#just let these shows fuckin end please lol
Note
I don’t even watch Simpsons anymore. The last time I saw an episode, it was because the entire episode was a parody of The Smiths and Morrissey.
I haven't watched it as it aired and the short with Eilish is the only thing I watched (not on Disney+ obviously lol, I ain't paying for that shit. The aspect ratio being all fucked and not putting up episodes like The Cartridge Family or Homer Badman? Hell no lmao)
'member when The Simpsons made fun of celebrities instead of dedicating episodes to sucking off their egos? 'member when they made an entire episode of President Bush being a douche after he openly said he hated the show, and how they made fun of Bill Clinton before it was cool? 'member when it was actually criticizing and satirizing shit while also just being a well written show?
Pepperidge Farm remembers!
#.sillyshit#sloot bitches about things#like family guy also used to be alright until it disappeared up its own ass about 5 seasons in#just let these shows fuckin end please lol
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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.”
-
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tbc. :)
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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!
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Crying bc that could never be me bc I never really had close guy friends when I was young please write a one shot or something of childhood friends y/n and Katsuki of Katsuki being immune to cooties and bringing these tendencies to UA together 😭
eeeee i was secretly hoping someone would ask me to talk about this more tehhehehe here you go ! I didn’t rlly get what you meant with him carrying the cootie thing to high school so i wrote this around your ask a lil, hope you don't mind ! i tried honoring your request as best i can, hope you enjoy !
fem reader, polar opposite’s trope except not POLAR opposite’s cus yn is a little shit on the low, mitsuki favoritism lol, mitsuki and katsuki arguing n bein sassy, katsuki gets embarrassed, mitsuki is mischievous, katsuki calling his mother old, yn calls mitsuki ‘miss’, pure fluff honestly, say it with me CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE WOHOOOO, mentions of making out n kissing, established relationship, cooties lol, lemme know if i missed sum else <3 !!
katsuki wants to do one of three things right now : dissapear, sink into the floor or die—and the more he hears his old hag babbling on and on to you with a familiar photo album in her lap, the more he's starting to find the all three options tempting.
" oh look, this was at you guys' kindergarten graduation ! you were both soooo small, do you remember that ?! "
he hears his mom gush from the other bigger living room couch she's sitting on with you. it's been 15 minutes since you had come over to his house and the plan was for you guys to hang out, watch a movie and get a make out session in before you leave or preferably have you sleep over.
that was the plan, until his old hag came and fucked it up.
15 minutes since she'd dragged you over to the couch and talked your ear off about whatever the fuck moms talk about and you, being the sweetheart that you are, listened patiently the whole time, chatting and giggling out jokes easily. katsuki really, really doesn't know how you do it but he sure as hell respects you for it.
you'd always insisted on being polite with his mom, something about staying in her good graces after you guys had started dating. katsuki thinks that's extremely stupid because his mom has loved you since that day in elementary school when he'd dragged you over to her, his little hand gripping yours tightly and proudly exclaiming you were the one he was gonna marry. you were sweeter and calmer than he was by far and she was immediatly enamoured with you. katsuki's damn near sure she loves you more than she loves him. that in itself isn't the problem. the problem was that she's been hogging you ever since you walked in the door.
usually, katsuki's fast enough to drag you up to his room before she can get her claws in you, but he wasn't fast enough today and that's how he ended up in his current predicament.
" and this one when you came over for christmas—oh, katsuki begged me to let you stay over, you know ? you cannot believe how loud he can get when he doesn't get his way, started rolling around on the floor n' everything ! "
katsuki feels his ears redden the more he listens to this conversation and he wishes so bad for you guys to just fucking go. he could go to his room and avoid this entire conversation in theory, but he'd rather avoid his mom telling you some other embarrassing stories that you absolutely do not need to know about, so he concedes and tries his best to drown the conversation out, scrolling on his phone.
"ou, i have an adorable picture of katsuki in the bath let me find—"
" DON'T FUCKIN’ SHOW HER THAT, HAG ?! " katsuki shrieks, startling you, his mom looks surprised for no more than a milisecond before shooting him a nasty glare unphased by her son's outburst. "what's got you pipin' up now, brat ?" she asks unimpressed.
katsuki practically zooms over and snatches the album away from his mother's grip, shooting her a glare identical to her own. " i'm gonna burn this in your sleep one of these days, i swear. " he grumbles, trudging off to put the album back on one of the shelves of his living room and ignoring his mom wishing him good luck with that. katsuki feels like he's lost a battle when he hears you giggle quietly when he turns away, no doubt his mother had said something about how he was embarrassed to have you see his baby pictures. he vows to get revenge and thinks the best way to start is by throwing this cursed collection of pictures on an open fire. he decides to just put it back on the shelf for now.
“ what a spoilsport, am i right ?” mitsuki nudges you with her shoulder and you giggle at what katsuki personally finds a horrible joke. to each their own though, or whatever.
katsuki scoffs to himself. he makes his way back to the couch and stands in front of you both, arms crossed.
“you done hoggin’ my girlfriend now or are you gonna keep yappin’ some more ?” mitsuki scoffs at her son’s words, wrapping her arms around your frame and pulling you against her tightly when she sees katsuki’s hand creeping towards you, assuming he'd try to pull you away.
“ i’m sure you can be patient for a little longer, as hard as i know it is for you.” you hear katsuki scoff out an insult under his breath, mitsuki pays it no mind. “besides, yn has been enjoyin’ our conversation so far, haven’t ya sweetie ?” she asks. you, again, being the sweet thing that you are, happily nod with a smile. mitsuki looks up at her son with a smug look, her expression screams “see ?”.
“ she’s only agreein’ cus yer fuckin’ holdin’ her hostage.” katsuki grumbles. he feels his patience dwindling at a pace that should definitely be alarming. he looks at you and feels his heart flutter when you offer him an apologetic smile. his patience returns the slightest bit.
“hostage ? don’t be ridiculous katsuki—” then it’s as if a lightbulb goes off, katsuki can practically see it gleaming above her head and he really doesn’t like it.
“he’s always been like that y’know ? all clingy—you remember that right ?!”the excitement in her voice becomes more prominent when she sees you nod enthusiastically. katsuki has a strange, foreboding feeling about this.
“ i remember he’d constantly want you around holdin’ his hand everywhere. one time—" she pauses as she bursts into giggles that, to katsuki, sound more like witch cackles than anything.
“one time you refused to hold his hand because you got scared he’d get cooties” she chuckles. katsuki feels his stomach drop.
“but he said that wouldn’t happen because he was too strong to get them !”
fuck patience.
katsuki grabs you and stalks off so fast you feel like you’re floating a little bit. he quickly yells out a “we’re goin’ to my room, don’t fuckin’ bother us !” then he’s quickly running up the stairs with you in tow. it’s only when you get to the hallway that leads to his bedroom that he looks back at you. he rolls his eyes when he sees you clearly fighting back a laugh.
“be quiet.”
“i didn’t even say anything yet !” you defend, giggling at the same time. katsuki fights back a smile at the sound.
“yeah, but you were going to and i don’t wanna hear it.” he bites. he squeezes your hand afterwards, telling you it was a joke in his own way. in actuality, katsuki could listen to you talk for hours and hours, days on end without getting bored. you’re being a brat right now though, so he won’t tell you that.
you smile at his back as katsuki drags you along muttering to himself about how he “never should’ve left you with that old witch for so long.”
“i remember that, y’know ? the cootie thing.” you admit jokingly. walking up a little faster you catch up to him and walk side by side. he glances at you from the corner of his eye then looks away and scoffs “of course you do.” he groans.
“ you’re mom didn’t mean to embarrass you, i’m sure.” you try to console him despite still snickering at the memory of his face going beet red after his mom had ‘exposed’ him. “and it was nice to see those pictures. it felt all...nostalgic.” you reminisce about the summer days you’d spent over the years with your katsuki with a smile. remembering the days of adventures and melting ice cream. of waterparks and bandaged covered knees.
katsuki doesn’t make a sound next to you and you think he’s just ignoring you until he speaks again, the scowl on his face threatens to melt away. “that old bat had it out for me the entire time. she’s fuckin’ evil incarnate, just doesn’t show it to you.” he feels prideful when he hears you laugh “that’s mean !” you scold through giggles, but his smirk says he’s seen through you. he comes to a stop and backs you up until your back is against the wall.
“yer laughin’ though. not as much of an angel as you’re pretending to be, are ya ?” he teases, leaning in closer to you until your noses brush. you try to fight back the smile that pulls at your mouth but it doesn’t work and after a moment you’re giggling again. katsuki swears every time you laugh an angel gets its wings. he steals a sloppy kiss to hear the sound again.
your hands play with the hem of his plain black shirt. he’s handsome, too handsome. his outfit consisted of a plain black t-shirt and some sweatpants yet he still looks like a model and it makes you want to kiss him silly, call it revenge for looking so good.
“ i’m not pretending to be anything, definitely not an angel.” you chuckle “unlike you, i’m just being nice.” you stick your tongue at him and he chuckles. rolling his eyes, he scoffs. his warm hands reflexively start running up and down your waist.
“yeah well, that’s cus unlike me your ass gets to go home. you’d be less nice if you were stuck in here like i am.” you playfully roll your eyes at his dramatics
“i doubt that. besides, miss mitsuki likes me !”
“she’ll get mad at you for callin’ her miss again.” you gasp, quickly clasping your hand over your mouth as if his mom would hear you from here. katsuki’s snort makes you snort as well.
“c’mon” he urges after a minute, grabbing at your hand and tugging at it “we’re goin’ to my room.” he mumbles out a “fuckin’ finally” and you laugh.
then you get an idea.
you suddenly rip your hand from his and katsuki immediately stops dead in his tracks to stare back at you like you had just insulted him. you let out a tiny snort at his expression.
“the hell are you doin’ ?”
you clasp your hands behind your back and sigh, even looking down at the floor sadly for extra dramatic effect “we can’t risk it, suki.”
“hah ?” katsuki fully turns to you, slowly starting to grow worried at your sudden shift in attitude. “what’re you talking about ?”
“i mean..if we hold hands..” you slowly look up at him, revealing your shit eating grin “you might get cooties..”
katsuki looks at you for about 15 seconds with an incredulous look on his face and you burst out laughing. he’s definitely one of the most expressive people you’d ever met, so seeing what kind of faces he’ll makes next is always fun.
he walks over, grabs your hand and squeezes hard, as punishment you assume. you yelp through giggles.
you hear him let out a disappointment sigh when he turns his back to you and drags you to his room again. you happily follow along behind him like you’d done for years now.
"i really shouldn't have left you with that old hag for so long." he mutters bitterly. you let out a snort and smile to yourself, content that your plan to mess with your boyfriend ended up being succesful. you perk up when he suddenly huffs out a laugh.
" and anyways, i won't be gettin' any cooties. m'too cool for 'em." you laugh out loud and the way he grips your hand a little tighter tells you you don't need to see his face to know he's proud of that.
"what if i have them ?" you challenge in between snickers.
katsuki scoffs dissaprovingly, you can basically see him rolling his eyes despite his back being to you.
"you don't. only losers get cooties. and as far as i know, you're not a loser." he's a little embarrassed because this is reminding him too much of when you were kids and it makes him cringe. when he'd come up with excuses like him being 'too strong' or 'too cool' to get cooties because he just couldn't admit he simply wanted you close. "yer anythin' but." you hear him mumble.
you walk up next to him with a somewhat shy smile "i'm flattered you think of me that way." you confess.
"don't let it get to your head." katsuki quips. you respond by sticking your tongue at him again. he tries to ignore the loud thumping of his heart but it's not going too smoothly for him. his cheeks slowly redden and he looks away from you again, not before shooting you an eyeroll.
