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sinnoman · 3 years

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Letting Diavolo Go To The Human World Is The Same As Letting The Pigeon Drive The Bus… Do Not Do It!

tw: cursing. also, minus luke.

The Demon Prince’s fascination of the human world wasn’t a new thing to you. However, it did surprise you how much he did not know of the customs and cultures humans had. He’s centuries older than you can imagine and he’s never impulsively gone up there before?

When you asked him about it, he gave you wide grin. “I’ve only gone up there for conferences and meetings. I’ve never gone up there simply to have fun. I have so much work and it takes up too much time.”

You frowned a little disheartened that Diavolo hasn’t been able to experience or enjoy a trip to the human world without it being work related. You were about to suggest a proposition as Barbatos added on, “Speaking of conferences, your four o’clock meeting is about to start in ten minutes, Young Master.”

The bright smile on Diavolo’s face fell a little. “I’m sorry, MC, our weekly tea has to be cut a little short.” You reassured him it was no problem as he got up from his seat and walked you to the door. He told Barbatos to escort you to the House of Lamentation. The minute Diavolo was out of earshot, Barbatos leaned towards your ear with a strained smile on his face.

“The Young Master is able to do what he wants. However, no matter what he does, do not let him go to the Human World by himself and with no motive.”

You didn’t understand why Diavolo wasn’t allowed to go up there without being supervised. He was a grown man and the literal Future King of Hell. Surely, he could take care of himself. So a few days later you asked him if the two of you could to the Human World together and he agreed. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, you were wrong. You were so wrong!

It’s been less than twenty-four hours and now the both of you are sitting in a jail cell. Your left hand was sticky, your clothes were damp with rainwater and you were sure the guard kept eyeing you up and down as if you were insane. Diavolo sat next to you with a guilty look on his face. He mouthed a “sorry” at you, making you giggle while tearing up at the predicament you both were in. He could only laugh with you as you laugh and cry at the same time.

When the guard had told you were allowed one phone call (courtesy to Diavolo for compelling him to do so) you immediately headed towards the jail phone and punched in the number. You were a little surprised that the Devildom phone numbers worked but you didn’t really dwell on the thought.

You just hoped the person you called would bail the both of you out.

LUCIFER

Sigh…

Someone get him five shots.

When you called Lucifer to tell him that you and Diavolo went to the Human World for a day trip, he was hoping you were going to ask him if he wanted anything before the both of you came back.

What he wasn’t expecting was (in less than 24 hours) for you to tell him not only have the both of you created an unnatural phenomenon, you managed to commit three felons, crashed a car that neither of you have a license to drive and managed to get caught of all things.

When you told him that you got arrested he was debating on letting you go to prison so you could learn your lesson. Then he heard Diavolo’s voice in the back and started choking on his wine.

How in the three realms did Diavolo managed to get arrested? And how did you (the one he thought was as responsible as him) allow this to happen? What do you mean you let Diavolo drive the car? He has a butler for a reason, MC, obviously hE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE—

Was about to lecture you about the danger you put yourself (Diavolo) in and what the consequences when he heard Diavolo’s, “I don’t want to go back.”

Immediately gathers everyone to go and pick you both up. Has the bail money ready to go, makes sure he thinks of everything that can go wrong and gives it a solution and prepares to drag Diavolo out that jail cell himself.

When he gets there he gives you a glare that could soil cheese in 2.5 seconds.

When he goes to bail you both and the guard tells him you both can’t be released tonight, he snaps. Immediately threatens the guards with the unholiest torture threats you’ve ever heard. The guard ends up caring a little less about his job and a little more about his life and let’s you both go.

Diavolo doesn’t leave the cell. Father help him, his patience is running thin.

The next two hours is just him, Barbatos and Diavolo arguing.

“Young Master, for the last time. Get out the cell.” “NO!” “Can we just leave him—” “Quiet, Belphegor! We cannot leave him. Lord Diavolo GET OUT THE CELL!”

MAMMON

Impressed but at the same time mostly concerned.

When you told him what happened, his face started to get paler with each word. How did the two of you manage to do all this in less than a day? And here he thought he was a troublemaker…

Then the words finally process in his head. “Ya got in a car crash?! Human what we’re ya thinkin’? What if ya died? I don’t care who was drivin’ I’m never letting ya near a car again!”

Looking and thinking for someway to profit off of this. Then realizes, as the appointed human watcher, if Lucifer found out that he let you get arrested ON TOP of Diavolo being there with you while he made money off of it, his head would be ripped off.

In a state of fear in panic for both his life and yours, he goes to pick you both up alone.

It’s not his first time encountering the police. He’s been arrested before for illegal gambles, dealing, fights and such its not hard to guess what for. He will tell you though that he’s actually not the first brother to get arrested.

When he gets there the first thing he does is rush to you and make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t really care that Diavolo is there too. He just has to make sure that you are okay. All human parts are intact? Okay. Good. Let’s go.

Then the guard tells him that he can’t let you both leave yet because you need to be trialed.

Uh oh. Frustrated Mammon is here.

Immediately starts arguing with the guard. He gets so angry he’s about to start throwing punches. That’s until the guards throws a handcuff on him and shoves him in the cell with you.

He gets a phone call too, though.

You tell him to call Lucifer or Barbatos and then Diavolo tells him not to call either of them because he really doesn’t want to go back. Suddenly, Diavolo and him are best friends.

You command him to call Lucifer though and he bites his lip. The ringing of the jail phone has his heart pounding. When the phone connects, the words spill and he mentally cursing at you.

Long story short, Lucifer is the one that gets you both out and leaves Mammon there.

LEVIATHAN

Immediately asks you why you called him of all people. Doesn’t hesitate to try and refer you to someone else.

Then immediately remembers it’s like that this is exactly like that one anime where the—

When you told him why you got arrested he got extremely nervous, ESPECIALLY when he heard Diavolo’s voice in the back correcting you when you left a detail or two out. Not because he’s of the intensity of the crimes but, because he knew Lucifer would absolutely strangle you.

Is already panicking and looking for a solution. Is trying to remember what his brothers had done when he got arrested. (Spoiler Alert! He was the first brother out of all of them to get arrested. He punched a child in the face at an anime convention. The kid snitched and told his mom, cough cough, little shit, cough cough. Does he regret it? Nope! In his opinion, the kid deserved it.)

He voices his anger when he realizes that he has to use manga money to bail you both out. How could you do this to him? He thought you were his Henry. Turns out you’re just a fish…

He blogs and video records the minute he gets up there. It’s going to go viral, he just knows it. Then he gets a message from Lucifer with a smiley face and a link to his blog and he’s panicking. He has to get you two out of there. NOW!

Simply just throws money at the guard, not really caring if you two can’t leave just yet. He’s getting you two out of there one way or another before Lucifer gets here. Listen MC he doesn’t care that he’s making things worse, he refuses to die without having his 93849281849th Ruri-Chan marathon.

Then the dilemma of Diavolo not wanting to leave hits him and his patience is running thin. Why of all people did you have to get arrested with the person needed most in the Devildom?

It becomes too late when he finally manages to start convincing Diavolo to come back home. Lucifer walks through the door.

And Levi summons Lotan.

SATAN

Mr. Agent of Chaos #1 is so proud and impressed with you.

Don’t get him wrong, he was worried about you. Getting arrested and caught for your crimes is a big deal. Yet, you managed to commit three felonies before you got caught? Love, he’s invested.

He has so many questions for you. What felonies did you commit? What was your favorite felony? How’d you get caught? What do you think was the first mistake you made that got you behind bars? If you could do this all over again do you think you would get caught? Here, let him get a pen and paper so you can tell him every little detail of what happened so he can make it fool proof for you.

Then, he here’s Diavolo say he’d be glad to provide the details of what happened and now he realizes what the big issue is.

Oh he can’t wait to hold this against Lucifer’s head. Wait, let him go tell Belphie!

He has everything prepared and is ready to bail you out. You knew he was reliable.

If you see him take a picture of the two of you curled up together in the cell. It’s for research purposes. Totally not for Belphie and him to hold against Lucifer. You can’t tell him to delete it, his printer is already making hundreds of copies.

Turns out Satan isn’t as reliable as you thought. This is because five minutes and a broken desk later, he’s thrown in cell too.

He knows he should get a call too but the guard doesn’t tell him he gets one. Starts cursing so quickly you can’t even make out the words he’s saying.

When Diavolo tells him it might be better that he doesn’t get a phone call, it clicks in his head. Who needs to be bailed out when you can just escape, duh.

He doesn’t even get to the good part when he sees his brothers, Simeon, Solomon, and Barbatos walk through the door. Turns out Belphie’s sleep talking doesn’t have a filter.

He gets a little upset after this whole ordeal. He didn’t even get to try his escape plan…

ASMODEUS

Honey, he can’t relate. It sucks to suck.

Like Lucifer, he has never been arrested. He’s been close to but whenever that happens he just distracts the police from doing it… wink wink.

He knows and seen how stingy police can be with arresting people so he immediately feels for you. And when you’re telling him why you’re in a jail cell, he immediately starts getting ready to come charm you out of that cell. Then he hears Diavolo’s voice.

On second thought…

He immediately has thoughts on how Lucifer would react if he found out he were some how involved in this. Yeah… no, he rather have skin blemishes for the rest of his life.

No matter how nervous he is, he marches his perky butt up there and goes to get you both.

When he gets there he immediately goes to baby you. Checking for any injuries and makes comments on how you’re wet and such. Then he takes in his surroundings.

You’ve been here for how many hours? Oh no. Honey, look. There’s rust everywhere, unidentifiable liquids on the ground. Ew, is that a dead roach caught in a spiderweb? Why were you sitting on the small bench they had? Do you know how many gross people sit on it too? Don’t even get him started on the smell of this cell. Once the both of you go home, straight to the bath.

