty of versions of Claudia you haven’t met before.”

“And who exactly is this version?” He asked.

“That depends,” I huffed. “Are you going to let me have what I want or are you going to make me earn it?”

Harvey’s hands crept up my thighs, cupping my ass gently. “You’re gonna let me choose?”

“You better choose carefully.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” I said. “You can either let me take what I want, or try to take what you want. But I’ll let it be known, that isn’t possible. You won’t be able to resist me long enough to uphold that promise.”

“Oh, you think I’m that easy?” Harvey countered, tightening his hold on my body. I let out a whine, enticing him into my game further.

“I don’t know, Harvey.” I ran my hand down his chest, grinding back and forth on his thigh. I leaned close to his ear, “I can be your every fantasy or your worst nightmare.”

I pulled away from his body, taking a few steps back and towards another hallway. I assumed that’s where his bedroom was, and judging by the screeching of the chair against the floor, I was heading in the right direction.

The first door I pushed open was, thankfully, the right room. His clothes were hung up neatly in the closet on the opposite side of the room, the city below shining onto the walls. Harvey shut the door quickly, turning on a lamp beside his bed.

Harvey grinned like the devil and crushed his mouth to mine. I didn’t waste any time letting his tongue tangle with mine. Harvey kissed like the god he was, like a true emperor. He tasted like pure sin, like the cake we were just sharing.

My hands went to the buttons on his shirt, fitting them through the tiny holes and pushing it off his shoulders.

“Mmm wait, sweetheart,” Harvey broke our lips apart. “I don’t wanna do it this way tonight. Let me take care of you. Please.”

Well, when he sounded like that, who was I to resist him? I let him lay me down, his body between my legs as he placed the most tender kiss on my lips. He moved down my chest, slowly lifting my shirt and placing his mark on my stomach. Up my chest, and my neck.

“You are so beautiful, Claudia. And I can’t believe I get to have all of you to myself. I can’t wait to make you feel so good.”

I sighed out, letting my eyes close as he explored my body. He was forward with his choices, but he wasn’t ever harsh. He was so soft. So loving and so caring. No one had ever made me feel equally nervous or excited as Harvey did. But now… I wasn’t afraid of him. I don’t think I could ever again.

“Is it okay if I take these off?” “I wasn’t sure you knew how to ask for permission,” I giggled. He just scowled, but I nodded. “Of course, Harvey. Do whatever you want.” “Don’t-” he swallowed. “Don’t say things like that when I am trying to be sweet and nice to you.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I like it when you manhandle me,” I smiled up to the ceiling before looking at him between my legs. “Sorry, carry on.”

He laid a not so gentle tap to the inside of my thigh before removing my skirt. The chill of the air spread goosebumps across my skin, even more when he placed kisses from my ankle to my hips bone.

“God I could spend all day between your legs. They’re so perfect,” he praised, spreading them wide so he could fit his torso between them. “You’re so fucking hot, Claudia.” I flushed, beet red, and turned away from him. But his fingers brought me right back.

“You don’t get to be shy now, sweetheart. Not tonight, let me see all of you.”

“I’m all yours Harvey.” Our eyes locked, and the sparks flew. His lips were on mine, hurried, but not starving. It was intense and passionate and everything I could’ve asked it to be. He lifted my shirt over my head and slipped off my bra from behind. Thankfully his chest was warm against mine.

From one second to the next, Harvey swooped me on top of him and rolled, tugging the sheet with him. When they were freed, he laid me back down and put them over his body.

“Oh, guess I should get these off,” he grinned, pushing his jeans down his thighs, his briefs going with them. Man… what a sight to behold. Harvey wasn’t shredded, but it was clear his boxing habits kept him in good shape.

There was something about him that just made me want to crumble and fold.

Harvey’s lips were hot as they moved all over me, nipping and biting and leaving tiny marks here and there. Before he could lose all his resolve, he reached over to his bedside table and plucked a foil packet from a little jar. Classy.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” He smoothed down my hair.

“Yes, Harvey. I’d be better if…” I locked my legs around his middle, pulling him to me. “You just got on with it.” “Such an impatient little thing,” his grin gave away his facade.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not craving this as much as I am.” “You’re right,” he smirked, lining up and pushing all the way in. a low groan escaped his flushed lips. “But I know you can’t get enough of this.”

I breathed heavily, clinging to him. His hips stirred, slowly pulling back, and sinking all the way in. Harvey rested his head on my shoulder, tongue making patterns on my ignited skin. I tugged at his hair, lips working on their own to find all his sweet spots.

I raked my nails up his back, not missing when his hips slowed and he moaned. So I did it again. His thumb found its way between my legs and circled around where I wanted it most. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to take care of me.

Harvey took his time, making sure that I was feeling good and got what I wanted. This was so different from the feverish moments we’ve had in the office. But it was somehow way better. Well, it could use one thing.

As he laced our fingers together, I moved our hands up. He stopped kissing me for a moment to give me a puzzled look. But I slipped his grip from mine and placed his hand on my throat.

“I don’t need you to go all ‘sir’ on me tonight, but just give me this. Please.” I did the best I could with my eyes to lure him in, and it worked. It tightened, but it was never tight. It was just there, a reminder of the part of him I was going to get to see whenever I wanted.

He started to let his control slip, and I knew it was hard for him to be so gentle. But I appreciated it so much. I let some of my control slip as well, just because I wanted to rile him up. His breath quickened, and so did his hips. His thumb was relentless between my legs and I could feel my high approaching.