"hope you know you owe me extra cuddle time for wastin' it talkin' to my ma." katsuki adds, changing the subject. you smile up at him in response and offer him a sweet 'mhm !'
his mom may have embarrassed the shit out of him, but he figures it wasn't all bad. he's still deadset on destroying that photo album before she ends up showing you that picture of him in the bath, though. he'll think about a plan later but right now he plans to enjoy his cuddle time with you, cootie free.
#thx for the request anon was supa fun to write !!#super fun fact i had to rewrite that last part like 5 times cuz tumblr hates me apparently#super duper fun time !!!!!!#anyways i love him childhood frnds to lvrs katsu 4eva !#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you#bakugou drabble#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff
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ιт’ѕ тσσ вιg! ♡¸.•*
Pairing: Geto Suguru x fem! Reader
Warnings: oral (m!receiving), cum swallowing, nicknames (good girl, darling, baby, princess), overstimulation if your squint really hard, belly bulge, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, a lil bit of cussing, geto is sadistic lol, smut with fluffy ending, not really proofread
Geto would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on as you sat pretty beneath him, your mind beyond fucked out as you gagged on his cock.
Even if it was just a quick suck because he had a big meeting coming up soon, or if it was a reward for you waiting so long for him to get home, he loves every second of it. The way your warm mouth and cunt fit snug and perfect around his member, almost as if you were made for him.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving his cock impossibly deeper into your mouth as you gripped his pants, drool seeping down the sides of your mouth as you fought for air. A small whimper came from your mouth, the vibrations enough to send him over the edge as he threw his head back, emptying his load down your throat with a long groan.
The strong grip in your hair was released as you gasped for air, a string of spit connecting your lips to his red tip as you coughed. His dark eyes fluttered open as he looked down at you, a grin forming on his lips as he leaned over in the chair.
“Did you swallow it all, darl’?” he asks, brushing stray hairs behind your ears as he tilts your head up by your chin. You stick your tongue out, showing him that it was all gone as you wiped some of the spit off of your chin with a snicker.
“Good girl. Wha’cha think you deserve now? I had a long mission after all, so I will let you decide anything we do tonight.” he asks, rubbing your cheek with a soft smile as your doe eyes wandered off to think.
“M’wanna ride.” you say finally, a small smile forming on your lips as he leans back in his chair. Slipping his pants off all the way, he situates you to float right above his cock. You hiss as the tip slips through your folds; it was always a big stretch for you to battle. Not only was he long, he had girth too.
He lets out a satisfied sigh as he leans his head back, resting his hands around your waist as you sink down on his length. Your breath hitches when you're buried down to the hilt, the tip kissing your cervix as you squeezed your eyes shut. You thought that you had been prepped enough, sneaking in a few thrusts with your own fingers when you had been sucking him off. Yet here you were, your walls fluttering around his member as your hole stretched as far as it possibly could.
You let out a sharp gasp as your arm gave out, falling into his chest as your back arched from his length somehow driving itself even deeper than before. Your arms swung around his neck as you held on for dear life, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest as he placed a hand on the small of your back.
"You're acting like this is your first time again. Have I let my sweet baby down and haven't been tending to you enough?" he asks, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh as you nodded silently. He let out a small 'tsk' as he shook his head, "Well that just won't do, will it?"
He lifts up from the chair, not daring to pull out of your warmth, as he sets you down on his desk with your back against the cool wood. He lifts your legs up and throws them over his shoulders, pressing warm kisses along both of your inner thighs as he starts his slow thrusts. He grins as he watches your lips part, your eyes rolling back as he hits the spot you always love.
You babble a few incoherent words, pausing to let out a wonton of moans before you croak out a small "more, please." His eyes lit up at the words, pausing his kisses with a satisfied grin as he begins to ram into your cunt. Your eyes shot open as you gripped the corners of the desk, your knuckles turning white from the sheer grip.
"What? You said- hah- you said you wanted more. Look at this, I'm fuckin' you so well you can feel me." he says as he takes one of your hands and places it over the bump appearing and disappearing near your stomach. "I should go ahead a breed you, y'know? You would get pregnant in no time, easily. You want that? You want me to fill your sweet cunt up for being so good for me?"
You tried your best to nod, the thrusting doing the work for you mostly, as your hand traveled up to clutch his wrist. Your glossy eyes met his animalistic ones as your bottom lip quivered, muttering 'close' under your breath as your nails dug crescents into his skin, letting out a high-pitched moan as you came all over his cock.
Even though he was close to his own release, he slowed down just enough to loosely grasp it still but not overstimulate you (yet). With curious yet proud eyes, he watched a thin white ring form around his shaft. His eyes bounced up to your face as he watched it contort in pleasure, your brows knitting together with your eyes shut tight.
”Cum inside, please. M’want it.” you plead, your hands loosening on his wrists and moving up to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, leaning down to press your foreheads together with a smile as his hips snapped into yours.
He began back with his ruthlessly paced thrusts when suddenly your walls clamped down due to another oncoming orgasm, pulling him over the edge quicker than he thought as he threw his head back once again, spilling his thick seed into your sweet cunt. You followed in suite, cumming for the second time in a row as you gripped his shoulders, shaking in his hold like a leaf.
He pressed a long kiss on your temple, brushing back your sweaty hair with a soft smile.
“You did so good, princess.” He coes, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled.
“Doing what I’m best at.” you reply
“Oh? Ready to continue what you’re ‘best at’ then? I have plenty of stamina too, you know.” he says with a laugh as you smacked his arm.
#getou suguru x reader#geto x you#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#geto smut#jujutsu geto#suguru geto#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#jjk suguru#suguru x reader#suguru jjk#suguru smut#geto x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk anime#jujustu kaisen smut#x reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#fem!reader#fem reader#female reader
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desperate!reader x ellie
modern!au (ellie’s a guitarist for a band), established relationship, ellie’s equally as desperate but loves to tease u lol, slight stoner!ellie, mentions of alcohol, cunnilingus, strap fucking, doggy-esque, she’s a creamer, sweet pet names but rough fuckin <3, she’s kinda mean during it, spit play (a lil bit), light slapping (like once), i love ellie
18+ mdni (u will b blocked)
watching ellie’s fingers move in rhythm to the music could’ve made you come alone. watching her on stage, letting the music consume her, had you growing wetter and wetter with every passing minute. you were practically itching for the show to be over so you could run backstage and jump her.
it’s nearing the end of the show and you can see ellie looking around the crowd for you before her eyes land on yours and giving you a small smile. after one last song the stage lights go dark— it’s over. you rush to the side of the stage, practically running to the backstage area before you feel an arm wrap around your waist preventing you.
“what do you think you’re doing?” the voice is deep, obviously not ellie.
“need to see my girlfriend, lemme go,” you’re squirming in the security guard’s grip trying to get out.
“yeah you and everyone el-,”
“let ‘er in,” a voice cuts in. you glance up seeing ellie.
“ellie!!” you feel the security guards grip loosen before you practically shove him off of you to run to ellie.
“hi, baby,” she smiles, “let’s go, yeah?” you nod grabbing her hand and following her.
you follow her into her dressing room seeing her bong, some alcohol, and clothes strewn all over the floor. ellie gives you a quick kiss before walking over to her bong, packing it and taking the biggest hit you’ve ever seen anyone take.
“c’mere, babe,” she sits down on the couch, patting her lap to which you happily oblige. plopping yourself onto her lap, running your hands up and down her body before settling around her neck.
“ellie,” you drawl out.
“what’s up?”
“kiss me, please,” you practically breathe out, “need to feel you, please. watchin’ you up on stage got me so worked up need you to fix it,” your face falling into her neck as you talk. a hand threads through your hair pulling your head back up before pushing you towards ellie, finally kissing her. you try to deepen the kiss but she pulls away, grabbing the bong to feed you a hit.
she puts the bong up to your mouth, your hands instinctively wrapping around the neck of it.
“suck in ‘til i tell you when,” she looks at you, flicking the lighter on before moving it to the bowl, you both watching the chamber fill with smoke. ellie pulls the bowl out telling you to inhale.
“hold it, hold it,” she drags on, “exhale. yeah, just like that look at you,” you know she’s doing it on purpose— talking to you like that. she knows the way she can get you soaking through your underwear with just her words, she doesn’t even have to touch you. you feel her hand sliding up your thigh to rest on your hip, comforting you as you cough from the smoke.
ellie begins rolling a joint for the two of you (probably the fattest one you’ve ever seen). watching the way her fingers meticulously roll the paper around the paper to the way the tip of tongue flattens on the paper to seal it shut. she knows you love when she rolls for you so she always tries to impress you while she does it.
“ellie, please,” you choke out.
“please, what? use your words, baby, we talked about this,”
“please, i need you inside me—need to feel you stretching me out, need your cock, ellie,” she practically throws you off her and onto the couch taking her shirt off then yours before reaching under your skirt and pulling your panties off and putting them in her pocket.
“gotta get’ya ready first,” she whispers as her hands move up your legs.
ellie lights the joint taking a few puffs to make sure it stays lit before passing it to you. she pushes your skirt up to your lower stomach before diving face first into your dripping cunt with no warning. she’s lapping at it like a starved woman— she is— she can’t get enough of it. she runs a finger down your cunt, inserting it into you before quickly adding another finger searching for that soft spot inside you. you try to rut your hips up into her face for some friction but her free arm is quickly pressed to your lower stomach holding you down continuing her assault on your clit.
you’re trying to keep hold of the joint, it’s burning and you know you’re wasting her weed so you bring it up to your lips taking a generous hit. as you cough from the smoke, you feel ellie laugh against your cunt sending shivers up through your body.
she continues on your cunt with her mouth and fingers and you can feel your orgasm building up in your stomach, everything becoming more sensitive.
“ellie ellie ellie, st-‘m gonna come,” you plead for her.
“come, baby, c’mon all over me. yeahh,” she drawls out the last part as you ride out your orgasm on her face, her tongue still lapping at your clit making your shaking legs close around her head.
she pulls her fingers out immediately bringing them up to your lips her other hand grasping your face in her hand.
“‘m not done with you, yet,” she says as she pulls the joint from your fingers, surprised you even were able to hold onto it. she takes a couple inhales of it before putting it up to your lips, signaling for you to take it between your lips and breathe in. ellie always knows how to get you so high. her tolerance is shot, so she just kinda assumes people can handle what she can.
you can feel the smoke run down your throat into your lungs as you inhale, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling the smoke. ellie chuckles a bit at your coughs.
“y’re doin s’good, babe,” ellie says as she gets up to walk over to her backpack leaning up against a wall. she unzips it before digging through it to find her black harness and the sparkly pink dildo she so graciously let you pick out. all while she’s doing this all you do is just watch the way the muscles in her arms flex and contort with each movement making you wetter and wetter by the second.
“ellieeeee,” you whine out, “hurry upppp,”
“be patient or you’re not getting any,” ellie replies simply making you nod your head in response despite the fact she’s facing away from you.
after a couple minutes ellie walks back over to you, assembled strap in hand.
“lay down f’me,” she requests to which you happily oblige laying down on your back on the couch.
“nuh uh, over the armrest, love,” she retorts to your movement. you give her a look before bending over the couch armest, arms sprawled out in front of you, back arched ever so beautifully with the help of the drop from the armrest to the couch.
ellie slides on the strap moving to walk behind you. you feel her fingers slide from the base of your neck all the way down your back to your leaking cunt before pressing a finger to your clenching hole, not quite going in. ellie’s teasing causes you to push your hips back onto her finger so that she slides in. she’s quick to press a hand to your lower back pushing you into the couch to suppress your movements.
“you take what i give you, or i give you nothing,” ellie states simply.
“but, ellie, i need you. ‘ve been waitin’ all day for you. can’t you see—feel— how wet i am for you,” you reply desperately, trying to turn your head to look at her. ellie sucks in a breath at how direct you’re being, her resolve crumbling.