He goes to pay the bail but then the guard tells them they can’t leave just yet. He knows it’s time to work his magic.

You owe him. The guard is grimy and smells like he hasn’t showered in months. Not only that they’re very persistent at about their job. Charming them is taking longer than he originally had planned.

And then he realizes that Lord Diavolo does not want to leave. Oh boy.

Explains that Lord Diavolo can go anywhere he wants after this, he doesn’t care. That was until you interrupted him saying neither of you can leave without him. He really starts to stress. Why did this have to happen to him?

Somehow and in someway, the both of you manage to convince the redhead to go home. When you get to the House of Lamentation, he’s pulling you straight to his bathroom.

BEELZEBUB

You made him drop his macaroons… his macaroons. He just got them… :(

He is so confused on how you managed to do all of this in a short amount of time? Then he realizes what you just said and he starts stress eating. Poor baby, you kinda regret calling him because it really stresses him out.

“What do you mean you got into a car crash? Are you okay? Are you sure? Don’t worry I’m coming to get you.”

Then he hears Diavolo’s “take your time” and now he’s really stress eating. Not only does he have to bail you out, he has to bail out Lord Diavolo too? Oh boy, the amount of stress you’ve given him is making him have stomach tremors.

He was thinking about getting the both of you alone. Then he started having thoughts of all the human world food and realizes he wouldn’t be able to go alone without getting distracted. So, he brings Belphie to keep him on track.

His frown grows deeper when he sees the two of you curled into each other in the corner of the cell. He ignores how Belphie’s laughing and taking pictures of you both before walking over to you two.

He didn’t bring any bail money. Like Levi, ignores how the guard is saying that they can’t let the both of you leave. Simply pushes the guard off of him when they try to stop him. He also rips the bars from the ground and throws them aside. C’mon, we’re leaving.

Then Diavolo doesn’t want to leave and that’s where Beel gets upset. He’s hungry, Lord Diavolo. He doesn’t have time to be fooling around. His stomach his about to make earthquakes.

In less than three seconds, he’s now playing tug-a-war with Diavolo. Trying to ignore the empty promises of royal dinners the Prince is throwing at him.

“Lord Diavolo, we’re leaving!” “I will let you have anything you want to eat from the Palace is you let me stay!” “WE ARE LEAVING!”

BELPHEGOR

He knew he should have slept through the phone call.

He was actually wondering where you were. You missed their daily nap session. If he wasn’t too tired, he would have gone looking for you earlier.

When you explain to him what happened there’s two opposing sides to his thought. On one hand he’s like “What do you mean you committed three felonies?” in an amusing way. Lowkey is kinda proud. The most he’s been arrested for is fight with some mom who told him he couldn’t sleep at some park with his pillow.

On the second hand he’s like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COMMITTED THREE FELONIES?” He’s stuck on the part on how you could have died in less than 24 hours. He’s more angry at the fact you’re making him worried about you then at the fact he has to go pick you up.

When he went to go get Beel so they could go pick you up, Mammon overheard and started making a whole commotion. You can only guess what happened next when eight demons, a sorcerer, and an angel showed up at the police station.

When he sees not only you behind bars, but Diavolo too, he’s really wishing he slept through your call.

He snaps when the guard tells him he can’t go home with you just yet. Starts picking a fight the guard. It’s a screaming match before it turns into fist fight. He’s not leaving here until he makes a point Lucifer. He’s winning this fight one way or another! You can’t stop him!!

When he hears that Diavolo doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t care. He drags you out the cell and leaves the Prince there. Lucifer can deal with him. He just wants to go home.

When you guys do finally get to go home, he’s covered in scratches and a couple of bruises. He’s using you as a body pillow tonight whether you like it or not.

DIAVOLO

He’s so happy.

He doesn’t care that he’s committed serious crimes and is now sitting in this jail cell. He also doesn’t really care that it could potentially hurt his reputation as a ruler. He’s so happy he’s got come up here and do things he’s never done before. And he’s most happy that he got to do this with you!

And although it’s mostly his fault, he pretends as if none of it matters and keeps reliving the moments in head. (He’s sorry, truly. But when he gets so excited he just simply forgets about everything else and focuses on what he wants to do. Laws and regulations; out the window. It’s Diavolo time!)

At first you were more than a little upset with him. But then he couldn’t contain himself and started telling you about what happened today as if you weren’t there. The words are coming out his mouth so fast it gets to a point where he gets all tongue tied and he’s barely saying words.

He tells you every single detail all over again and every emotion he felt within that moment and thought he had too. And the more and more he speaks, that anger you felt diminishes. You’re happy that he’s happy and enjoyed himself although this day hadn’t particularly gone to plan.

Even when Barbatos and Lucifer come to pick you both up, he’s smiling through it. Especially when they both are lecturing you, it goes through one ear and out the other. He’s glad he was able to experience this.

Oh and don’t think it’ll stop here. He basically tries to convince you to go with him again.

BARBATOS

Longer sigh…

He warned you.

He told you not to do it and look what happened. He hopes you learned your lesson.

He also knew this was going to happen regardless of his warning. He tried preventing it, really. But no matter what alterations he made to the timeline, you both still ended in a jail cell.

When you told him what chaos the both of you have caused in less than a day, his anxiety spikes. You let Lord Diavolo drive a car? Of course he’s going to tell you he knows how to drive. Just because he tells you doesn’t mean he actually knows MC—

He’s upset with you but at the same time he feels for you too. He knows how his Young Master gets when he’s too excited. There’s nothing stopping him, he’s really the definition of one-track minded.

He tells you to give him a few seconds to gather a few things before hanging up. You thought it was going to take a half hour at most but then Barbatos is walking through the station door three seconds later.

The guard lets the both of you go willingly and with no money. You suspect it’s Barbatos doing and when you ask him about it, he acts as if he knows nothing.

Actually, he covers the entire mess completely by altering time. He can’t have people finding out Lord Diavolo had gotten arrested by human authorities, can he now? Nothing pops up when you search for news reports on the web.

He lets Lucifer deal with your punishment as he deals with Lord Diavolo’s. However, he does lecture you about it the next time he sees you. Oh, and the two of you alone together? Never happening again.

SOLOMON

You don’t get to finish your explanation before he’s laughing in your face.

Mr. Agent of Chaos #2 is so amused by this, he wants to hear exactly how you got yourself in this mess. He’s even more surprised that you allowed yourself to get caught. You have pacts with seven demon lords and you thought to not use any of them?? This is more entertaining than Asmo at a frat house.

WAIT DID HE JUST HEAR LORD DIAVOLO’S VOICE TOO?

He starts laughing even harder. The Demon Prince got arrested too? This is comedy gold. Wait a little while longer, he needs to document it for future references. Quick question: what type of unnatural phenomenon did the two of you create? Describe it to him.

He knows what the police are like but never has had to deal with them himself. He can’t be shady if he hasn’t avoided the police for a decade or so. What? He got tired of paying taxes…

He goes alone. When he sees you and the large demon smiling at you he starts to laugh again. It’s to the point where he’s wheezing and bending over. He wipes tears from his eyes afterwards. This is priceless. Please let him take a selfie with the both of you in the back.

He goes over to magically open the cell until the guard tells him he can’t do that and you guys can’t leave. He looks over at the guard and mumbles a few words in latin. Now the guard’s a duck, great. Nice going, Solomon.

When Diavolo tells him he particularly doesn’t want to go back the Devildom, Solomon doesn’t care. He can do what he wants as long as he can take you back with him. But when you tell him to help you convince the Prince to go back home, he sighs.

He threatens Diavolo about calling Simeon to come get him and the redhead is glaring at him but still walks out the cell. Great! Now everyone can go home!

So about that the phenomenon….

SIMEON

Three words: What the fuck?

How did any of this happen? When did any of this happened? What do you mean it happened today? The day’s barely ended! You got into a car crash? Are you okay?

Voices his concerns, deeply. Makes you feel so guilty about what happened today you start crying while the jail phone is pressed against your ear. Diavolo can only rub your back as he listens to Simeon thoroughly explain to you on why what you did was wrong and that you’re lucky he isn’t Lucifer.

He then hears Diavolo’s “Maybe calling Simeon was a bad idea.” Oh. Now he’s really upset. Doesn’t understand how Lord Diavolo allowed this to happen. You could have died, he’s not ready to see you in the Celestial Realm just yet! He tells you to pass the phone to the Demon Lord and you can’t imagine what Simeon is telling Diavolo that’s making him so pale. It’s your turn to rub his back.

When you get the phone back, Simeon tells you to sit tight and he’s coming to get you.

When he does get there, the frown on his face makes you feel even more guilty than on the phone. You could even Diavolo go stiff beside you.

When the guards tells him that the both of you aren’t allowed to leave, he’s super close on letting the both of you suffer the consequences. Yet, he tries to make the guard more lenient by guilt tripping him too.

When he hears that Diavolo doesn’t want to go back, it doesn’t take much for him to convince the Prince to go back home. All he does is glare at him and the redhead is walking out the cell with nervous chuckles.

When the three of you go back to the Devildom, he makes the both of you explain to Lucifer and Barbatos as to what happened within the last hour and why he had to go and pick you up.

TAGS: (sorry this is really long.. also don’t mind the grammatical errors I wrote this on my phone and actually less than 24 hours)

@beels-burger-babe

@mammonsemptycreditcard

@obeythebutler

@minteyeddevil

#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me headcanons #otome game #crack headcanons #crack taken seriously #crimes #diavolo please why can’t you just behave?#diavolo and mc adventure number one #a study of firsts: a series

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theghostofblackbunnymask · 3 years

Note

can you pls write alphabet for yandere fundy ty and ily!!!