“Come on, sweetheart, let go. Make yourself feel so good for me.” There it was, the Harvey that kept me up at night. That has plagued my dreams for the past few days.

I met his hips with mine, and my release crashed over me when I wasn’t expecting it. I shook in his arms as he continued to move, chasing his own time.

“Fuck, Harvey,” I gasped. “Let go for me, you did such a good job making me feel good.”

He cursed, tucking his head down momentarily before crushing his mouth to mine, not shy about how I was making him feel. His body went rigid, and the praise streamed out of his mouth.

“Fuck fuck Claudia… god you feel so good. You are so perfect for me. So soft and warm.”

My lips would surely be bruised tomorrow morning, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was being here with Harvey. About carrying him through the aftershocks of his release. I rubbed at his back, kissed his neck and cheeks. When he lifted his head, he had this dreamy look on his face.

“You look so hot,” he ran his thumb across my cheek, bringing me in for another kiss. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

“I’m glad I decided to do it. I can’t decide which Harvey I like more. This one or the one who calls me sweetheart.”

“Did I not call you sweetheart tonight?” “You did, but not the way you do when I call you ‘sir’.”

“Ahh, I see,” he smirked. “As much as I would like to think that I could flip a switch right now, I don’t want to spoil this moment with you.”

“If you don’t want to spoil it, then you should take us into the shower.”

And then I was in the shower. Hot water streaming between us from the rain shower head. His hands were soft as he kneaded my body; they particularly felt nice on my ass, especially when he added his lips to the mix.

“You are so amazing, Claudia. I cannot stress that enough.” “You’re doing an amazing job,” I smiled, kissing him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I know,” he grinned, smacking my ass before lathering up his hands and running them through my hair. It was hard to not fall asleep standing up. “Sweetheart, if you keep making those noises it is going to be very very hard to not take you right here.”

My eyes flew open, his very apparent arousal pressing into my backside. Well, alright then. Go Claudia, you sexy son of a bitch!

“And who’s to say that I wouldn’t want that?” “I am trying to hold back, you know. I wanted tonight to be different, to be special. I didn’t want it to be heated and rough and-”

“Harvey,” I turned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I know.” “I wanted to ‘make love’ or whatever they call it in those cheesy romance books you read.”

I laughed out loud, picturing Harvey curled up on the couch with a book in his hand, a fire in the fireplace. “Nobody says ‘making love’ any more, babe.” “Babe?” “Yeah, babe. I figured you wouldn’t like sugar, or honey bun, or baby for that matter.”

“Don’t make me sound older than I am, please. For fucks sake I passed the Bar when you were in highschool.”

“It doesn’t bother me all that much anymore,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I thought it would, but it doesn’t really make a difference to me.”

“Good, I’m glad it doesn’t freak you out,” he smiled. “And, for the record, I hope it doesn’t freak your folks out.”

“It won’t.”

He lifted up a brow, “How could you know?” “Because I already told them about you.” I felt him go tight. “Relax. They knew who you were already and they couldn’t have been more excited that I found a caring, respectful, well respected man.”

He let out a sigh, “and your brothers?” “They don’t know yet, but don’t worry about them, either. It will be okay.”

“When did you become the consoling one? It’s weird.” “I know, right?” I giggled. When I looked into his eyes, there was a fondness to his gaze. He was looking at my body, but not in a way he had before. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Harvey shrugged, “I just love you so much, Claudia. And I am so proud of how far you’ve come in just these first couple of months.”

My heart hitched in my chest, then beat so wildly I wasn’t entirely sure it didn’t burst through my skin and land in his hands. I froze. Mike had been right. Harvey wasn’t just some cock, high strung New York attorney that couldn’t decipher his own feelings. He seemed incredibly in tune with his emotions and that couldn’t be more attractive.

I just kissed him. I didn’t know what else to do other than kiss him. He had to take a step back to support our combined weight. Harvey’s arms were strong around my waist, his lips reassuring and just as firm as his grip.

“I love you too, Harvey. So fucking much.”

____

The comforters pulled tight, Harvey's body pressed behind mine… I couldn’t think of a more relaxing way to end the night. Especially after I slipped to my knees in the shower and showed him just how much I loved him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about having you in my arms one night. All night long.”

I hummed, scooting back so his chest met my back, his legs molding with mine. “I may have fantasized about it once or twice as well.” “Have you now?” “Again, there are several versions of Claudia you haven’t met before.” “And I look forward to coaxing every single one of them out with my mouth… my tongue… my hands… my-”

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, letting my eyes lull shut. “We can do it all again tomorrow. On the table, on the counter, on the couch-” “You’re not helping the situation here, you know,” he tugged at my half-dried hair. “Don’t get me started, sweetheart. I just might not let you get any sleep tonight.”

I clenched my thighs together. This was going to be such a sweet, tortuous game to play. And I got to play it every day. Every night, if I wanted. He wouldn’t be able to resist me. I had a secret weapon.

“Whatever you say, sir.”

His hand was wrapped around my throat, forcing my head to turn back to look at him. He clicked his tongue, eyes more awake than they had been a few minutes ago. “Oh sweet, innocent little Claudia. I guess you haven’t learned your lesson yet. It’s okay, I’d be happy to give you more instruction. I think I recall saying that eventually I would break you down over and over again until all you could remember was my name and how to breathe. Well, sweetheart. What do you think? Because I think you can still form coherent thoughts. I think it’s time we change that, don’t you?” I nodded, “Yes.”

His grip tightened and tightened and tightened. “Yes what?”

I smirked, climbing into his lap and taking him into my hand. “Yes, sir.”

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