“you can wait five more minutes,” she says, fully submerging her finger inside you, making you gasp. she starts her ministrations ever so slowly, teasing you, before she begins to speed up and slowly teases another finger into your entrance. the stretch from her fingers leaves your mouth agape, letting out gasps for air every time she hits the soft spot inside of you.
“ellie ellie, ‘m- ah, fuck, ellie right there,” you blurt out to her as she practically assaults the spot inside you.
“need your cock please ellie ‘m ready,” it basically comes out al muddled together, but ellie knows what you need. she always does. she slowly takes her fingers out of you before leaning completely over you, leaning on her forearm next to your head, to tap her fingers against your lips.
“suck,” she says. and you do. ellie practically moans at the sight of you taking her middle and ring finger into your mouth, sucking on it like you would her strap. ellie’s throbbing at the sight and feeling of your mouth around her fingers. she pulls her fingers out of your mouth leaving a string of saliva between your lips and her fingers before it breaks. your lips are covered in spit, and ellie takes her hand smearing the saliva around before gently slapping you across the cheek to get your attention.
“you ready, my love?” she asks and you nod as best you can with her body weight on top of you.
“yes,” you squeak out, knowing she’ll only fuck you if you use your words. ellie lifts herself up off of you and slaps the pink silicone cock against your clit a couple times before sliding it down to your entrance before she pushes the tiniest bit in. ellie’s taking her time entering you, making sure the dildo is lubed up enough with your arousal. every time she pulls out she goes a little deeper, before she completely pulls out of you and slams her whole cock into your cunt making you moan out loud as she hits your soft spot. when ellie sinks into you, you hear her groan too as if she can feel how tight you are.
“fuck— move, ellie, fuck me please please please,” you sound desperate— and you are— but you don’t care all you need is to feel her cock pounding into you. and she does. her hands grip your hips, pushing you into the armrest even more before setting a ruthless pace for you.
you can feel tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill, as she fucks you senseless. you’re moaning any word your fucked-out brain can produce.
“yes yes! fuck- oh my go- ellie,” you’re practically fucking screaming and you’re sure everyone outside of her dressing room can hear how well she’s fucking into you. ellie then leans over you, bracing herself on her palms, causing her cock to (somehow) get even deeper inside you. ellie’s groaning in your ear as she continues fucking you like her life depends on it. she can tell you’re close from the way you’re clenching around her and how hard it’s getting for her to move. but you need just a bit more.
ellie leans up a bit before snaking a hand around your front to reach down to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles on it making you cry out from the sensitivity.
“ellie, ‘m gonna come. i’m gonna come, gonna come,” you can’t even stop the words from continuously coming out if you tried. tears streaming down your face, sweat forming on your forehead, ellie’s fingers rubbing your clit, her fucking you harder than she ever has— it’s too much.
“c’mon. come f’me, baby,” she says, not letting up at all finally pushing you over the edge. you come so hard your mouth just falls open into a silent scream, breathing like you just ran a 5k. ellie can barely move but she bottoms out into you, rubbing your clit through your orgasm before pulling out seeing the white ring of your come around the base of the dildo.
she pulls out and you can’t even move— just completely lifeless, naked and bent over the couch. ellie tells you to stay put (as if you could move anyway) before she comes back with a warm towel cleaning you up making you twitch from the over sensitivity. ellie flips you onto your back, gently moving your hair out of your face before leaning in to give you a quick kiss as a ‘thank you’, something she does every time.
“what about you, els?” you question, knowing she hadn’t come but had to be ridiculously soaked.
“we’ll worry about me later. get some rest, my love,” ellie replies thinking about the ways she’s gonna ride your face as you doze off. <3
a/n: WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHRN WHEN WHEN.
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BnHA Chapter 410: Kacchan Fights a Baby
Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was born and then he grew up and murdered the Demon Lord.
Today on BnHA: Kacchan fights a baby. Tomura and Deku finally remember that they were supposed to have been fighting too this entire time, and get on with that once again. Tomura is all, “[literally just reaches out and grabs Deku’s face because Deku’s main character powers suddenly abandoned him in a fit of confusion].” Deku is all, “[chops off Tomura’s fingers which is somehow not even in the top twenty of violent things that have happened in this series in just the last five chapters].” Tomura is all “joke’s on you I still got your quirk :D” and fuck me he actually stole Danger Sense, what the fuck.
logically I knew AFO still had to be alive somehow because he’s too big of a villain to go out that easily without a proper sendoff. but deep in my heart, I’m still secretly disappointed
it just isn’t fair, lol. this guy has died more times than Rasputin and he’s still out here scheming his schemey schemes. when oh when will it end
sir you did not just say you had yet ANOTHER unused trump card up your sleeve??
(ETA: the translation isn’t fully clear here, but I think the trump card he’s referring to is the whole “I’ll just go back inside him and join the part of me that was already in there and we’ll take over Tomura’s body again together” plan that he was trying to pull off. I think. if not though, that’s certainly something worth speculating about.)
well as always the psychology in this series is unironically fascinating! he just wants acknowledgement at the end of the day, huh. just wants some love and attention. too bad he was born in a rat-infested hellscape and learned all the wrong lessons and turned into a crazed omnipotent murderlad
also he really did turn back into a baby sdfsdlkjfl oh no. I need to see Katsuki’s reaction to this immediately
oh my lord
(●__●)
lmao this is so incredibly fucked up
ngl though, this is karma at its finest. he tortured and killed so many people trying to earn everyone’s fear and awe and reverence, only to literally blip out of existence at the end with absolutely nothing to show for it
everyone please enjoy this series of panels of a deeply vexed Bakugou Katsuki picking a fight with this slowly melting evil baby
“you think I care that you’re a baby now. you think I won’t fight a fuckin’ baby. let’s do this you little punk”
also I’m sorry but it’s absolutely ridiculous that the gigantic chest wound Tomura inflicted on him got sewed up so neatly lol. AFO’s not the only one who stubbornly refuses to die no matter what
...
just once, it would be nice if Horikoshi didn’t immediately shred my plot nitpicks to pieces mere seconds after I write them
LMAO
BABY AFO DON’T CARE. BABY AFO WILL THROW HANDS WITH ANYONE ＼(｀0´)／
KACCHAN MY BELOVED FAVE OF ALL TIME, ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO LOSE TO A LITERAL FUCKING INFANT
WHAT HAPPENED TO “PERFECT VICTORY” LMAO. MOVING THE GOALPOSTS EVEN AS HIS CONSCIOUSNESS FADES. “EH, CLOSE ENOUGH”
-- OH FOR THE LOVE OF --
me: wow it sure is uncharacteristic of Katsuki to just pass out before he properly wraps up this battle
Horikoshi: oh yeah good point, sure would be a shame if someone... IMMEDIATELY ADDRESSED THAT CONCERN ON THE VERY NEXT PAGE
me: ఠ_ఠ
ldskjflaksdjfkds
fdsfsdkf. “SORRY ABOUT THAT, FOR A MOMENT THERE I ALMOST FORGOT TO BEND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO MY WILL”
holy fucking shit. his body was all “um, just a quick reminder that you’re HORRIBLY WOUNDED and have lost like ten gallons of blood and all of your cells are about to call an emergency meeting to shut this thing down before you get us all killed.” and he was all “WHAT WAS THAT?!” and his body was all “oh my GOD, FUCK, OKAY just forget we said anything”
and meanwhile Baby AFO is just lying there all “(◉⌓◉)”
this six-month-old child is truly and sincerely still trying to kill Kacchan while screeching death threats in high-pitched baby talk
this actually would have killed him too, if he’d succeeded in passing out. all that just to be punk’d by a damn baby
you are actually shitting me right now
at this point I’m genuinely not sure which of them has the more powerful angry toddler energy
oh no ffuffkdsfk
meeeeelting. meeeeeeltiiiiiing!!! oh what a world what a world
jesus Horikoshi I am genuinely speechless
... welp
WAIT NO WAY, REALLY?!?!
?!?!?! WAS IT ACTUALLY THAT SIMPLE THIS WHOLE TIME
-- lkjf
three times. three times in the same fucking chapter. I give up. apparently I’ll literally believe anything this man says. does it feel good, Horikoshi. preying on your readers’ hopeful naivete
yeefuckinghaw lmao
GOOD JOB KACCHAN YOU DEFEATED THE EVIL BABY
awwwww
I actually had a theory about this! well more of a wishlist item, really. I can’t remember if I’ve actually posted about it yet or not. but it’s like. you know how Deku and Kacchan are always being really dramatic about holding hands? wanting to hold hands; not wanting to hold hands; being afraid to hold hands; holding hands via proxy, etc. etc.?
and you know how both Endeavor and All Might have each done their own version of the victory pose that Kacchan is referring to here? with each one using a different hand?
so you see, I was thinking that it might be nice. might be a little poetic and all that. if at the end of the fight, Deku and Kacchan did, in fact, hold hands. and then did the victory pose together. and it became like their iconic hero moment. them standing there together. having accomplished their goal and defeated TomurAFO through teamwork. realizing their shared childhood dream. and sharing that moment of triumph with each other and with the world, ushering in a new era of heroes
anyway yeah. I was thinking that might be a pretty good ending. but it looks like Kacchan maybe really is about to pass out here now, lol, so maybe not? anyways time to finally scroll down
-- okay I literally said awww again out loud
what a fucking nerd. I have never felt more fondness for a character in my life
every damn person watching this on the news better have leaped to their feet and started applauding, goddammit. those motherfuckers better be CHANTING HIS FUCKING NAME. all those nagging reporters better be bombarding his phone with calls. those fuckers who deleted his footage from the Shouto interview better be shamelessly leaving him dozens of voicemails acting like none of that ever happened and presumptuously asking when he can free some time in his schedule to visit their studio again. all the heroes who haven’t hugged him yet better be lining the fuck up. that one guy from the post-kidnapping press conference in chapter 86 better be writing a fifty page letter of apology!!
oh hey it’s a random pre-battle flashback mysteriously taking place in Troy “a few days before the battle” even though I thought they only moved into that place the night before the fight
I love how Katsuki immediately narrows his eyes (I assume. we can’t see for sure but that’s the vibe I get) at Jeanist and has to resist the urge to call the police on him for that pun
so Hadou’s wondering what Jeanist is talking about because they already evacuated the civilians, so what else are they trying to protect. and Edgeshot is all, “well obviously we’ve gotta protect everyone’s future,” which is a nice... rearshadowing?? for him saving Katsuki’s life later on lol
and now Mirko is all “get to the fucking point already.” which, same
so Jeanist says that Tomura is an even bigger problem than AFO, because at least AFO doesn’t want to murder everyone on the entire planet. and he concludes with “he’ll probably try to touch the ground and use his quirk.” which is a conclusion that I have to say wasn’t really worth two pages of flashback buildup for, considering that we all figured that out years ago
I’m guessing this is all just some sort of awkward transition back to Deku’s fight now lol
and now we’re getting two pages of exposition on how long it would theoretically take Tomura’s Decay to spread throughout the city, and then the entire country, yikes
damn. talk about stakes
and now finally back to Deku!!
shoutout to everyone who correctly predicted that Deku was once again talking out of his ass when it came to being out of Gearshifts. we all knew. unlimited supply
wow Tomura way to throw AFO under the bus
the way I recall it, AFO wasn’t the one who failed to kill him back then lol. but go ahead and talk your shit king
DEKU WHAT ARE YOU DOING
holy shit?!?!
like my first thought was “well last time he did this he just tried to steal OFA rather than Decay him, so he’ll probably try that again and it’ll be fine.” only to remember that the AFO inside Tomura is currently permanently(?) out to lunch, and Tomura himself doesn’t give two figs about stealing OFA. so, uhhhh >_>
(ETA: nevermind.)
but then this happened
Deku what the actual fuck
OH MY GOD??!?!