Author's note- Little furry boi, I really want more Las Nevadas Crew request

Warnings- Obsession, Worship, mental abuse, Psychological torture, physical abuse, panic attacks (Fundy), lack of freedom, guilt tripping, and fear

Yandere Fundy Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Fundy would be very touch starved, so he would cuddle you, kiss you, and just pick you up and carry you around.

But if Fundy couldn't touch you, he would give you gifts of things you like, he'll spoil you rotten.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Fundy can be pretty messy. His main method is quite simple, he'll just slash the person in the back with his claw like nails and then claw them to death.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Fundy wouldn't want to to treat you badly, he doesn't want to be like his father, and just the thought of it makes him sick.

Fundy would treat you with respect and will respect your boundaries, but if you don't like being touched, well I'm sorry because this furry boy will NEVER let you go.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

I mean, possibly touching you if you don't like being touched. Oh, and not taking you outside, he'll only take you to Las Nevadas since you two live there, but even then he'll watch you like a hawk.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Fundy is pretty vulnerable, everyone basically left him, he can't loose you too. So if anyone threatened his Darling, he would fucking beat them to a pulp until someone pulls him off.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Pretty disappointed, he's given you everything, besides freedom, but who needs freedom anyways when you have someone to think and do things for you. He'd most likely just lock you in your room until you behave.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This. Isn't. A. Fucking. Game. This man would go into straight fucking panic the moment he find out, he may even have a panic attack. But after that he'll calm down and using his fox sense of smell to find you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Picture this:

You just said to Fundy that he was just like his father, and that, that would break him. All of his common sense, all of his self control and all of his sympathy and empathy are all gone.

"Just like Wilbur? HAHAHAH, you think Wilbur would do something like this... Oh... I'll show you what he would do if I'm just like him!"

Fundy would pin you you down and start punching you, and they he would start to claw at your face, and he would only stop when he looks at his hands, all of it covered in blood. Fundy would look at your passed out and limp body with so much regret. He would patch you up while crying and cuddle you saying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right... I'm just like Wilbur..."

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Living in Las Nevadas with no worries. No more wars, no more Dream, no more Wilbur. Just peace.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Fundy gets jealous quite easily, and when he does he starts to get rude to the person and insult them until they run off crying. If you were to ask what was that for, he'd just say that he was protecting you and that they were just going to use you for their own disgusting desires.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Pretty soft, he'd do whatever you want and treat you like absolute royalty. But don't take him for a push over, the moment he sees your taking advantage of his kindness and generosity, he'd lock you in a room with no food and no water, just so you learn that his kindness and generosity is a privilege, so treat it as such.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Fundy would be so blush around you, he would send you love letters and gifts anonymously, and would watch you when you open them, wanting to see your reaction to his gifts, seeing you happy makes him so happy.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, no, but he is 10x softer.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Fundy would never want to hurt you physically or emotionally on purpose, he doesn't want to be Wilbur 2.0

Key words are- Physical or Emotionally.

This man will definitely use some psychology shit on you. Have you heard of white room torture? He would definitely do that. This man would harm you mentally, but he could never harm you physically, cause whenever he sees the scars he starts to cry, seeing himself as a disgusting monster.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Freedom and freedom of speech. God forbid you mention or say the name Wilbur around him, this man would go insane and beat you to a pulp, before regaining his composure, patching you up, and crying while cuddling you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Fundy's pretty patient, he understands that love takes time, trust, and that it can be cruel. He'll give you all the time in the world for you to love him, there's no need to worry.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you were to escape, he would find you within a few hours, and then drag you right back while ranting and guilt tripping you about how much pain you caused him.

Now if you died, he'd be heartbroken, he wouldn't even take care of himself anymore and would just let his nightmares consume him, and juust allow himself to wake up from those nightmares.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Fundy would know it's wrong to hold people hostage, but he just wants to protect you, they're too much bad and terrible people on this server and he doesn't want you to fall victim to them, so if kidnaping keeps you safe, then I guess that's what he must do, love hurts, but it'll be worth it in the end.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

☆PEOPLE LEAVING HIM☆ So whenevethe starts to fall for someone or befriend someone, he'd do anything for them not to leave him, but if they abuse or mistreat him, he'd drop and let them go.

Tears: How do they feel about their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Fundy would feel terrible if he made you cry, he would beg you to stop while apologizing. But if someone else made you cry, he would threaten the person.

If you were to yell at him, he may get scared since it reminds him whenever people got upset with him, mainly Wilbur, so Fudny would just back away scared before running off.

If you were to isolate yourself, he would tell you it isn't healthy and that you should talk to him if he or someone else did something wrong.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Not really sure.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

A few things actually.

His obsession with you, if you act like you're obsessed with him, you may be able to escape.

His desperate attempts to not be like Wilbur, if you continue to assure him he isn't like Wil, you could gain his trust and escape.

Using guilt tripping against him, make him feel bad and he'll give you more freedom, then you could escape.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Fundy has outbursts sometimes and during those times he can't control himself, leading him to hurt you. He doesn't mean to though.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

A lot of lengths, he basically worships the ground you walk on and would do anything for your love, affection and approval.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

1 year.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Fundy doesn't want to break you, he could never live with that.

#yandere dream #yandere dream smp #yandere dream x reader #yandere mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #dreamsmp x reader #fundy x reader #Yandere Fundy #Yandere Fundy x reader

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

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"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist.

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib).

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that).

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism?

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent.

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

#ask #tom riddle #voldemort #anon

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junova · 3 years

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↬ 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract — steve professes his love for you then disappears for three months. what happens when he returns?

pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader

wc — 2.7k

warnings — 18+ DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR, heavy smut, daddy kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cockwarming if u squint, cussing, angst, fluff.

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! this is for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes , and @amythedvdhoarder hoelentine’s fic swap! sorry this is a day late pls dont come for me and i did not proof read this so i apologize for future readers suffering thank u

my giftee was one of the insanely talented writers on this app — @donutloverxo ! hope you like it berry! <3

It had been months since you’d seen him. An undercover mission taking longer than originally thought left you feeling lonelier to your own surprise. You blamed it how the two of you left things unresolved. Out in the open, all of his feelings laid out on a silver platter for you to take.

All of it. Steve, his love, the moment of words you’d dreamed of him saying — it was too real. Too unimaginable to believe. He always is.

You’d never really had someone you who went out of their way everyday to make you feel loved and Steve did. Truly, you should have seen it sooner. The consistency of his adoration and loyalty blew the limits of platonic friendship. Not until, he was nearly crying, choked up by his own words did you realize just how much it ran deep within him.

The words he spoke to you were still echoing in the forefront of your mind, not letting you breath for a moment. Were you really in love with him just as much as he was with you? It was hard to believe just because Steve was so far out of reach. Especially for you.

Watching his beautiful shade of cerulean, bright and beaming with hope, wanting nothing more than to for you to see him. Leaving him the impression that you didn’t cut the two of you deep. Your answer was hesitant, full of caution. Exactly the opposite for what he was yearning for.

Now, just like you had done for the past couple of weeks, you found yourself waiting in the tower for him. You lingered around no matter how many times Tony told you they would let you know when he was home safely. It didn’t stop you from coming, though.

Even if you knew it would be even longer until you would get to finish the conversation with him, being her helped you feel more at ease. Plus, no one’s besides Tony had the guts to try and make you leave.

Natasha and Sam were the only ones who didn’t really question it. Ever since you met Steve, you were here so often but they just so happened to be walking down the hall when he confessed exactly how wide his affection ran for you.

As they watched you linger in the tower, even if the outcome had been different than Steve wanted or expected, Sam and Nat were starting to see just how much you cared for him.

Natasha was the one to catch you silently sleeping in one of his sweatshirts cuddled up into his sheets. Thankfully, still smelling like him just enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Then, Sam caught you peeking at the framed picture of the two of you sitting on his desk, the only one which did. Admiring the way you let your fingers drift around the wooden frame, endearingly. Internally, continuing to fight this inner battle within you.

“If it makes it any easier, I’m sure he misses you just as much.” You peaked up at the tone of Wilson’s voice, making his presence known. He walked over to you, watching as you continued to look at the photo.

Your smile wide at your college graduation, ball and gown, wearing a dress you knew Steve liked with his arms wrapped around your waist in a truly candid moment, one you’d forgotten about. The picture more than likely buried so deep within your phone with the countless others you had taken of and with him.

“I wish it did, but it doesn't really. Just wish I knew he was okay. I worry a bit too much, I think.” You spoke softly, halfway speaking to Sam but you mostly just spoke to yourself. “I never knew he kept this photo of us here.” Your touch finally disconnects from the sturdy frame.

“He really thinks too sweetly of me.” Standing in his office, surrounded by all of his belongings made it so much harder for you to cut ties like you had originally wanted to do. “Really? Couldn’t tell by how he talks about you constantly.”

“Oh my god, Sam.” You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your tummy, but anytime Steve was mentioned it seemed to be an effect he only seemed to pull from you. “What? C’mon, all of us know he was planning on telling you how he felt before Bucky and him left.”

Well, it seemed the embarrassment only seemed to continue.

“All of you, even Tony?” You asked him, even if you knew the answer. You just wanted the attention off you. “Especially Tony. Why do you think he’s been more of a smartass lately?” It made sense, but it did nothing to calm the nerves threatening to boil over.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing everyone knew how he felt, but me. I just never thought he would ever feel this way again, about anyone, after Peggy. She was the love of his life and it’s not something I couldn’t possibly measure up to.” You stopped looking at the picture, feeling sick to your stomach.

“With all of what he’s told me, I’ll always feel second best to her because I know just as everyone else if he could still have her he would.” You saw the sketch one time, when he left it open on the counter. It wasn’t really like you to snoop, but you couldn’t help it one day and you did.

Page after page, it was all of Peggy. Any feelings you were harboring for him at the time were thrown to the wind. Because then, you knew. Now matter how important you were to him now, you would always be in the shadow of his first love. The one that got away from him.

“What makes you think that?” Tears were starting to surface and you couldn’t handle it, the worst of your insecurities creeping in.

“Just ask to look at his compass next time you see him.” But you knew what was there. You didn’t need yet another painful reminder of it. “Why would I torture myself like that, Sam?”

“Trust me. You may be surprised.” You highly doubt you would be, so why even try?

The party was in full swing by the tie you arrived. The tower was full with more people than usual as you stepped in, watching as everyone enjoyed themselves. You were hesitant to even come to Natasha’s celebration at all.

You hadn’t been here since your conversation with Sam. Just a little too worried Steve might catch you lingering in his home and sleeping in his clothes. It was something the both of you did, but now with his feelings laying out in the open it seems so much more intimate than before.

Just as you were about to head towards the bar area, where everyone was, you left a large find your own grabbing your attention.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His velvety, smooth voice makes you melt just like it always does. It didn’t register for a second, just who you were talking to and when you did he was in for it.

“Stevie!” You leaped into his arms, too shocked to mask your sheer excitement as your legs wrapped around his slim waist, letting yourself be caught by him.

“I missed you so much, honey.” His words clenching at your heart at the endearing nickname. You felt him sigh into you, one of relief.

“I missed you, too.” You mumbled while you were still clinging onto him like your life depended on it.

“As much as I want to catch up, I feel like we should talk about what happened before I left.” Already, your heart dropped into your chest.

“Stevie, it can’t wait. Don’t worry about it. Okay?” You tried to rub it off because even after all this time you still weren’t certain of the weight in his words.

You let yourself down, off of him, and tried to lead him in the direction of the party but he didn’t budge.

“Please, work with me here. I’m sure they all miss you and want to see you.” Now, you were just stalling and Steve could see it as clear as day.

“Sweetheart, please just stop for a minute.” He felt your hand fall as you crossed your arms over your chest passively.

“Please, Steve.” You pleaded with him and for a moment you just thought he might go with you until those dating words fell from his plump lips.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Those words effectively shut you up as Steve stepped closer to you.

“I think about if you love me as much as I’ve fallen in love with you.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as he edged closer to you.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much I want to kiss those pouty lips of yours. How much I wanna claim you in every single way.” He was so close to you now, questioning how you were still breathing.

“Just tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go down to that party right now and pretend like this never happened.” When you were silent, looking anywhere but him, he got the hint.

You watched as he walked in the navy clad plants with a button up clinging to his narrow waist.

“Wait!” Even with your heels, you ran to him while he waited for you to catch up.

“Do you still carry your compass on you?” You questioned him with tears in your eyes he hadn’t noticed until now.

And it crushed him.

“Of course I do. Wait...Is this just another crack at how old I really am?” Maybe if you weren’t sure he had just crushed your heart with a single response you might’ve laughed.

“I know this is going to sound weird but can I see it?” Watching him reach for it in his right pocket, you noticed the crimson blush reaching his cheeks.

“I just-, how is this is going to change anything?” Watching him as he awkwardly fidgeted with the object in hand.

“I don’t think it will, but I just need to see it.” He handed it over and you held it for a moment before opening it and nothing could have prepared you for it.

Well, possibly Sam’s words if he had elaborated more.

“I-I know it’s kind of weird. I’m sorry I should have asked when I took that photo but you just looked so beautiful like always and I couldn’t help it. I can take it out if it creeps you out too much.” His words trailed off on a mumbling mess as he was afraid he scared you off.

Even more than before.

“I thought you said Peggy’s photo was in it. Wasn’t it?” This time you were the one getting closer as you pushed back the wet hair away from his face, probably from the shower he’d taken not long after he came back.

“She was, but then I fell in love with you.” He leaned into your touch as both of your hands cradled his face.

“You’re my person. My soulmate. My home. I used to be so angry for so long because I had lost everything I ever loved, but it was all just leading me here. Right in this moment with you.”

You could’ve died happy right then, because the man of your dreams was confessing just on how much he loved you, again.

“Steven Grant Rogers?” You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at the mention of his full name. “Don’t you ever stop loving me. Ever.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He needed nothing more until he was locking his lips with your own. Commanding dominance from the start, causing you to whimper in response.

His skillful tongue sliding into your mouth, causing you to moan even more when he picked you up carrying you into his bedroom.

Before you even realized it, he was recklessly threw you on his bed as he stripped himself down to his boxers. His washboard abs and bulging muscles on full display.

In a flash, he was right back on you worshipping your body, turning you into a moaning mess.

Hiking up your red silky dress until it rested on your hips, your pretty pussy glistening already and he had barely touched you.

Without warning, he slipped two fingers into your warm heat watching as your head flew back. “Oh fuck, daddy.”

The words went straight to his cock as he pumped his finger in and out of you, leaving you begging for me.

“Oh, you like when Daddy’s fucking you with his fingers?” You nodded, unable for anything but moaning his name while he added another finger in you. You're hips moving uncontrollably as he was eye level with you.

Using his free hand, he gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him. “I want you to look at me when you come, princess.” With one swift moment, his thumb rubbed over your clit and you lost it.

Hearing you cry out beneath him as he pushed you over, screaming out his name as he continued to fuck your through the high.

“I need to milk your cock, Daddy. I need you to fill me up with your fucking cum.” He threw his boxers to the wind as he let you maneuver yourself on top.

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you bounce on my cock. Show me how bad you need my cum.” You surely didn’t need to be told twice.

Grabbing his hard cock by the tip, before rubbing over the tip and a few times before letting yourself to sink down until you bottomed out.

“You’re so fucking big. Shit.” But Steve didn’t let you take a breather for a moment until he was fucking up into you. Letting you know who was in complete control.

Until your hands found his hips and you used all your strength to pull almost all the way off of him before sinking roughly on his cock.

“Shit, princess.” As you whimpered you pushed yourself to bounce on his cock, no matter how much pain came with pleasure.

“Look at those tits, princess. You’re so fucking hot fucking yourself on Daddy’s cock. Such a good girl.” But then he flipped over pulling himself out of you before manhandling you on all fours.

Smoothing a hand over your spine, “You’re being such a good girl for Daddy. Let me take care of you.” Wrapping his hand around his thick, cock before finding your slick lower lips.

Rubbing the tip of cock along your folds, watching your body tremble before him. “Daddy, please.” You whined like a spoiled brat, begging for attention.

He’d break you of that later.

But now? He cock was practically dying for a release.

He slowly pushed himself into you, watching as your ass inches towards him more. Then, he was slamming himself into you so roughly you couldn’t fucking breathe.

Grabbing you by the hips, he fucked into you like his life depended on it. Admiring you as you took everything you gave him. The second climax hits you more quickly than you thought.

Steve grabs wraps his arm around you, pulling you up with his cock still thrusting up inside you — chasing his own high.

“I’m going to need you to cum with me, princess.” As he fucked into, your chest against his own and as you heard the slapping of his balls hitting your ass.

“Daddy, I can’t. It’s too much.” You shook your head, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Milk me, Sweetheart. I’m dying to fill you up baby. Let me cum in this tight pussy.” His fingers finding your clit, sending you over the edge.

“Yes. Jesus Christ. Don’t fucking stop.” He continued to fuck you senseless as you came.

“Shit, baby girl. I’m cumming.” Slamming himself hard than before as continued to fuck you into oblivion, his seed filling you up until you the both of you collapsed falling into his soft sheets.

The two of you just stayed there for a while with his cock buried deep beneath you. Soon, enough he pulled out leaving you empty.

He jumped out of bed before comping with a wet rag to clean you up, before pulling you into his chest.

“Okay, I think I might have a Daddy kink.” Making Steve laugh, slightly.

“Yeah, maybe just a little bit sweetheart, not that I’m complaining.”

#omfg this is so ROUGH #but i havent written in like 2 months #so at least we did it!#heck yeah :')#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #stever rogers smut #steve rogers fan fiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #m.writes #happyhoelentinesday2021

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topazy · 3 years

Text

Silent bloom

Pairings: Finn Collins/ Reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: swearing, and character death

Chapter: 2.03

"They want you. If we want a truce, we have to give them Finn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Raven asked, stepping forward.

Clarke avoided making eye contact with any of you, "That’s their offer."

"That’s not an offer," you snapped. "That’s a death sentence."

"It’s punishment," Finn squeezed your shoulder lightly as he brushed past you. "For what happened at the village. Blood for blood."

—

Murphy walked towards where Finn was standing with a complex look on his face. "Hey, man. Byrne actually gave me a gun. I guess we really are screwed, huh? Look, we kicked their asses last time. We’ll do it again."

Finn looked at him blankly and said, "A lot of people died last time."

You chewed on your bottom lip as Bellamy and Finn continued talking, completely zoning out. Would the grounders really take Finn as a trade? The thought made your stomach turn. Your biggest fear right now was that someone would betray Finn and turn him over.

Hearing Clarke’s voice, you looked up again, to see Finn and Bellamy walking in another direction.

"Hey," Murphy said, stepping forward. "Any orders for me, princess?"

The blonde glared at him, "stay away from me."

You were surprised at the look of hurt on his face. "Just trying to be helpful."

It was obviously by the venom in Clarke’s voice that she blamed Murphy for what happened in the village. "You were with him at the village."

"I tried to stop him."

"Not hard enough!"

"You know, you want to start blaming people, Clarke?" Murphy stepped closer to her. "He wasn’t out there looking for me, was he? It’s not my fault he went batshit crazy."

He was out there looking for you.