HOLY SHIT
okay. okay, fuck. lemme gather up my thoughts, and then we’ll wrap this up
they’ll never admit it, but you know the other OFA Vestiges secretly resented Shino a tiny bit for being the only one of them to not be gruesomely murdered. bet they all feel guilty for thinking that now
Shino and Banjou also seemed to have this cute little pseudo-rivalry thing going on, so I really feel bad for Banjou now. :/ he looks so horrified in that bottom right panel
gotta admit, I did not see this coming in the slightest. OFA has been this immutable “I do what I want!” quirk for so long that I never thought Tomura or AFO would actually succeed in stealing it, even partially. that shook me to my core
BUT, it’s also really exciting to me because it’s going to make this battle much more interesting if Deku can’t use his get out of jail free card. shit just got way more real and I’m here for it
lastly, so! let me tell you guys my prediction. I still can’t see Tomura being the final villain lol. I just can’t. it feels too anticlimactic. if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, and I’ve certainly botched MANY predictions in the past, but I have not yet learned my lesson from any of it and I will not apologize lol
so here’s what I think. Deku and Tomura battle it out for the next chapter or two, and Tomura snatches up more of Deku’s quirks one by one. we see all of the Vestiges disappearing and the mood gets more and more desperate. eventually we’re down to just Kudou and Yoichi. Deku is panicking, but for some reason Kudou seems even MORE panicked
Kudou/Gearshift eventually gets stolen too, and it looks like this might finally be it for Deku (I have no idea how he’d stop Tomura from Decaying the ground once Blackwhip gets stolen, btw, but maybe Katsuki or someone else interferes in desperation towards the end). but just when it looks like Tomura is finally going to take the last piece of OFA, Deku’s vibes suddenly do a 180, stopping Tomura in his tracks
cut to the OFA Moon Gorgeous Meditation Realm, where Deku and Yoichi are staring at the door -- yes, that door -- in shock. because it’s finally been opened (now that the other Vestiges are no longer there to keep it at bay). and just like that, enter AFO, for the THIRD FUCKING TIME :D :D
tl;dr, HERE’S HOW HORCRUX!DEKU CAN STILL HAPPEN!!! wait where are you all going. wait come back
anyway so wow that was a really bizarre chapter that I truly thoroughly enjoyed, which should probably be a bit concerning. on to the next two week break! (for anyone who’s not aware, Shounen Jump will be on break next week, so yeah.) I’m on chapter 391 now. so close but still so far. the end of the year has gone by too damn fast tbh
#bnha 410#bakugou katsuki#all for one#midoriya izuku#shigaraki tomura#one for all#bnha meta#bnha theory#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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SUNDRESS! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐
— PROMPT: in which joon fucks you in your brand new sundress because to him, the only thing better than you… is you in a sundress practically begging for him.
— PAIRING: namjoon x f!reader
— GENRE: established relationship, smut (minors dni)
— WORD COUNT: 2.45k
— WARNINGS: daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie (yum), heavy praise, body worship, big!dick joon, size kink, reader is HORNY AF
— A.NOTE: HI!!! so if u saw the first version, im so sorry LOL… im not good at using this app 😭 but here it is (again), if you cant see some of the words, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!
namjoon loves dresses. it’s not just any dress that he loves, though, but sundresses. specifically, sundresses on you. the ones that are tight around your chest with its fabric digging into the flesh of your soft breasts. the ones that are flowy at the end and show him your cute panties every time you spin a little too fast or you bend over to pick something up. the ones that he wants to rip off your body, to watch your tits spill and your face turn beet red.
he keeps his admiration subtle, though. he is a gentleman after all.
with his subtlety, you never realize how hard joon gets when he sees you in a sundress. he ogles you with wide eyes every time your head is turned and sometimes he tries to look under your dress to see your panty-clad pussy. one time in particular, he took a peek and saw your bare cunt and had to excuse himself because he thought he was going to explode if he was within 5 feet of you. you’re just so oblivious, though.
but today, you peek your head around the corner in your brand new dress to see your handsome boyfriend reading a book on the couch, hair messy yet still undeniably perfect. you feel giddy, your stomach fluttering and panties dampening just at the sight of him.
“psst!” you whisper trying to catch his attention, but he seems to be deeply invested in his book so you call for him instead. “joonie!” you say in a hushed whisper.
a smile creeps onto his face and he hums, eyes still following the words in his novel. “need somethin’ baby?”
you come from behind the corner, standing in front of him, bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you wait for him to look at you. “do you like it?” you ask meekly with doe eyes ready to bore into his.
when namjoon looks up, he doesn’t expect to see you standing in front of him, tits pushed up unable to breathe with the confining fabric of your brand new sundress. he notices how the dress stops midthigh and how it's tight around your waist and how fucking perfect you look. he imagines how much more perfect you would look with the dress pushed up and his cock pounding you into the couch, but he has to refrain before he cums in his sweats.
you take his silence as an act of disapproval and feel your mood falter. he soon realizes he still hasn’t said anything till he hears your voice, its tone being a stark contrast from a few seconds prior. “i guess you don’t like it… i think i can still return it,” you trail off, lips etched into a deep pout as your eyes fall to the plain white socks on your feet.
he quickly snaps his head up from your body to look up at you, “uh-uh, look at me, baby,” he says, watching your eyes move up to look at him. he takes ahold of your hands, intertwining his fingers into yours, “you look fuckin’ gorgeous, angel… you just caught me off guard, that’s all,” he reassures. “so pretty for me…” he mumbles, eyes raking over your body all over again.
you squeeze your thighs together as his words and deep gaze shoot straight to your core making you let out a shaky exhale, “all for you…” you reiterate like it’s a statement, which in this case, it is. it’s the cold hard truth because there’s no one else that makes you feel the way that kim namjoon does.
he feels his cock twitch in his sweats and notices the way you shift your weight. his eyes darken, pulling you closer to him, “promise?” he murmurs, looking up at you.
you feel the dull ache from earlier in the pit of your stomach growing stronger. you need to feel him. you take a chance, straddling his lap, blushing softly when you feel his large bulge digging into your soaked, bare pussy. “promise, ‘m all yours, daddy…”
namjoon swears he could cum in this instance. the feeling of his baby’s slutty pussy dripping all over his grey sweats? he’s in heaven and he’ll have to remember to thank the gods for this later. his mouth opens to say something about your lack of underwear and the taboo nickname, but he’s interrupted by a strangled groan when you start grinding into him.
you gasp, dreamily, getting even wetter at the feeling of his cock growing harder against your cunt. “daddy,” you whimper. “fuck, m’ so wet, you make me so wet,” you ramble rutting against him at a desperate pace.
fuck it, joon thinks to himself. he groans, moving his hands to your waist to guide you, “yeah, baby? daddy’s got you all messed up down here?” he asks, eyeing how the wet spot on his crotch begins to grow with your arousal.
you nod, eyes sealed shut with your head filling with pleasure.
“you’ve got me all messed up, too,” he hums with a smirk, “every fuckin’ time you put on a dress, i just wanna rip it off you and fuck you so bad,” he admits mindlessly, gripping your waist even harder. “you’re always so pretty, angel, my pretty fuckin’ girl,”
you moan at the thought of all the times you had unconsciously teased him with your little dresses. your stomach flips at his words once again, “fuck me,” you whine, opening your eyes again. you rest your forehead against his, breath fanning against his face as you whisper, “want you to fuck me, joon, wan’ your cock in me– need you in me,”
before he gives his brain a chance to short circuit, he flips you over into the couch at the speed of lightning. his hands move to your tits, roughly pulling the fabric down watching them pop out. he moans softly, taking a second to admire how beautiful they are before he places open-mouthed kisses over them. his mouth quickly catches one of your nipples, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud, biting and sucking as if he were a starved man. he hears your whimpers and repeats his actions with the other, moving his hand to massage your tit.
you arch your back and cry loudly when he bites your nipple a little too hard, “hngh!” he releases, apologizing for his eagerness with gentle eyes. you pout at how much wetter you’ve gotten since his attack on your breasts. “wan’ it now, please!”
namjoon nods fervently, “anything you want, pretty girl,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss your lips with passion and genuine love, yet it’s sloppy— teeth clashing and tongues tangling with one another. you moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck before he pulls away a minute later, a string of spit leaving you tethered to one another for a moment longer.
he pulls his ruined sweats down far enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his clothed abdomen. staring at how hard he is, you realize you can only ever think about how huge his cock is. and how gorgeous it is with its prominent veins and blushy tip that leaks the sweetest of precum. and how he always fucks you so good with it– how he fucks you till you’re wrecked. nothing but a beautiful, babbling mess of cum, drool and sweat, but you both fucking love it.
your pussy clenches over nothing, the sight of his cock being too hot to handle. you feel your arousal drip down your ass, soaking the dress and probably even the cushion of the couch. neither of you could care less when you’re starving for each other.
namjoon wraps his hand around his throbbing member, stroking up and down, “you want it, baby?” you nod, spreading your legs to put your pussy on display for him. he sucks his teeth, shaking his head at your lack of response, “you gotta tell me how bad you want it,”
you huff flipping your dress up and pulling your knees to your chest and you notice his eyes zero in on your sopping cunt and your desperate hole that’s literally aching to be stuffed. “oh, please!” you cry, eyes welling with tears of need. “wan’ it bad, you always fuck me so good, so so good! wan’ your big cock in me, daddy, promise i can take it,”
he sucks in a sharp breath, dick twitching and on the verge of cumming everywhere, but he loses it when he hears those words tumble out of your mouth oh-so needily.
“please, i wanna feel all your cum inside me!”
he grunts, aligning his cock with your drooling hole before slowly inching in. he can barely hear your mewling with the ringing sound in his ear being so loud. the way your sticky walls invite him in and wrap around him so tightly has him seeing red. namjoon drowns in pride knowing he molded your pussy to the shape of his cock and his only.
immediately, you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back to push him into you further, but to also hold you steady.
“fuck!” he grunts, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “this pussy was fuckin’ made for me, ain’t that right, beautiful?” he looks down at you to see your eyes screwed shut and your mouth wide open, yet you still nod your head feverishly. “all mine, yeah?”
“yours, always yours,” you cry, still nodding your head.
he hums in delight before inching out of your tight grip and slamming back in making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, holding his body close while he pushes the dress up, having the soft, cotton fabric bunch up all together under your tits.
you cry softly and tilt your head back when you feel the head of cock brush against your sweet spot. you pant out a soft, “r-right there,” with your eyes threatening to roll back.
you feel him push you deeper into the couch, his mind lost in pleasure with how your face is scrunched up in pleasure and your high pitched moans filling the once quiet living room. his length glides in and out of your ruined cunt, his skin slapping against yours— another delectable sound he can’t help but love.
“pretty fuckin’ baby,” he grunts, hand sliding over your abdomen and pushing down softly. the pressure of his hand makes your back arch into him. “can you feel me here?”
you gasp, breathing labored, “hah! yes! s’ deep, daddy, soso big,” you whine, clenching tightly around him.
you swear you see the light with his words and the way his cock keeps bumping your cervix, but his splayed hand slides down and his thumb finds your hardened clit and rubs sweet circles into you.
“j-joon!” you squeal, the action sending lightning cracks through your body. “m’ gonna— hah! gonna cum!” you feel a knot in your stomach tightening as your impending orgasm approaches quickly.
he revels in how your cunt clamps tightly around him, sucking him in even more. “soak my fuckin’ cock then, baby, you can do it,” he mutters, his thumb on your swollen bud working faster. “make me proud,”
a mantra of his name leaves your mouth as you cream his cock, just as he asked you to do. your eyes definitely roll back this time as you let out a loud moan and your pussy grips him like a vice. the knot unravels at your disposal with the help of his words and your need to please him. your back arches even more and tears of pleasure slip from your eyes.
he can’t even help but moan, leaning in to kiss your lips roughly. the way his cock twitches uncontrollably inside of you signals he’s close, like watching you cum made him even harder, so he pounds into you even more. the head of his cock consistently kissing your sweet spot with every impressive stroke. the sound of your arousal soaked skin connecting and disconnecting at a rapid speed mixing with your muffled, joint moans.