You stepped in between them, stopping this before it went any further. "Enough! Both of you. Clarke, go do whatever it is you need to do. Yelling, and arguing isn’t helping anyone."

You watched Clarke walk away before turning to face Murphy, who looked slightly guilty. "What?"

"I…I didn’t mean it was your fault."

You shrugged, pretending his words didn’t strike a nerve. "Whatever, we have more important things to think about. Like how the hell we are going to save Finn."

"He’s a dead man walking," Murphy raised his hands defensively when you raised your brows at him. "What? I’m only pointing out the obvious."

You looked back towards the fence, and slowly walked towards it as the chanting got louder. You felt a lump at the back of your throat, as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

Murphy stood beside you, "jus drein jus daun, Jus drein jus daun."

"Blood must have blood."

You looked back around to face Abby, and Jaha who were talking to some guards. "You don’t trust them, do you?"

"Do you?"

Murphy scoffed at your comment. Of course he didn’t. Nobody who has been screwed over by them should.

"Well, angel eyes, if we leave it to them, we are definitely screwed."

"Yeah," you agreed. Besides Abby, none of them would care what happened to Finn. "We’re going to need a miracle to happen."

—

"What’s the plan?" You asked, stopping beside Finn.

"The dropship."

Clarke shook her head. "You know that this is the safest place for him right now.”

"It isn't if they're turning on him," Bellmay pointed out. "We can protect him at the dropship until we figure this thing out. Grab your gear and meet at Raven's gate in five minutes. She’s already working on cutting the power to the fence."

Bellmay was right. Going to the dropship would probably be the safest place for him right now. It would also give you time to try and figure something else out.

"Okay," Finn nodded. "But nobody's coming with me."

You frowned, "of course we are. This isn’t up for discussion."

Clarke pressed her lips together. She still didn’t seem convinced that it was a good idea. "We are surrounded by Grounders."

"It will be easier if we split up." Noticing others starting to shout at a Finn you gripped his arm as Bellamy knocked the boy called Gruff out. "We need to go, now."

—

You nervously gripped the gun tightly, praying you didn’t make too much noise as you walked through the forest.

"I know I’ve said it before, but-"

"Shh," you stared at Finn wide-eyed.

He has been mostly silent since you caught up with him, and now wasn’t the time to start talking. You knew by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to let whatever was on his mind go.

"I was scared... when you disappeared. I thought I’d never get the chance to say I’m sorry, and I needed you to know that I love you."

"Finn," you stopped walking and turned to face him. "We have talked about this. None of it matters now, all that matters is getting you through this. We find a way to save you, and then we rescue Monty and Jasper, along with everybody else who the mountain men took." You let out a small laugh, "Who would have thought it would be grounders that saved me from them? "Ironic, huh."

"What were they like, the grounders who took you?" He whispered.

"Eh…good as far as kidnappers go. They gave me clean clothes, food, and water." You let out a sigh, "I was afraid they were going to torture me like they did Murphy."

“You have a soft spot for him."

"No I don’t."

For the first time in a long time, you saw Finn smile, "Oh my God, you have a crush on him."

Him teasing you reminded you what life was like back on the ark before everything went to shit. It made you almost forget when you were in the forest in the first place.

You shoved Finn’s arm playfully, "shut up. I just feel bad for him."

"You do like Bellamy though."

You shot Finn a look, "let’s not."

"He’s a good guy, he’d keep you safe. I’m sure of it."

"And who’s going to keep you safe from me? Because once this is all over, I have no issue raising hell if you don’t stop teasing me, Collins."

"What do we do after the dropship? Where do we go? You think the Grounders will just leave when they find out I'm gone? Is this the best way to help our friends inside Mount Weather? "

You gave him a sympathetic smile, "will figure this out."

The last thing you remember seeing is the horrified look on Finn’s face as a loud yelling came from behind you.

—

You let out a loud groan as you sat up. Looking around, you were confused. The last thing you remember was walking in the forest.

"Y/N," Clarke knelt down beside you. "Take it easy when you sit up. You got knocked out."

Of course you did.

"How’s your head?" Finn asked as he helped you stand up.

"Never been better."

"It will be another neat scar to add to your collection," Murphy shrugged.

You ignored his comment as Finn spoke to you in a hushed voice. "When you went down... I thought you were dead. Because of me."

"Finn," you say softly. "I’m right here."

"I’ve killed so many people."

You shook your head, "things that we've done to survive... they don't define us."

"What if you're wrong? What if this is who we are now?"

Not knowing what to say to comfort Finn, you pulled him in for a hug at the same time that Bellamy rushed into the drop shop. "We got company!"

"Oh fuck. We’re surrounded."

As everyone made their way to the outside of the ship, Bellmay stopped to face you. "I’m glad you're okay. You had me worried for a moment."

"Thanks. But honestly, I’m still worried."

—

"They’re not moving any closer."

"Staying out of range. Probably waiting until it's dark."

Murphy looked up at him, "If we hit them now, at least we'd take them by surprise."

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Murphy's idea made sense. You didn’t like it, but he did have a point. "The problem is, we don't even know how many of them are out there."

Murphy rolled his eyes, "I’m not hearing any better ideas, Daisy."

Raven stepped forward. "We’ll give them something."

Bellamy looked at her, confused. "All they want is Finn."

Raven looked away from the rest of the group, as her eyes landed on Murphy. "Finn wasn't the only one at the village."

"You can’t be serious! We aren’t handing anyone over to the grounders."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come." A hurt expression crossed over Murphy’s face. "You... That’s why you asked me to come along."

The brunette glared at him. "Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter."

"Sick bitch!" Murphy spat.

Clarke tried to calm her down. "Raven, you don't mean this."

"You know what they do to people?" you said, stepping towards her. "They want Finn, nobody else. We can’t protect him if we are fighting among ourselves.

Raven ignored what you said and pointed her gun towards Murphy. "They want a murderer, we'll give them one."

Hell no.

You shared a knowing look with Finn, before moving to step in front of Murphy. "Raven, this is insane! Put it down."

"Daisy, move out the way, I don’t want to hurt you. Murphy drop your weapon!"

"Raven, stop this before somebody gets hurt!" You yelled back at her. You knew deep down she wouldn’t actually shoot you, but you weren’t so sure about Murphy.

Ravenstill refused to lower her weapon, "I said drop it."

"Stop! Stop!" Finn pushed her hand down so the gun was no longer pointed in your direction. "We're not doing this. They’ve got us surrounded. The only thing we can do is stay. And defend this place. Murphy?"

"Yeah?"

"Go upstairs with Daisy. You two watch the rear. I'll take the lower level. You three, take the front gate. That’s the plan. All right?"

As Murphy walked ahead, you hugged Finn again, saying, "We’ve got this."

"May we meet again."

"We will." You pulled back from him, "I better go make sure nobody else tries to kill him."

"Yeah. Be careful."

—

When you joined Murphy, he glared at you. "Are you insane?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You stepped out in front of me! Raven could have shot you!"

Taken aback by his yelling, you shuffled uncomfortably. "She wasn’t going to-"

Murphy cut you off, "you don’t know that. Don’t ever do something like that for me again. Ever!"

You turned and faced the other direction, to avoid looking at him. Why was he so upset? You were only trying to keep everyone safe.

Hearing yelling, you quickly made your way towards the other side of the ship. "What’s happened?"

Bellamy looked at you with fear in his eyes. "Finn’s handed himself in."

—

You stood on the edge of Camp Jaha by the gates, squinting. Grounders were putting a large post into the ground. "What is that?"

"It’s for Finn," Clarke confirmed. "They want us to watch."

As others talked about what to do next, you noticed Clarke getting ready to leave. "What are you doing?"

"I’m gonna talk to the commander."

"Okay," you stepped beside her. "I’m going with you."

Bellamy stared at you both. "What else do you have to say?"

You sighed. "I don't know, but we need to try."

Raven stepped in front of you. "Give me your hand. If she won't let him go, kill her. Things will go crazy, and we'll grab you and Finn. Daisy, you and Clarke have to help him. I owe him my life."

Before you had a chance to say anything, Raven slipped a small knife into your hand.

—

As you and Clarke walked into the commander's tent, a grounder stepped forward and pressed a spear up against your chest.

Clarke seemed to know who the grounder was. "We are here to talk to your commander. Let us through."

Looking down, you noticed small drops of blood appearing on your top. The grounder has cut you.

"Let them pass," the commander said before looking you up and down. "You bleed for nothing. You cannot stop this."

As Clarke pleaded with Lexa to spare Finn’s life, you noticed Ada standing guard. When she noticed you walking toward her, she frowned. "You are here to beg for the traitor's life?"

"Finn’s my friend. He did an awful thing, something he can’t undo, but torturing him won’t bring anybody else back."

"He killed Zelda."

"I’m sorry…" you whispered. "It’s all my fault. He killed all those people because he thought they had taken me."

"You can’t save him, blood must have blood." Ada said harshly. "If you try to save him, all of your people will die."

Tears spilled onto your cheek. You turned to face the commander, "can I say good-bye?"

The commander paused for a moment before nodding. You were surprised that she was allowing you to talk to him, but you didn’t have time to overthink it. It was probably because of Clarke anyway. You needed to help him. You couldn’t let Finn die by the death of 1000 cuts.

You rushed towards Finn, and kissed him. "I love you, Finn, I never stopped."

"I’m scared."

You wiped tears from his cheek. "You’re gonna be ok. I won’t let you suffer." You kissed him once again, before showing him mercy. "You’re ok."

"Thanks, Daisy."

Stepping back, the only sound you could hear was your own sobs, mixed with Raven's screams, as you stared at Finn’s limp body.

Season two

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jockpoetry · 3 years

Note

supernatural sees women as a tool for development and strengthening of narratives/motivation and dean sees his body as a tool. is that anything?

When I saw this ask I really made the 🥴in real life. So, yeah anon, I do think there’s something to this.

Quick Disclaimer before I actually launch into my thoughts™: A lot of my read of Dean stems from my experience as both an oldest daughter and a transman. Being the oldest daughter was an experience I lived for many years, but I am also a man. I wasn’t raised as a man, I wasn’t socialized as a man, and even though once I came out upon reflection my masculinity was obviously there. Like I was a man™ before I knew I was a man. Even when I actively tied my identity to femininity for a long time! A lot of my prideful moments were based around statements like: “I was the only girl who (fill in the blank).”

So I am just putting that out there before I launch into my spiel about Dean/Gender/Tool because they all interlock for me.

I am also going to apologize in advance because I know this has fully gone off the rails and I’m not even done writing it yet. If this is incomprehensible ! Well, happens to the best of us.

First off, most importantly I guess before we discuss womanhood and Dean and the way both are utilized on the show I need to say that I personally don’t subscribe the whole Dean is female coded thing.

It’s a read I can absolutely understand. But for me..he’s not.

He’s a hypermasculine man to the point that when (and because he is written as a punchline, as the stupid™ brother, as the whore™, as the mother/father™, as daddy’s blunt instrument™, etc) Dean deviates from the pre-accepted definition of hypermasculine it’s Wrong.

It’s Instantly Feminine.

I think the internet has made the world very black and white, or blue and pink maybe. This point, I think, colors a lot of these discussions. Dean cooks, he cleans and so therefor he’s female coded. When that really just feeds back into the whole toxic masculinity loop. You can’t be masculine and cook and clean and cry. That’s for feminine people only.

I get the argument! I do, I just think that Dean’s actions are not inherently feminine, it’s just in the vacuum of Female and in the Absence of Traditional Masculinity it makes sense to assign him female coded and move on.

IN FACT the way that Dean is the action hero of the show, the Masculine™ one on the show - but he cries, and he rages, and he cooks (Again and Again) and cleans (Again and Again). The fact he’s macho and confident but he has so little self esteem. Is frankly insane to me. You have this blaze of glory character who is so depressed that they have him kill himself. Twice. In explicitly “I hate myself, I hate hearing all the things I hate about myself, I want to destroy myself” ways.

On just a regular ol’ network show that is just ungodly bad at times. They let their Male Hero cry - all the time (if I linked every example of this the essay would be...longer than it already is, but just take my word for it). Dean tears up and grieves and shows more than just Angry Horny Violent™ (he shows plenty of that, don’t get me wrong) but he’s Emotional (Again and Again and Again). In many different ways!

I mean, beyond even just tearing up, they make their Male Hero™ face sexual violence in pretty, uniquely horrifying - and queer! - ways.

Let’s make it clear, they did a lot of this unintentionally.

Or they do it as a joke.

Off of dean for a moment to say women are plot devices in this show. I could probably count on one hand female characters who have sincere depth to them that have roles outside of progressing plot, filling a filler episode, and who are still alive. Like even characters such as Charlie who are wholly developed, and interesting, are only remembered/mentioned/utilized to progress plots or fill an episode out - and then she dies. For pain™ for plot™ for no other reason than to traumatize a character.

Which let’s also make it clear Dean’s trauma is also only used as a plot device (as is Sam’s but in a different way, and Cas’ trauma is a whole other barrel of fish we’re not gonna dive into right now). Like wholesale full stop they don’t actually care about what happened to him. Unless it’s relevant in an episode.

Oh that boys home he was left at when he was 16 for months? Sure we’ll sprinkle that in in the back half of the series. Oh he was covered in bruises and said it was from a hunt (when it’s clear contextually they were from his father but saying the fantastical but true is easier than saying the uncomfortable but true). As Dean says though the story became the story, he was sixteen. He just went along with what John said.

We only see Dean ever truly rage at John, by the way, when either Dean is dead (when he’s between life and death and he rages at John, right before John “apologizes” for traumatizing him, for putting too much on Dean’s shoulders, and fucking dying) or John is dead (the Djinn episode where Dean is straight™ and John is dead™ and he goes to his grave and just yells and rages like he should have to his father in the real world).

Dean’s trauma from being both tortured and torturer in hell? Yeah, we don’t talk about that after it’s Relevant™. Even though it’s clear - especially in the demon!dean, mark of cain era, all those years later - Alastair still has his hooks inside of Dean. I stopped watching originally after s8 ended. I was fed up with the show, and with this whole renaissance I’ve been doing a rewatch and I’m into season twelve now and it really has never come up again.

Even when he had the mark of cain and he was tasked with questioning and accused of torturing it was “the mark has changed you” and not “you were victim and victimizer in hell for forty years, which is longer than you’ve been alive on earth” (and, was about as long as he wound up living. Which is desperately sad.

Because we talk about Sam’s desire for a “normal” life but, Dean wanted out too. He was tired in the first few seasons of this show, he never had a chance to taste freedom (we don’t count the boys home, because that was a different kind of regimented life, and it was a false freedom) the way that Sam did in Flagstaff with Bones or at Stanford with Jessica. Love for Dean is sacrificing, it’s putting himself/his happiness/his well-being last.

Because Dean only knows love in the context of violence (like all of these fun examples, for starters) is a phrase that I’ve said a lot both in private chats and on here, and I absolutely think it goes to him being a tool (a blunt instrument, a plot device, so both textually and metatextually) instead of a person. Which Cas sees Dean’s shame/guilt and sees that side of Dean because he touched his soul, and saw more than just the Righteous™ man, more than just the tool, he saw A good man, not a machine.

On the other side though you have how “bad guys” view Dean: Desperate, Sloppy, Needy, Dean’s hole (Again), which is again so wildly counterintuitive to the story of a Macho Man Hero™. You’re using vocabulary that is both queering him and feminizing (and I know this a meme format, but sincerely it is done in a derogatory way it is feminizing. It’s breaking him down to bare parts, to a sloppy hole).

My whole rewatch I have been absolutely fascinated by how identity and free will is utilized/conceptualized on this show. Castiel has been my main focus, but Dean and how he is framed by himself and others is...fascinating - and frustrating. The writers inconsistency lends itself not only to this unintentionally queer character, but also one that again is incredibly easily read as a non-traditionally masculine character.

As a feminine character.

This show has so few female characters that of course it had to foist the roles/behaviors/plots that a female character might have onto a male character. Which I think is part of why reading Dean as trans (either transmasc, or transfemme) is so easily done like.

Half of these are shit posts, but you can find trans allegories/textual evidence in this show again, again, again, again, and again. And this is unintentional, they don’t want you to look at Dean and see woman, former future or present. Like a lot of these I’m sure are punchlines for them, because women/queer folk are punchlines to them.

Sometimes the only women in an episode are random witnesses who get two sentences of dialogue, and then the main guest character is a man. Who flirts with Dean, and Dean is receptive to it.

They paint themselves into a corner, there are female Rabbi. So easily could Aaron have been a woman instead of a man, but they made the choice to play up the HaHa Dean & Men card.

Because, again, Dean has filled the slot of Woman™ of Female Lead™ and the flirting would’ve been straight if Dean was a woman. It’s a plot device, they needed to have the guest character be disarming, be cute, make the main character flustered.

It’s just the main character is a man, because they’re allergic to women. But they still need those female plots, tools of femininity, to move their show forward. I mean I am a big subscriber to transmasc Jo (no idea if anyone else is with me on this one, but let me explain). Jo is in love with Dean (concept) not Dean (actuality). Which, we’ve all had our eggs cracked by someone like that. We were in love with them until we realized we just wanted to be them.

He loved her like a little sister, she loved him like a lost idol. He’s a golden calf and she dies for him, because she believed in him, she was the original character dashed at the altar of the Winchesters.

I fully believe if she had lived and if this show had a crumb of actual good writing Jo could have been a deeply compelling transmasc character. But I also think she’s a fascinating inversion of Dean. Dean is a Masculine Character who subverts Toxic Masculinity, Jo is a Tomboy™ she’s not your (if you take it straight, literally and metaphorically) average female love interest. She’s angry, she’s not soft at all, all edges and corners and thorns. She isn’t helpless, she’s stubborn but not in a “you’re going to get punished for this” way. She’s right when she’s stubborn. She’s helpful, she’s a martyr.

I could do a whole other essay just on Jo (and Ellen, and Ash, what a fucking trio!) but needless to say Jo was one of the first...plot device feminine tools sacrificed to this show. She was a regular, she was unique, she was an engaging character, and she still died (to progress the plot? no. for man pain? yeah, for like three episodes maybe, and then it’s forgotten just like the rest of Dean’s trauma, as we mentioned above).

Dean and Women and Love is a very interesting tool used too because. Boy they sure try to make Dean love women and it fails in small ways, and in big, meaningless, failed het domesticity (again) ways. Not to mention whatever Lust (in the form of a woman) having no effect upon him, when they could have used that moment to assert his Masculinity and Heterosexuality. He behaved normally? And...also...whatever the fuck the Adios thing was!

Like they have these opportunities to make him Traditionally (toxically) Masculine, but make the choice to...not? To soften him. Because it’s a tool. He’s their female lead, textually he had to take on the role of mother(/father) to Sam, but...I mean this is a million miles long already. I know, but we absolutely can’t not talk about his Paternal/Maternal behaviors. (Which appear again and again again and again, outside of his relationship with Sam even/especially). He’s the mother hen, sage, safety net, beacon, home to so many side characters they meet.