“s’ too much!” you cry once he breaks this kiss again.
namjoon nods knowingly, “i know, baby,” he grunts. “such good girl for me, fuck, m’ almost there,” he mumbles against your lips. “take it for me, i know you can,”
you nod obediently, your overstimulated cunt weakly clamps around him again at the praise.“c-cum inside,” you whine.
he groans again, louder this time, “gonna fill my pretty girl’s filthy cunt full of my cum, that’s what you want?” he asks, words slurring a bit as his head spins. “you wanna leak my cum, baby?”
your brain’s gone haywire with his vulgar words and ruthless pace, yet you still find the sanity to reply with your own slurred words, “pleaseeee, daddy, pretty please!”
he lets out a cracked moan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter till his body stills at the hilt. he moans again, louder this time when his hot load spills, painting your battered walls white. he nearly collapses on you, your name slipping out if his mouth in shuddered breaths as he comes down from his euphoric high.
you both spend a few minutes basking in the warmth of each other, soft sighs and moans exiting your lips and his, too. he soon wordlessly pulls out, shushing you sweetly when you whine at the sudden emptiness. his eyes look down at the mess you two had created, cursing in his mind as he watches his cum flood out of you. he fights the urge to shove it all back inside of you for “safekeeping,” but ultimately decides against it for both of your sakes.
instead, he pulls his sweats back up and runs to grab wet cloth to clean you up with.
when he comes back, you look at him with glazed over eyes and a lopsided smile. he smiles at you, eyes crinkling. he cleans you up, murmuring soft praises and placing tiny kisses over you.
“did so well for me, love,” he whispers once he’s done, pulling the culprit dress down and covering you up again. he peppers your face with kisses and words of affirmation.
you hum, basking in the afterglow, “so… i guess you don’t want me to return the dress?” it’s a joke, but seeing namjoon back away from your face and his lips pressed into a straight line only makes you giggle.
“you’re keeping it… in fact, let’s go buy you a hundred more, yeah?”
© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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How the TF2 Mercs would react to you wanting to paint their nails <3
a/n: I hope you guys will appreciate this, TF2 holds a special place in my heart, I've loved it for years so doing this makes me all giddy inside.
If you have ay requests, please message me! I do CoD and TF2!! Enjoy! <3
Scout
Would be like "I ain't into that type of things, Toots."
After some convincing would let you paint his thumb and only his thumb.
Perhaps he sees you all happy while doing it and says it's okay for just *one more* finger.
Square nails, I don't make the rules.
Which then turns into his whole hand.
Shows it off to the team because YOU were the one who did it and they should be jealous.
"TAKE A FUCKIN GANDER YA BUNCH OF PANSIES"
Would pick off the nail polish as a habit during briefings or when he's not paying attention.
Feels bad coming back to you with his awful manicure.
"Don't be such a stick in the mud, at least you get to hold my hand." Dick
Medic
Would love to have you paint his nails, but he thinks it would cause issues during his procedures
Ya know, cuz he doesn't wear gloves....for whatever reason
"Please.... :(" "Oh... Meine Taube.. How can I ever say no to you?"
100% Short round nails. Maybe not slender/skinny fingers, but they're def on the thinner side.
Ends up forcing himself to wear gloves just so they won't get ruined.
He thinks your careful and skilled hands are very attractive and "intriguing" as you paint them.
He's weird like that, You love it.
He loves you....maybe too much....He'd probably cut your hands off if you said yes.
He's the type to ask lol
Spy
No
No again
Stop asking
He wears gloves anyways, why do you want to so bad?
He doesn't have time for these silly games!!!!
"Mon canard, Please. This is too immature for me" "So you're saying you don't love me?" *Smug look*
You win
He has very nice nails by the way. Perfect nails, perfect slender hands.
He doesn't really say much, but you can tell from his eyes he enjoys such an intimate moment.
He tells noone and shows noone, but he likes to be in his room jsut looking at them, thinking of you.
Would do yours if you asked....nicely
Pyro
I mean this is obviously a yes.
The gloves are off before you finish your sentence.
Scarred hands, maybe missing a nail on a finger, but that's okay.
Picks the colors, they want pink. Lotta pink.
Get's excited when you bring up stickers.
Rocks a pink and purple manicure with a flower sticker on their missing nail.
Becomes a weekly thing, your little spa day. :)
Heavy
Skeptical, but why not? Couldn't hurt.
Lot of surface area, dudes hands are bigger than your face.
He finds it amusing that your hands are so small compared to his.
He's letting you paint his nails, but he'd like some dark colors.
Maybe not black, more like blue or maybe red occasionally/
"One sticker?" "No sticker, thank you" "Okay one sticker" "...Okay, for you"
Sniper
"If it'll make ya happy, doll."
Falls asleep as you paint them.
Rough hands, tan lines from his gloves, he has dirty finger nails :Gross:
You throw in some....cleaning... just cuz you care.
I love this man so much, but oh my god I just know he's musty.
You give him plain black nails, one white nail on his ring fingers
You don't do his thumb, you notice the big bruise under his nail, idk what those are called.
I looked it up it's called Garand Thumb (It's so canon)
You fight with him because you wanna know of it's like a hematoma or not (Gross I know, but I'd do it)
Engineer
Well it's not something he'd find himself doing on his own, would probably think it's silly until he met you.
"As long as I don't look all frou frou after, I'm fine with anything Darlin' "
AAAA TALK TO ME LIKE THAT
Thick fingies, like fat hands a bit, slightly rough because of how much he works. Only slightly because he still wears gloves.
I like to think his hands are covered in oil/dirt most of the time, He does wash them, but he's just always workin on something.
Would wash them before you paint them though. Lovely little you can't be getting your perfect hands dirty.
He wants yellow, give him yellow nails. Like sunshine yellow, like his hat.
He thinks it's "Just lovely lookin' "
Demoman
You don't ask, you just paint them while he's passed out drunk.
You give him rainbow nails, Glitter top coat. You're so mean
Surprisingly soft hands, Big and thick, very soft. My goodness you're even jealous by how nice they are.
He even has the perfect nails for painting. What doesnt this man have?
Oh wait
He's PISSED when he wakes up.
Probably calls it gay (But like....worse)
Sees you sad because of how he reacted.
Slumps in his chair, "They're 'right...."
Grows to like them (more like live with them)
Maybe in like 2 weeks to see hims again, they're still painted, just a bit withered away.
He loves em
Soldier
"DO I LOOK LIKE SOME SORT OF PANSY TO YOU, MAGGOT???"
You offer to do them in the colors of the American flag
He accepts obviously
You do it standing up cause he is just...there. Stiff as a board.
Wide nails, Rough knuckles, calluses.
When you're done he salutes you.
"Well done, Maggot. Now I won't have to kill you." Sure buddy
I hope you guys liked it!!
#tf2#tf2 scout#tf2 medic#tf2 spy#tf2 pyro#tf2 heavy#tf2 sniper#tf2 engineer#tf2 soldier#tf2 demoman#tf2 x reader#team fortress#tf2 imagines#shoukiko
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own me
rockstar y/n x groupie tour photographer!harry
content warnings: 1.4k words of breeding kink smut lol (alsooo daddy kink, a little bit of dumbification and degradation, squirting)
masterlist | talk to me
The first time Y/N suspects Harry may have a breeding kink, it's a few months after their first hookup.
For the first three months or so, Harry shows up whenever he wants. He'll shoot a text to Y/N around an hour before heading to the venue to make sure it's okay he comes, but she never rejects him. Somewhere along the fourth month, the texts stop coming and Harry arrives more frequently, and neither of them say anything about it.
It's around then that Y/N notices he grunts out a few things during a particularly heated session. They've been going at it for nearly two hours, breaking periodically for water or cigarettes, and Harry is the dominant tonight. Y/N's four orgasms deep, slick and sore between her thighs. He's spooning her from behind and thrusting into her steadily, shudders wracking her body as he encourages her to cum once more for him so he can finally finish.
Her fifth orgasm makes her gush liquid around his cock as he rubs at her clit, bumping her g-spot with his painfully hard cock.
"Fuck," Harry moans as he watches her squirt, his balls begin to tighten, "Shit, baby, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum."
"Please," Y/N begs, her hair matted to her forehead with sweat, "Please, please, I need it daddy, please cum inside me."
"That what you want?" he asks as if a switch has suddenly been turned on by her words, "My dirty girl wants me to fill her to the brim with my cum? Make it fuckin' stick, hm?"
"Yes," Y/N whimpers, too far gone to truly analyze what he's saying. It's a pump or two before Harry's making good on his promise and spilling inside of her, mewls and curses falling from each of their lips at the sensation. She'll rarely admit it because she knows how taboo it is, but one of her favorite feelings is having Harry finish inside her, stuffing his cum deep and letting it leak out while he watches and massages her inner thighs.
Afterwards, they don't talk about it, and that's fine with Y/N. The reason why they work so well is because they're generally pretty nonjudgmental — they're willing to entertain each other's kinks or try anything out once.
And she's fine not bringing it up until a few weeks later, when he's waiting for her back at her hotel room after the show, and he just looks so fucking good perched on the end of her bed. She's still a bit sweaty from the night's performance — normally she'll take a shower at the venue, but knowing Harry was in her city, she wanted nothing more than to catch a cab back to the hotel as soon as humanly possible.
He's wearing a pair of light wash baggy jeans, worn white Vans on his feet and a graphic tee on his torso. He's flicking through photos on his camera when he looks up to see her come through the door, a small smile gracing his lips.
"Hey," Harry greets, gently setting his camera down, "Great show tonight. You looked amazing."
Y/N doesn't even care to kick off her platforms or jump in the shower before she's surging towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him to her for a messy kiss. It's desperate and hot, and she feels like she'll explode if he doesn't tear her clothes off in the next five seconds.
Harry returns her energy tenfold, reminding her of yet another reason why she adores their arrangement. Without needing any instruction, he's tugging her black dress up and over her body, leaving her in a lace thong. His hands are immediately on her butt as their lips reconnect, squeezing the flesh before giving each cheek a swat.
"I need you in me," Y/N whispers against his mouth, using quick hands to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, "I need you to fill me up with your cum."
"Jesus," Harry mutters, mainly out of disbelief. They're normally not so focused on reaching the end goal so it's safe to say that Y/N instantly yearning for his peak is a change. He's ready to break away momentarily to make sure she's alright before she opens her mouth again, mumbling devilish syllables against his skin.
"Need you to make it stick, daddy. Wanna be swollen with you."
Just like the last time she plays into his kink, the switch is suddenly on, and Harry's dragging her to the bed. Her body bounces down against the mattress and she gasps as he tears her thong from her lower half, the bite of pain making her whimper. He kicks his pants and briefs off, not even bothering to rid himself of his shirt before he's kneeling over her, pumping his length.
"You sure you want that?" Harry hisses as he strokes his cock, beads of pre-cum making noisy slick sounds. "You want daddy to knock you up? Fuck my cum into your womb until you can't even remember your own name?"
"Fuck— yes daddy, I need it," Y/N pleads, bucking her hips up to meet the tip of his cock. They know it's just for play, that the second they're done and Harry has the strength to walk, he'll pick her up Plan B to prevent an actual pregnancy, but for now? For now, they both need this more than anything.
"Can your tight little pussy take me without any prep?" He asks, sponging kisses along her breasts and down to her stomach. She threads her fingers through his curls and pulls at the strands, whining out an affirmative answer. It's all he needs to push inside, eliciting loud, hearty moans from either one. Instantly, she's filled with him, the sensation so perfect that her eyes flutter closed.