I mean in many ways Jody is also a Dean comparison. Lost her family. Found a new family. She is non-traditionally feminine, but easily flustered and Silly™ (let’s just drop the entire sex talk over family dinner scene with Alex and the boys and looking to them for help, even though she was already a mother, and she’s a cop, and a hunter and this confident no nonsense individual.... She’s not). We are meant to see her as this hard ass, but she makes extra food for the boys to take back to the bunker. She’s deadly in a fight, but also still easily overwhelmed and put into damsel mode, and she cares so much even in the face of adversity.

It’s also fun to see how Jo | Jody are reflections of Dean at different points of his life. Younger, cocky | Older, settled.

Even when the text tries to tell us that he’s not.

When it reminds us that he’s violent. That he is his father, even if he says that Sam is more like John (which was reflexive, which was angry because of Adam and how Sam was behaving like Dean in that episode, and yes there are parallels to be drawn between Sam and John, the show barely dives into them). Instead we’re told that Dean is John (Again and Again and Again and Again).

So intensely that a fanfictionalized version of the Winchester Gospels makes it an entire fucking musical number.

And yet, despite the texts insistence to make Dean Macho Man Father Reborn™ We get this Dean who is silly (and directly compared/contrasted to the female character in this scene), soft, in heels, nagging, and... Sully (you know Sam’s imaginary friend who has the same Haircut Dean has, who is a softer, shorter, friendlier, campier, version of Dean who was a replacement For Dean until the real one let Sam back in? That? Sully?) it’s hard to take them seriously.

Hell, even when he was A DEMON? What did they do? They had him sing off-key drunken karaoke, they had him doing this ! Like that’s your hero, unhinged, free to be as bad as he could be, and you put him in a cowboy hat in a romance with the king of hell.

The Female Lead, everyone. Who’s biggest betrayal(s) comes at the hands of his love interest (again, a man even though it was an angel who could’ve taken any vessel! who could’ve been recast, who canonically dies admitting his love to Dean - that one), who he tries so hard to be loyal to.

The contradictions of his character are laughable. He is so emotional, but if he is engaged about his emotions? He shuts down, or he’s exasperated about being asked about them. It really is Female Lead/Only Here For The Plot disease, because everything is more important than him. How’s he doing? Doesn’t matter outside of the context of how x character is doing or that y character is dead. Or his emotions only matter if they’re done in penance.

They also really do frame him as Pretty Boy™ in a violent way, or in a derogatory manner. They’ll give us homoerotic shots like this or these and never really acknowledge how these are gay shots. Sorry the gun scene is a a straight up sex scene, the beer sip spilling out over his mouth is oral, the scene where Cas fills up Dean’s glass with whisky is also a sex scene, they do this shit on purpose but accidentally queer it up. If Dean was a woman these scenes wouldn’t even matter. They’d be passing moments, but because he is not just a man but A Man™ they’re insane to see.

Not to mention all of these scenes and all the ones I haven’t linked where Dean dresses up. He performs masculinity, but he performs femininity too. He’s a plot device that is slotted in to whatever role they need. He’s Super Straight Butch Man™ but coaches the lesbian on how to successfully flirt with a man. He’s Action Hero™ who sits through a montage with the same lesbian and yays and nays her outfits, and enjoys himself.

Fuck he loves dressing up, he feels better in these costumes because performing a character is easier than being himself. Because who is Dean? He’s a tool, both textually and metatextually. It is exactly how the women and because of the women on the show that Dean is the way that he is. If there was a more steady female presence Dean would not be half as much of a plot device or half as camp/gay/feminine/non-traditionally masculine/queer coded as he is.

In conclusion....

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn meta #spn #gender #anon #replies #messages #my writing #ANYWAYS PHEW okay anon i don't know if i even fully got to your point but i woke up at like 3:30 to this ask and i've been fixated on it #HOPE THIS IS EVEN JUST a little bit coherent #the way i meant for this to talk so much more about transness and eldest daughter syndrome and just FORGOT #oops #oh well

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thisisarcanereverie · 3 years

Text

When in Love (Sam Wilson x Reader)

A/N: I love Sam Wilson period.

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

REQUEST SOME PROMPTS

Summary: Bucky did indeed flirt with Sam’s sister again........and now they’re getting married. Sam brought you as his date to their big day.

“It’s not too late to get Carlos,” Sam said as you straightened his tie, Sam could do it by himself but then he wouldn’t have an excuse to have you near him.

“I’m pretty sure people would notice if the groom weren’t to make an appearance.” You said as you finished straightening his tie, letting your hands linger there for a while as you looked up into his dark eyes.

“Don’t know unless we try.” Sam half heartedly said. He was only half joking, for the past few years he saw Sarah happier than she had been in years. He knew Bucky treated her well and that he loved the kids as well. Sam knew Bucky would never hurt them.

Didn’t mean that Sam didn’t have Carlos on speed dial and an alibi set up just in case.

(Y/n) lightly smacked her hand against Sam’s chest as he laughed. His warm dark eyes lit up as he looked at her.

(Y/n) smiled and rolled her eyes. She had gotten ready before driving over and Sam couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was in sky blue.

Sam had been nervous when he asked (Y/n) to be his date to Sarah and Bucky’s wedding. He knew she wasn’t one for parties where she didn’t know anyone but she had surprised him by accepting.

“We have a wedding to get to.” You drew him from his thoughts while grabbing your clutch on the bed and walking out the door to wait for him. You had no idea the effect on Sam, even the way your hips sway when you walked away drove him insane.

Sam took a deep breath in to calm his nerves as he readied himself mentally. Sam was not only going to be one of Bucky’s groomsmen but also the one giving Sarah away.

Their father was the one to give her away the first time she got married, and now since their father had passed Sam was the only one left for the job.

Sam gathered his thoughts and headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs to see your figure waiting for him patiently at the bottom.

You hear the stairs creak under his feet and look up. You had always thought he looked attractive, but put that man in a suit and your knees began growing weak.

You barely managed to tear your eyes away from him for a second as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“Ready.”

---

The wedding had been beautiful, it was held at the church. The aisle and booths were decorated with white flowers and ribbons.

On Bucky’s side there was Dora Milaje and T’Challa. Along with Thor, Brunheilda, and the Guardians. Rocket was mostly looking at Bucky’s metal arm though.

The Ceremony had been just as beautiful, Sarah walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown which made Bucky tear up with Sam. AJ and Cass were already by Bucky’s side, after all Bucky had named them his Best Men.

While Sarah and Bucky said their vows Sam’s gaze couldn’t help but wonder to you. You were seated by Sarah’s side of the church along with almost everyone in town. You smiled and wiped a few tears as the vows got increasingly emotional. You had been seated near a glass stained window and all of its colors bathed you in it’s light. You just got more beautiful the longer he looked at you.

Suddenly your eyes had met with his, and he felt his heart stop and breathing suddenly became difficult. It wasn’t unwelcomed though, in fact it was quite the opposite. Sam didn’t look away and neither did you. You both had stared at each other until Sam decided to be bold and wink and flash his intoxicating smile. You smiled bashfully before winking back and tearing your eyes from his to focus back to the stars of the day as Sam did the same thing.

The reception was back at the house, Sam and a few other people from town helped set up the yard yesterday. Making an area for dancing, dining, food, socializing. Decorating it with magnolias and fairy lights and it looked stunning.

The sun had almost begun to set by the time everyone got back to the house to enjoy the party.

Bucky and Sarah did their first dance as husband and wife to an old 1940′s song and was later joined by AJ and Cass. Bucky had gone above and beyond to make sure the boys had been included in everything.

After their dance ended, something faster paced began to play and almost everyone began to make their way to the dance floor. You and Sam being among them. Sam had twirled you around and danced with you until it was time for the toasts to begin.

“I just want to thank everyone who came here today,” Bucky began to speak on the microphone, a beer in his hand. “I especially want to thank AJ and Cass for letting me into their lives, and my beautiful wife Sarah.” Bucky paused and gave her a wink, Sarah winked back and smiled. “I promise to uphold my vows and protect and love you and the boys with everything I have.” He raised his beer bottle in cheers before taking a quick swig out of it.

AJ and Cass had performed their toast next, welcoming him into their family and just an overall sweet speech which ended with Bucky in tears for the second time that day. It made your heart swell to see Bucky so happy after all these years he had to endure alone and tortured. He deserved this, they all did. Sarah, Bucky, Cass, and Aj deserved to be happy together.

A few other people gave speeches before Sam gave his. Even Rocket gave an impromptu speech.

“Can I have that arm now?”

“No.”

“I’m getting that arm.”

You saw a quick look of fear cross Bucky’s face as Rocket was approached by Dora Milaje and struggled to hold in a small laugh.

Sam made his way up the stage to give his speech. He straightened his jacket before grabbing the microphone.

“Sarah as your brother I am so proud of you and I know if Dad and Mom were here they would say the exact same thing. They would be proud of the woman and of the mother you have become.” Sam said with tears at the corners of his eyes at the mention of their parents, Sarah wiped her tears away as well. “Bucky as your friend I know Steve would be as proud and as happy for you as I am. Happy that you have finally found your peace and I welcome you to the family with open arms.” He raised his glass to Bucky who returned the favor. “Although I do recall telling you not to flirt with my sister,” laughter then ensued as Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “As Sarah’s brother,” Sam then motioned to Carlos sitting at one of the tables, “I want you to know that it’s not too late for me to get Carlos to feed you to the fish if necessary.” Carlos then waved and laughed at the groom who returned the favor. “treat her and the boys well and I guess we’re no longer co workers.” Laughter erupted as Sam took a drink in congratulations as did everyone else.

---

As the party began to die down you had snuck out the pier to get some fresh air away from everyone.

It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy their company and didn’t get to meet some pretty interesting people. It was just you needed a moment to yourself to relax. You were an introvert at heart and so many people at once tended to overwhelm you sometimes.