"You feel so incredible, baby," Harry mutters, building up to a quick pace. He's hitting her g-spot with each thrust and she can barely speak, pathetic attempts at moans falling from her lips instead. He smirks at this, leaning down to wedge his thumb between her lips. "Just a cock dumb puppy, yeah? That's okay. Lay back and let daddy fuck you the way you need. If you're a good girl and you squirt for me the way I like, I'll fill you with my cum, 'kay?"
Y/N mewls around his finger, nodding eagerly. Harry chuckles and removes it, making quick work to loop circles around her clit, using her saliva as lubricant.
"So desperate for me." He mumbles as she clenches around his cock, her orgasm already building.
"Give it to me, daddy," Y/N whimpers, trailing daft fingertips down to where they're connected and holding herself open for him. "Don't you wanna own me? Make everyone know I'm yours?"
At this point, it's a competition to see who can play into the kink more before one of them bursts. For a moment, it seems like Y/N has the upper hand as Harry groans, his length twitching deep inside of her.
"Want me to make you a mumma, huh? Is that what you want? Dirty fuckin' slut, begging for my cum."
That's all it takes for Y/N to explode. Her eyes are squeezed shut as she moans and gasps helplessly, having no choice but to let Harry work her through her peak, liquid bursting from below. She makes a mess all over the sheets and Harry's cock, but he couldn't care less — he loves it, in fact, so much so that he's coming just moments after her. He does exactly what she'd been asking for all night, reaching deep inside of her with his length and pumping her full of his warm cum.
"S-shit, I love it, I love it," Y/N babbles, her pussy still contracting around him.
"I know, baby, feels so good." Harry says lowly, his voice strained from the intense pleasure of his peak. Y/N can feel that he's come so much, knowing that it's dripping out of her despite Harry still being lodged inside.
"Wanna keep it inside," she whines, and Harry chuckles softly, brushing her sweaty hairs from her head.
"I'll get you a plug for next time, hm? That way you can keep me in for as long as you want."
Y/N nods and clenches around him at the thought, a hiss sounding from Harry's lips at the sensation.
"Dirty girl," he smirks, pressing a hand to her hip, "I'm gonna pull out now, okay? 'S pretty messy down here, so... maybe we should shower."
"Okay," Y/N murmurs. She grimaces slightly as he removes his cock, noticing the way his eyes linger and his lips part at the sight of his seed leaking from her puffy pussy. "So, a breeding kink, hm?"
Harry rolls his eyes and delivers a playful swat to her thigh. "You're no better."
#writing#harry#harry styles blurb#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles#fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#one direction#harrys house#hslot#long hair harry#harry smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x oc#harry styles writing#harry styles x y/n#harry edward styles
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gentleman
im back, bitches! apparently not a lot of you know that im a swiftie lmfaoaoaoa, so heres something cause slut is my absolute favorite its a fuckin' masterpiece
also, am i the only one who thinks that "in a world of boys hes a gentleman" means something else, lol. cause like this dude is in a group of boys, within those group of boys, but if he's in a group of men its a complete different story?!!??! if that makes enough sense.
one more thing, my short stories arent based on the song itself, its based on one line of the song. a lot of you were confused with my mad one and that it was different from what ne-yo was trying to say in the song. i hope this clarifies it :>
just a quickie for tonight, i feel so lonely hahaha... i should probably get a life
miguel x reader (mostly fem)
"everyone wants him, that was my crime. wrong place at the right time and i break down, then he's pulling me in"
youve been dating miguel for some time now, lets just say your relationship wasnt exactly... perfect
who were you to judge!? he was spiderman, so many females with different ages have looked up to him not only because of his heroicness, but as well as his physique, i mean have you seen that domino chip build?
you didnt mind at first, its not like you werent one of his fangirls before meeting him too, right? but no, you were starting to get pissed, no lie.
this caused a bit of a ruckus between the relationship of the two. a little screaming and shouting at the middle of the night when miguel forgot to tell her that he'd might need to patrol late at night again, or when she saw a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes kissing the masked man on the cheek on t.v! it didnt help when miguel had both his thumbs up and showing it to the camera before swinging away.
"mi vida, please! i told you im sorry. it was only for show, you know that!" miguel said, wrapping his arms around her waist as he places his chin on her shoulder while she was cooking dinner
"i didnt know that i dated a celebrity and not a hero then" you coldly said, turning off the stove and getting only one plate "i already ate dinner, eat without me" you said
but she hates it when someone is eating by themselves miguel thought to himself with a pout. he messed up, big time.
"mi vida, por favor" miguel said, shooting a web at her wrist to prevent her from leaving "im sorry, its my fault. i should have known better than to enjoy the kiss" miguel said, hugging his girlfriend tight
"i only like your kisses" miguel said as he snuck a quick peck on her cheek "maybe this isnt going to work, miguel. between the two of us" she said
this made miguel look at her with sad and torn eyes, "mi amor? im sorry if i was a bit overboard today, i understand my mistakes and i promise to correct them." miguel said, looking into your eyes with nothing but honesty as he holds both of your hands in his
"i know what i did was an ass mistake, and i understand if youre mad. but mi corazon, dont give up on us. i promise ill be better next time, ill know my limits" he said, his hands releasing from yours as he transfers then into your face, cupping it with his huge hands.
he gives you a quick peck on the nose and smiled "i love you, 3000" he said "please forgive me, lets work this out, i dont want us to end'
"you know, miguel. in a world of boys, youre a gentleman"
#imagine#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader amor#miguel o'hara x reader fluff#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara angst to fluff#miguel x reader angst#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#astv miguel#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x you#ohara#spiderman across the verse#spiderman#spidey#x you#x you smut#x you fluff#x you angst#x reader#female reader#fem reader#reader insert
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The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 20
Hi friends!!
Can't believe we're at the 20th week of me doing this rec list! I also hit 400 fics on the Spreadsheet, which is wild. We've got 14 fics this week. It was a bit of an angst fest, but there's plenty of smut and even a few threesomes!
As always you can find the Spreadsheet here and the other Digests here. You can tag me in literally any Pedro boy fic (except RPF) and I'll add it to my TBR! You can also send me fic recs if you want, and even ask me for fic recs. I'll dig through the sheet so you don't have to :)
Fic recs below the Pedge:
Blackmail - a Javi P/Joel series by @milla-frenchy
Javi is the new Fedra officer you have to deal with and he wants something instead of credits to let you and joel go on your supply run... he wants to fuck you! The way it starts with Joel getting cucked and then just.... descends into beautiful smutty depravity. This was so fucking good. I loved how Javi wasn't mean? Idk like the whole experience just sounded good as hell for reader after the initial discomfort of having to fuck someone to get what you want lol.
You need to relax, sweetheart - a Joel/Tess one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
You're Tess and Joel's babysitter and they come home from date night and decide to help you unwind from a stressful night of caring for children... ya know... with their bodies. -- TW dubcon/noncon -- also there's some breeding kink in here and Tess is also pregnant. This fic is so good and twisted and delicious and wonderful byeeeee
Shore Leave a Frankie/Santi one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings
Ok so you're a bartender and Frankie and Santi come into your bar sometimes on shore leave and they always flirt with you. And then this time they flirt with you and you like actively consider going home with them... and then you um find something out... spoilers sorry.... and decide to go home with both of them. And it is wonderful, sexy, and sweet. I'm gonna need a 30 part loose fit series on these 3 immediately <3
Rendezvous in Reno - a Dieter one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings
AHHH okay so erotica writer!reader has a book signing and the subject of her first published erotic short story walks in knowing full well the story was basically fanfic of HIM. Heavy flirting ensues... then he comes to your hotel. This fic??? It's so sweet and fluffy and like... indulgent? It's like eating dessert for breakfast. There's a lovely surprise in relation to Dieter himself, also. I just love his personality in this and I love the sexy intimate smut and I want to die I love Dieter so much.
An Open Invitation - a Joel one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Joel watches reader and her girlfriend? fuck buddy? whatever. fuck from his window cause girl has got her curtains WIDE open and she is doing it fully on purpose.... anyway some stuff happens and Joel ends up in her house with her and her friend and then he gets used like a sex toy and loves every second of it and I loved every second of this fic. It's perfect. No fucking notes. 10/10.
Aches!Joel - a Joel series by @toxicanonymity
At the time of this rec, there's four parts. This features virgin!reader and a Joel that shows more restraint than I really expected him to be able to. This fic is sweet and the teasing and the will-they-won't-they throughout is so good. It's like edging but you're reading. And then... ya know. Aches!Joel owns my whole heart. fuckin wanting to wait for a soft bed to fuck her PLEASE... whatta man (the bar is in hell, I know, leave me alone).
Linger On - a Joel series by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin
So you and Joel broke up 10 years ago and you moved on! You moved away from Austin and you got married and you have a kid and everything is great right? It's not. You're soooo not over Joel Miller. And then!!! Some events happen that put you face to face again and not just like.. briefly or temporarily. I don't want to spoil too much of this fic here in the review... just read it. It's angsty and yummy and I love it. (smutty also, who do you think I am?)
Carnal - a Joel series by @pascalsbby
Another camgirl!reader fic because I literally cannot help myself lmao. This one has the delicious twist of also being dad's best friend!joel AND best friend's dad!Joel... how fucked up is that? The correct amount of fucked up. The dirty talk going on in this fic is literally insane. My body went into fight or flight I was so turned on. And then on top of the crazy freaky yummy sex and like perv!joel and dom!joel and just all that going on... the story itself is really fucking good!!!
A Feeling That Never Came - a Javi P series by @theywhowriteandknowthings
You show up to your birthday/engagement party (i will not elaborate on that) and it's all kind of terrible and then your ex, Javi Peña shows up. Which should be a bad thing. Who wants their ex at their engagement party? You do. I promise you do. Desperately. So like... read this lovely bucket of angst as a bedtime story, cry yourself to sleep, and anxiously await the next part just like me.
It's always been you - a Dieter one shot by @alwaysmicado
Dieter Bravo is not a good boyfriend and after a year you are faced with the brutal reality of that fact. This fic destroyed me emotionally for real. Like the way Dieter is so.... pathetic? The perfect depiction of that push and pull where you can't let yourself fall into him but like all you want is for him to hold you because you're upset? GOD DAMN. Perfect. And then the interlude time period and what happens there and the ending? All so fucking perfect. I would love more of these two. They're broken and sad and it hurt and I can't stop thinking about this fucking fic AH
Light Only Shows You Where the Shadow Are - a Max Phillips one shot by @oonajaeadira
You've got this friend that can't take a fucking hint and won't understand you don't want him like that, but thankfully a handsome and unsettling stranger is there to save the day... several times.... and it's a little weird that he's always there and that you can't quite remember what he looks like when he's gone... and he makes you feel a little off. This is such a wonderfully spooky fic and it really captures Max's vibes while, despite the stalker behavior, somehow being more tolerable than the canon Max. I desperately hope you get the inspo to write a full Max series. It would be delightful
I Know Places - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters
So you're a bounty and Din catches you and he has to take you all the way from tatooine to coruscant. It's a long trip and due to some mitigating circumstances he can't carbon freeze you as you'll probably die and... dead people don't pay their debts so that just won't do. 3 weeks cooped up in the Crest with a tin can man you don't know and who is carting you off to certain death... surely that couldn't be a love story. Or could it? This fic is so fucking good. I love the story and the smut???????? To die for.
You Shook Me All Night Long - a Joel series by @macfrog
You are Joel Miller's assistant and he's the CEO and he is... handsy. But it's not making you uncomfortable, at all. This starts at the official work party, moves over to a bar, and then keeps going after that. I really loved this. Joel was the perfect amount of rich corporate asshole and possessive sexy man.
Plaited and Braided - an Ezra one shot by @bonezone44
Ez wins a bullwhip and learns to use it on a tree... then he learns to use it on you. This is so delightful. It's a little dark there for a bit, but it's much much sweeter than you'd expect a sadist!Ezra bullwhip fic to be. I would very much love to see more of these two.
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Here's some art I saw this week
Joel and Ellie by @vickisigh
Din by @gaytedlasso
Frankie and his shifter form by @littledozerdraws (commissioned for SNAFU by @theywhowriteandknowthings)
Pedro by @bonezone44
Pedro as popular raccoon memes by @iamasaddie
Joel Miller Apologist badge by @sin-djarin
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My Masterlist
My Kofi
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Happy Reading!
#fic recs#the spreadsheet digest#fanfiction recommendations#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro fics#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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let's talk about (and i mean watch me fawn over) supernatural s5 ep11 (Sam, Interrupted)
10 min into the chapter and the good doc's already showing why he's a good one cause the way he spotted the winchester's codependent relationship in only a few hours??? Not only that but he actually said it was "dangerously codependant", i mean he's right but ouch
and then we have that talk between dean and his not so therapist, which is actually worse when u re-watch it KNOWING it's dean and his crazy mind. He's having a therapy session with basically HIMSELF and (screams) ofc he's asking himself all the right questions. i mean she started that convo asking 'bout his sleep (he survives w only a couple of hours(and idk if that's the correct word im drunk)) and HIS DRINKING PROBLEM and we got the tell me about ur father thing
AND IN THEIR SECOND CONVERSATION SHE ASKS why is he the one who's gotta save everyone? why it can be anyone else? how is that fair? How many people does he have to save to call it a day? AND the crushing realization that it is horrible. the weight of his duty is crushing him. he can't save everyone.
then the third is the charm and the not so therapist is showing her true colors saying "Did you really think that you, Dean Winchester, with a GED…and a give-them-hell attitude, were gonna beat the devil? Please. The world is gonna burn, and there is nothing that you can do." AND it´s not her saying those horrible things, it's Dean's mind. Those are Dean toughts, that's how he sees himself.....
I CRIED
So they kick ass and save the day, go all c r a z y and almost kick the bucket BUT WE ARE NOT DONE YET cause Sam's mind is in shambles (a-fuckin-gain) and he can't not be honest, not when his crazy mind has told him about how his lies were the cause of all those deaths, not when he finally has a clue of what's happening to him, what was always inside him (it's ANGER) and Dean-
Dean says "You're gonna take all that crap and bury it. You're gonna forget it, because that's how we keep going" It's an awful advice, zero healthy, the absolutely wrong thing to say, to even THINK. But that's how he has always been. So Sam shuts his mouth and gets into the Impala, doesn't go against Dean's word, even tho i really think he really WANTS to cause he has most of the winchester emotional intelligence, because, and i repeat, HE'S IN SHAMBLES.
Im gonna kword myself UGH i hate them !!! i love them!!!
End of the communicate i just wanted to put my very disorganized thought into words lol
#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#dean#sam winchester#winchester#ACTUALLY SCREAMING WHAT I HATE THEM#they're so !!! and Q1021o1#im drunk btw#lots of quotes because SOMETIMES the supernatural script is an awesome piece of art#and then we have awful scenes to bring us back to reality#dean's emotional intelligence is actually there i swear but he's so afraid to recognize himself#its easier to pretend to be a drunk cruel dumbass than to let them see him for what he is#for what he THINKS#i swear i dont hate sam im just a dean winchester kinnie
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I have a request. Jack and Urban get into a fight and he’s annoyed, pissed even and so you defend him. He gets turned on and you bone in the tour bus lol
Team Defense - Jack Harlow
Context: “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
Warnings: 18+ ! Sexual activity.
Pairings: Jack Harlow X Fem!Reader ; Urban Wyatt X Platonic!Reader
A/N: shout out to @creme-delacreme for the help.
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Please DO NOT ENGAGE if not older stated age. Reader’s discretion is advised. I am not responsible if YOU CHOOSE to continue.
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Masterlist ☽☾
☽ ☾
“Urban, I’m trying to put this in a nice way, but you’re slacking here.”
“Dude, I’m doing the best I can. What the fuck else do you want me to do?”
The tour bus was empty, just you, Jack and Urban chilling out while the other members of the team moved on with their needed agendas. Jack and Urban had decided to take to the tour bus to look at some photos that Urban had taken while they were traveling.
Recently however, Urban had been falling off, his work clearly not his best. This was, from what could be assumed, due to the fact that his recent hook up had gotten unhooked. And he wasn’t have that shit, at all.
“I don’t know Urb, maybe do your job correctly?!” Jack announced, his voice slowly escalating.
“Shut the fuck up Jack, you wouldn’t know anything about taking photos. All you know is how to sit there and be the pretty boy the industry wants!” Urban responded, his voice matching Jack’s as he stood up to look down at him.
Jack immediately rose to his feet, getting on eye level with his best friend.
“Really Urb? Really?! You know, ever since that bitch dropped you, you’ve been a real fuckin ass and I’m sick of it.”
“Sick of it?” Urban chuckled, stepping to Jack. The two grew closer, basically in one another’s faces.
You had heard the beginning of the argument but decided to remain silent, letting them handle their own business. However, it was when you heard scuffling that you decided to rise from your seated position in the booth and moved to where the two were arguing towards the back of the bus.
At that point, Urban had pushed Jack away from him, anger in his eyes.
“I’ve been following you around this whole time on your career path, and you want to say you’re “sick of it?” I’m sick of you and your fucking egotistic ass.” It was then that you decided to step in.
“Urban, Jack, calm down. Y’all can talk this out.” You tried to reason.
“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do Y/N. Stay out of grown folk's business.” Before Jack could even go to defend you, you took it upon yourself.
“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to Urban,” You took the time to look around the bus to emphasize your point.
“But it surely ain’t fuckin me. Jack’s right. Ever since that bitch moved on from you, you’ve been walking around acting like a fucking dickhead, when we all knew that bitch was nothing but a fuckin bum. You and Jack were in this together since y’all were fuckin kids. If anything you’re fuckin dick riding on his career because you wouldn’t be anywhere if Jack hadn’t brought you along with PG. So really, you should be fucking grateful for Jack, especially since he’s been looking out for you, but yo stupid ass got your head in your ass and can’t get it the fuck out. So I suggest you do before you end up doing and saying some shit that’ll fuck up this relationship.” You spoke, stepping to Urban. Despite your height difference, he knew you meant business and what the fuck you said.
“Y/N…” Urban attempted to speak.
“No, don’t say shit to me. The fact that you stepped to your bestfriend like you’re about it really shows where your head is at. And the fact that you even spoke to me that way, knowing damn well I ain’t do shit to you tells me that you need to get your shit together. So Fix-it-Felix, cause this shit ain’t fuckin working. Got it?” You looked at him, anger written all over your face.
Jack stood there in shock, not because you held your ground, no he knew you could do that, but at the fact that you did it not just on your behalf but on his. He found it extremely hot.
He was bricked up.
After taking in your angered face, Urban took a step back from you, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door of the bus.
“I’ll check you guys later.” He spoke, avoiding eye contact with both of you.
“Don’t come back till you get some fuckin sense Urb.” You spoke before the door shut, letting out a loud huff. You turned to Jack, shaking your head as you walked toward him.
“Are you okay baby? What he said was fucked up, sounds like some insecure shit.” You spoke, looking up at Jack, the anger dissipating in your face.
He looked at you with lustful eyes, placing his warm palms on your face.
“Oh, I’m fine ma. But I do have a problem.” He spoke, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks.
“What’s wrong babe?” You spoke, tilting your head. He took your hand and moved it towards his crotch, pressing it to his hard-on.
“Oh…” You spoke, looking at Jack again.
“Did this- Did me defending you turn you on?” You questioned.
“Fuck ma, it did. It was so fucking hot, the way you stood there and made him take it, fuck.” He spoke, forcing your hand to palm at his dick.
“Oh, you’re really turned on from this.”
“Yeah, did you think I was lying? Shit ma.” He grunted out, moaning as you slipped your hands into his pants and boxers, stroking him further. He became putty in your hand, allowing you to push him onto the couch, straddling him.
You began kissing and licking at his neck, soft grunts and puffs of air leaving his lips, your cunt clenching around nothing.
He forced your hips to grind onto him with his hands, moving his face to indulge you in an intense make-out session.
“Fuck baby, need you. Right here, right now.” He groaned, lifting you off his waist to tug at his pants. You quickly moved off him, pulling down yours as well as your underwear to make a pool at your feet.
Immediately Jack grabbed at your hips pulling you to hover over his dick.
He pulled you down, your walls slowly sinking on and grasping at him, for-fronting a deep moan from the two of you. Jack began thrusting almost immediately, your body leaning forward to rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“Shit ma, fuck.” You whined in response, Jack immediately finding that spot to make you keen.
“Fuck yes, Jack, baby, fuck. Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t pretty girl, you feel too good, fuck.”
The sounds of skin slapping filled the air as you began to meet his thrusts, grabbing onto the back of his neck and curls, meeting his lips with a sensual kiss.
You moaned into one another’s mouth, tongues battling for dominance as you reached your peak.
“Baby… I’m getting close.”
“Cum for me. Cum all over me princess, give it to me.” To which you came hard with a grunt, your thighs shaking as your walls clenched and trembled around him.
“Shit!” Jack moaned out before filling you up with his seed, moving to your neck to leave light kisses.
“That was so hot ma.” You laughed at his comment, moving to kiss his lips once more.
“I’ll always defend you, baby. No matter what. Unless it’s controversial and damn right stupid, then you’ll end up like Urban.”
“I’d probably get bricked up from you yelling at me too, shit.”
Before you could comment, the sound of the door opening echoed the room, you and Jack scrambling to pull yourselves together.
“Y’all done fucking in here? Urb wants to talk to you, Jack. Oh, and you too Y/N.” You heard Neelam announce before the door shut.
You looked at Jack as you mixed yourself, nodding at each other’s proper appearances and signaling to head off the bus.
Urban was sitting on the ground outside in the shade, twiddling his fingers nervously.
You and Jack sat down across from him, forcing his head to look up.
“First, I want to apologize to you Jack. I know I’ve been slacking, it’s just…” he paused.
“That shit with that chick fucked me up man. One minute I thought we were good, next thing I know, she’s dismissing us over texts as if nothing happened. What she said to me.. was fucked up. But I should have never taken that out on you, and for that I’m sorry.” Urban announced, his eyes sincere.
“Did you mean anything you said?” Jack asked, his tone soft.
“Fuck no. Okay, sometimes you’re a little egotistic, but still! I love you bro, and I’d follow you anywhere. We wanted this since we were kids, I ain’t goin nowhere.”
“Good.” Jack said as he moved to shake Urban’s hand, doing their handshake.
“And Y/N, I’m sorry I stepped to you like that. That was totally uncalled for. You’re right, you didn’t do anything to me, and it was pretty fucked up for me to even come at you knowing damn well all you want is the best for me. I’m truly sorry.”
“I know Urby.” You nodded, smiling and leaning to kiss his cheek.
“But if you ever do that shit again, I’m reading you for filth.” At your statement, Urban threw up his hands in defense.
“Yes ma’am.”
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#jack harlow imagines#bf! jack harlow#jack harlow#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow smut#jack harlow fanfic#urban wyatt x reader
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Sindri x gn!mute!reader
Requested by: @simpforjesus: Can I please request Sindri x mute reader with angst with happy ending. Maybe Brok and Sindri have known the reader a long time and Sindri has liked them a long time but has not told them. Also I imagine Brok loves to tease Sindri about it lol. That’s not too short of an idea is it?
Mute reader, fluff, Sindri is OCD coded and has anxiety, headcannons and sort of story
You two probably met when Sindri and Brok were still living in swartalfheim when they were still unknown blacksmiths
You met Brok first when you stumbled upon them looking for a different blacksmith that you had known for a while but with the confusing city scape you reluctantly let them fix up your armor
Brok just thought you were not one for conversation but that didn’t stop him from talking your ear
You liked the foul mouthed blue dwarf so you chose to come around more often
You’d never tell him that it was because he was closer than your other blacksmith… not like you could
He didn’t find out about your muteness until the third time you came around, he legitimately thought you wanted to fit the ‘silent, mysterious adventurer’ archetype
When you actually tried communicating to him in Midgardian sign language he just kinda stood there, he didn’t know shit about sign language so you gave up, either listened to him and making exaggerated hand gestures
One of Broks favorite topics to talk about was his brother, well really just to complain about him
That he’s over working him and himself with their new project and that he has too drag him out of the house to get a lick of sun
when you questioned about their project he just rose his brows, whistled, and said how they’d figure out soon enough and that it will make them famous(the irony)
The next time you came around with new dents in your armpit you were met with arguing
The door to their forge burst open with someone falling to the floor, Brok stood in the entryway so you could deduce the dwarf on the ground was his brother
You stared at the man as he got off the ground not seeming to notice you so you got a good look at him
You wouldn’t guess the two were related because of their lack of shared traits
Brok noticed you and ushered you in while the other brother just stood there, realizing that someone just witnessed him getting kicked out of his own home
As Brok ushered you to take off your armor he says “ignore Sindri, fuckin’ hermit.”
While waiting for Brok to finish his adjustments Sindri opens the door albeit shamefully, he didn’t expect you to still be there so he just sort of freezes before introducing himself
He was a little dejected when you only smiled to him and said nothing, he gave a questioning look to his brother before Brok yelled about how you were mute
His mouth made an o in acknowledgment and asked “Do you sign?”
The question surprised you but you signed to him your name, where your from, and why you where there, not so sure he would even understand but to yours and Broks surprise he understood.
You two talked the entire time while Brok fixed your armor, it became routine for future visits
You two had such a strong affinity towards each other that Brok couldn’t stop himself from teasing Sindri whenever your back was turned
After a couple months they were comfortable able enough to show you mjolnir proudly but then watched as they torn themselves up after it for years to come, especially Sindri which tore you up the most
you’d watch as he would stay up night after night trying to create something to rival mjolnir, drowning in his guilt.
When Brok was bit only Sindri didn’t have the heart to tell you what happened but you could tell something was wrong
The constant twitching in his face, he was more adverse to touch than usual, and Brok WAS FUCKING BLUE
Finally when you were pestering him for the 5th day in a row Sindri blew up
Yelling how it was none of your concern and you were only a patron. This made you pissed because you were there for them as much as you could and tried to give back for their services but when you tried signing to him that exact thing but way more vulgar Sindri turned around, closed the shades, and blew out the candles so he couldn’t see your hands.
In hindsight it was pretty funny and Sindri knew deep down it was childish but he was doing it for your own good
You stormed out of the house and Brok had tried to stop you to see why you were crying you just pushed past him and ran out of the realm between realms
To say Brok was pissed was an understatement he came into Sindris room in a fury only to find him crying too, he had never seen him in such a state before so he made the decisions that whatever went on was none of his business
Sindri would later find you in your home moping around but when you saw him your attitude did a 180 and because of your last interaction you decided that the best course of action was to throw things at him
He was lucky it was only a couple pillows and a chair because he didn’t dodge any of it, knowing he partially deserved it
When you stopped as your rage burned out he finally confessed, both what happened and his feelings towards you
In response you hugged him close which surprised Sindri because it had been a while since he had been touched and that he didn’t feel the scratching under his skin, he felt at peace
You two decided that it was best not to tell Brok what happened and when you bring up his love confession he started rambling incoherently so you decided to shut him up with a kiss
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Man the last two weeks have been absolute hell with school and work which is why it took me a while to write.
Tag list: @simpforjesus , @alondrashultz ,
@novidiadarkmagic
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okay so really weird asks but i need this..! okay so a fem!mc like sharing her items with thhe first year.. uhm like her scrunchies, lotion and perfume🥰
OMG yes bestie i lowkey was already writing something like this is the best motivation for it cuz I did this a lot with my male friends!!
also sorry for being gone I been popping in perodiclly I recently had prom and graduation is like in three weeks, and I've been picking away on some asks they should be all rolling out at some point this week lol
Ace
He's literally shaking, shitting and crying mc why won't you give him the scrunchie!?
He'll buy a 1000 more just give him the red one with hearts literally fits his aesthetic.
"Goddamn 'ol begging ass.. here" "Yay!"
Won't shut up about it like he doesn't post much on his magicam but it's all he posts about for weeks.
does use lotion like that but after Mc called him ashy he started using it more but he uses some shit like aveeno.
then during class saw Mc pull out some neon green monstrosity she claimed to be called Waikiki Beach Coconut.
Lowkey didn't know he could smell like baked goods cuz like all his lotions previous were all scentless.
So you telling him he could've smelt like cherry pies?? Or Strawberry pound cake?
In the same line if using Mc's lotion Ace would love using her perfume cuz sometimes he wanna smell like 'Hawaiian Ginger' than 'Evergreen Musk' after basketball practice.
Deuce
He doesn't put much thought into getting one of Mc's scrunchies then Ace makes a big deal about it and it's all downhill from there. Won't out right ask but he's staring Hella hard at Mc's wrists when he see her wearing one.
"D-do you want it?" "Yes…"
He often used his mom's lotion but they were all old lady scents and Ace bullied him into changing lotions.
Loves Mc's Unicorn Fruit body butter sadly she had to tell him the body butter isn't edible.
nobody cannot change my mind this man uses axe body spray. Everyone knows a dude who axe bombed the hallway in between periods and that guy is Deuce.
he wont ask for it everyday but Mc's bold bloom spray collection reminds him of his mom.
Jack
Pretends he doesn't care when Mc comes to him to complain about how the others are taking her scrunchies.
The day Mc gives him her scrunchie he is so happy but he'll never admit it out loud..
"If you don't want it Jackie I can tak-" "NO! N..no.."
He's lived in the mountains in the Land of Pyroxene and in the Savanaclaw dorm.. so he's used to being dried and chapped but he'd only ever used some shit likr o'keeffes.
then he saw Mc put some shea butter on her elbows during PE but she ended up putting to much on her hands and asked if he wanted some
holy shit the shea butter agave lotion Mc let him use.. Jack never felt so nice and soft.
NATURAL MUSK ALL THE WAY BABY
again like Deuce but for special ocations he'll ask for anything with lavender or aromatherapy
Epel
Huffs and puffs about it. He stares longingly at Mc's wrists anytime he sees her wearing one.
"I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS MC!" "What..?"
He's literally the only one who uses it as a hair tie, he totally shows it off to Jack when they in classes.
It was a while before he used Mc's lotion but got over himself when she called him dusty in earshot of Vil.
Loves Mc's cocoa butter and Vaseline but hates cuz during fall-winter Vil got in the habit of slathering Vaseline all over his face(hated when my mama died that)
it'll be a cold day in hell before he uses Mc's perfume he'd hafta be desperate to ask to use some.
like if he forgor to shower after magicshift practice and has a meeting with vil he'd ask for that flowerbomb perfume.
Sebek
Yeah he totally doesn't care Mc gave everyone else her scrunchie.. only the common whores do that. He so doesn't care… it's not like he's crying himself to sleep over some fabric and rubber. Yeah cuz he's not losing sleep because of that.
"Mc please be a dear and give the poor boy a scrunchie he's in shambles." "Oh.. okay Lilia…"
So Mc just grabs his hand and puts it on him. 404 Sebek just fuckin crashed. it's funny seeing someone like Sebek wear a green floral print scrunchie.
You crazy if you don't think Sebek lathers himself with lotion; he gotta be presentable to WAKA-SAMA.
But lowkey likes the shea butter it mixes well with the cologne he uses.
he's another it will be a cold day in hell before he asks for some perfume, but then again a sucker for anything aromatherapy
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland headcanons#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#ace trappola#deuce spade#jack howl#epel felmier#sebek zigvolt#female!mc x twisted wonderland#fem!mc#implied poc reader#this shit brought back some memories#shocky still hasnt given me back my bonnet#or my pick#still kinda salty
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scrambled thoughts about s4 bc I'm losing my goddamned MIND
just finished s4 of Doctor Who. quick question: how the hell do you go on without Rose Tyler? I can't even imagine I literally. what.
like once s3 rolled around I really fuckin realized I was apparently very much watching this show for ROSE and her dynamic with the Doctor, not the Doctor himself or whatever else lmaoo
ONLY Rose has made me bawl my eyes out, let alone even tear up at all. I just can't even fathom being able to connect with any other plot or character like I did with her and her love for the Doctor.
I just ohh for all of s3 most of s4 I just missed her so much??? like Martha and Donna are great (well, I didn't like Martha at first and you can definitely guess why based on all of this but once s4 rolled around she was great!! loved her) but oh my god they were just no Rose Tyler.
plus WOW I really got so attached to her relationships with other people?? like Donna and Martha's families n whatnot made me feel NOTHING whereas I could not get enough of Jackie and adored Mickey (Mickey is family. he is. I don't care if he's her ex or whatever. he's part of the family). Captain Jack Harkness my one true love (btw just sayin I really think Rose and the Doctor should've gotten a hello kiss. maybe not the Doctor he did not deserve one for leaving Jack but Rose did!! hello!!! you gave them "I'm going to go die" kisses give them "hello we're all still alive missed you" kisses!!!). idk if maybe I was just so clocked out of s3-4 that I missed something but I swear those two just had like no really compelling personal relationships outside of the Doctor, and maybe like one specific family member (lookin at you, gramps).
the fact that Rose ended up liking Martha and Donna though??? dfindsnjdj dying dying DYING I love that she would've been friends with them both. they deserved to all sit and gossip about the Doctor like she did with Sarah Jane right in front of his face.
also oh my god no one why why why please PLEASE I'm not used to consuming sad media I try and avoid it as much as possible and this show is just. just. oh my god.
Rose is so close to what she truly wanted. she'll have a life with the Doctor, but not her Doctor and not the life she fought so hard to get back. instead she's still still still stuck in Pete's World, unable to travel across time and space and save the universe with her Doctor (and don't get me wrong, I love the idea of Tentoo, but it just rubs me the wrong way no matter how I try and look at it. it feels like when a character's memories are erased. they're still technically themselves, but something important is missing all the same. and that thing missing is the TARDIS in this case Tentoo is the best thing she could've gotten lol). I feel like I can't even adequately put it into words why her ending makes me as upset as it does I just hope you Get It. I don't think it would've been good for her to not have ANY other solid relationships like she would've had if she'd gone with the Doctor but also oh my god. oh my god.
and the Doctor is once again without his brilliant, fantastic Rose.
I really hope she doesn't come back though unless it's on her own terms, because she missed her friends or smth. I really hope she's able to travel the world and it be enough for her as long as she's got Tentoo by her side. I really, really hope she's happy and fully in love with Tentoo and they are living the BEST life they can.
Fuck. this SHOW.
#if this is incomprehensible well. ngk. that's how my brain feels rn#came for David Tenntant but stayed solely for Rose Tyler <3#I'm still gonna try and watch on but I won't be too surprised if I end up dropping it#I need it to be known my reaction to JE was so violent and loud I thought for a second cops were going to be called on me#I didn't just shout or cry or anything I SCREAMED ahahaha it sounded like someone was being MURDERED#the only reason Doomsday didn't have me toppling over putting holes in my walls was because I wasn't alone I stg#do you know how hard it is to silently sob?? I am not good at it. in fact I am so bad I couldn't I wailed I wailed#I did not cover everything here but I got the gist of most of it#so sorry martha and donna but I just. whew. I just did not care at all#timepetals#tenrose#tentoorose#tenth doctor#rose tyler#tentoo#doctor who
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