You watched as the water moved gracefully, breathing in time with it. The lights from the party reflected in the water and the music could still be heard although softer now.

You didn’t even seem to notice a certain man making his way to you before you heard a silent ‘oh shit’.

If Sam thought you had looked beautiful before, now you were angelic. The sun had long before set and now your figure was illuminated by the faint lights of the party and the moon. It gave you an almost ethereal glow as he noticed your hands fidgeting. A habit he noticed a long time ago, you always have to do something with your hands. He honestly found it cute.

Sam had been so caught up in you that he hadn’t noticed a little loose board and nearly tripped over himself.

Your hands stopped moving as you saw Sam holding onto the wooden railing of the pier for dear life. You laughed a little at Sam’s embarrassed expression as he tried to walk it off as though it didn’t happen.

You looked back out to the water as Sam finally made his way to your side. Out of the side of your eye you caught a glimpse at the man beside you. The light of the party and the moon made him look romantic, and you noticed that at some point in the night Sam discarded his tie and jacket, rolled the sleeves up his forearms and unbuttoned a button or two on his shirt. He started fidgeting with the watch on his wrist as you both look at the water dancing.

You could hear the upbeat music from the party change to another slow dance.

“You wanna dance?”

You turned and saw Sam with his hand out, ready to take your hand if you accepted. Which you did.

Slowly you and Sam moved with the beat, the music was quiet and the lights had made the moment all the more romantic.

Sam held your hand in one and his other hand went to your waist, pulling you flush against him making your heart beat out your chest.

Neither of you said a word, Sam hummed in tune with the song as you smiled at him.

Sam’s heart was beating out of his chest, usually he was smooth. Usually Sam had no trouble speaking to ladies, but it seemed as though you were the exception.

A couple of seconds passed before Sam finally broke the silence.

“Usually I can speak just fine in front of someone,” He started his deep voice quiet, “but now I can’t seem to speak without getting all tongue tied.”

You laughed a little at that, Sam loved your laugh. He couldn’t understand why but your laugh always seemed to put him in a better mood.

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked with a smile on his face, you wondered if his smile would ever stop making your heart beat faster.

“It’s just something my Mum used to tell me,” you explained, “what you just said reminded me of it.”

“Tell me.” He said his eyes focused on you, eyes reflecting the light from the reception. You looked down bashfully before meeting his eyes again.

“When in love speech becomes meaningless.”

Sam’s dark eyes stared into yours intensely as if you had become the only thing left in the world.

For a moment you wonder if you had misread the signs, maybe you had scared him. Panic starts to fill you as you begin to apologize before his hands move from their places at your waist and hand to either side of your face and kiss you.

The first thing you noticed was that Sam tasted of beer and spice. The next thing you noticed was how soft his lips were on yours and how gently he moved against you.

You had been so lost in the kiss that you hadn’t noticed the music dying down and the lights going out, all there was, was you and him.

You both pulled away reluctantly and watched as the moonlight reflected off the water. Content with not speaking another word and just holding each other in peace.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon imagine #the falcon x y/n #falcon marvel #falcon mcu #x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #sarah wilson #White Wolf #wakanda #t'challa #black panther #marvel x reader

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Can you write promp 15 to Shuu tsukiyama :) Thank you I love your writings.

I love my writing as well😉. No, but seriously guys. If it wouldn't be for my passion to write, I would have gone on a hiatus the moment I found out that I was being shadowbanned.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess, manipulation, paranoia, mentioning of kidnapping, catcalling, sexual harassment, blood, killing, Shuu being a sadist to the victim, eccentricity (?)

Prompt 15: “Shh princess… don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

"Kanae!! What happened to her?!?! Why is she crying?!?!"

You hadn't wanted to burst out in tears like this, but replaying the scene in your head over and over again like a movie had caused you unimaginable frustration and embarrassment. Now you remembered why you hated people so much, they were all just greedy and disgusting jerks. Calling you such nasty names in public and daring to go as far as following you. If Kanae wouldn't have been there with you, you didn't even want to imagine what might have happened to you.

"My poor princess! What happened?! Tell me!"

Furious tears were falling down your face, even though you had wiped them away already countless times before. You were not in a very good mood at the moment, you felt quite etchy at the moment. And that was what caused annoyance washing over you when you heard Shuu's cooing words, taking quick steps towards you to comfort you somehow. You knew what would come now. Another smothering session of his. Something you didn't need in the least bit right now. What you needed was time. Alone.

You still tried to stay as calm as possible, not wanting to make a huge scene that would only gain you more annoying attention. All the servants were honestly so much like their master, they all appeared to be overly dramatic when it came to you, the only real exception was Mirumo.

So when you suddenly stepped back from Shuu, lips pressed together and a mixed look out of sadness and anger on your face, you knew that you had hurt him. It was all too obvious judging from his wide eyes, confusion and pain already reflecting in them, and the way he had frozen when you had suddenly put a distance between you two. The hand, which he had extended, was staying in the air, shaking slightly. As always, he was overreacting.

“(y/-y/n)…What did I-“

“You did nothing Shuu. You didn’t do anything. I just wish to be alone right now. So I ask you to do me the favor and leave me alone for once. If you don’t, I might say things to you that will hurt you and which I don’t mean. Don’t test my patience for now.”

You were surprised by your own tone of voice, you sounded extremely rude, annoyance dripping from your voice like venom. It was hard to keep a calm and collected voice under such conditions. But for the reason of you having been well raised and well treated by the people in this place, you wanted to return the favor by doing the same.

You just stormed past both, Kanae and Shuu, without saying a single word, chewing furiously on your lips whilst the voice of the man kept ringing in your head. You felt like you wanted to smash something to relieve yourself of the ocean of emotions inside of you. Today had been the wrong day to convince Shuu with the help of his father to let you out without him.

“Master (y/n)!”, you heard Kanae yelling after you, followed by a thud sound that caused you to turn around shortly, feeling slightly startled by the sudden noise. But you were left feeling a bit surprised when seeing that your company for the last few hours had gone done to her knees, forehead pressed against the floor of the mansion and bowing deeply down in front of you.

“I can never forgive myself for not being able to help you. I failed you! I’m so sorry! It’s all because of my own foolishness and incompetence that you had to go through all of this!”

Her voice was shaking and you guessed that she would break out in tears at any moment, she was just as theatrical as your partner was.

“Kanae, it’s not your fault. We were under too many people, you couldn’t have done more than you did already. And that was already a big help. Also, please don’t refer to me as your master, I don’t like it when I’m being called this way. I see you as a friend, so that makes things always a bit awkward when you call me your master.”

Only the fading and fast footsteps of yours were heard in the silence which followed afterwards, leaving two people left dwelling on what had just happened. Shuu, who was staring with still shocked eyes at the stairs where you had just walked up, and Kanae, who was still remaining in her humble position. Somewhere upstairs the rather loud slam of a door was heard, indicating that you had just entered your room.

“Kanae…What…happened?”

Even her master seemed to be left flabbergasted by this sudden change of events, although tears were already starting to fill his eyes. It was not as much because of your rejecting behavior towards him, although that had hurt as well. No, it was because someone had upset his little dove so that she had cried and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

“So eine Scheiße!”, the girl suddenly shouted furiously and frustrated, slamming her head against the floor harshly as if wanting to punish herself.

By now she had bursted out in tears, drops splashing to the ground. “What am I good for when I couldn’t even keep her safe and this-this disgrace away from her?! Now she is angry! Please forgive me Master Shuu. You chose me because you trusted me to protect her, but I was the wrong person to choose.”

The last few sentences of her were told much more softer than the previous ones, only proving to Shuu that Kanae felt beyond miserable for what had happened. But it didn’t answe his question! It only made him more anxious.

What had happened whilst he hadn’t been there?! Who the duck dared to make his lovely darling cry?! Who?!

“Would you just please tell me what happened?!”, he yelled at the servant, his string of patience snapping right then and there and leading him into raising his voice.

Kanae flinched when hearing him shouting at her, the panic in his voice overwhelming her even more. It was all because of her that her master would have to go through the same pain as you as well. How should she even start explaining what had happened without him losing it right away?

“Mast-I mean (y/n)…She has been catcalled! And I was unable to take proper care of this threat! Watching this bastard…It was disgusting! Enraging! This rotten mouth of his…The things he called after her, I wish I could have gouged his tongue out! And he even had the audacity to follow her through the city, using every opportunity he had to spit more gross words out! And (y/n) had to endure all of this without losing her self-restraint. She even had to stop me. She stood her ground without breaking down in front of him. She was so admirable. I should have taken an example on her.”

The confession of the truth hurt, having to go through it all again hurt. Her master’s darling had been so brave, so perfectly in control of her emotions, so empathetic to rather let herself get humiliated instead of risking to let Kanae get triggered and reveal that she was a ghoul in the center of the city. And (y/n) still saw her as a friend! She was so kind. No wonder Master Shuu was so madly in love with her.

After that the ghoul waited for some reaction from him, shouting, yelling, crying, lashing out on her, anything. But nothing came. Instead another silence befell both of them, coming with a creepy feeling. An almost paralyzing feeling that made the violet-haired girl stay on the ground. The air felt like it was weighting her down. She knew this feeling.

Fear.

"So you're telling me that ma chérie is crying because some walking useless trash thought that he could use her and play her for his own entertainment?"

His voice was beyond spine-chilling, spoken like a true lunatic. His voice sounded for the most part quieter than expected, though it was trembling slightly. But what made her body nearly forget to function out of terror was the icy blood lust in it, like he was on the brink of insanity.

Barely, only barely did Kanae manage to lift her head, enough to catch a glimpse of his face. It only made her break out in cold sweat more. She thanked the heaven that he wasn't looking at her right now, instead staring in the empty space, a murderous grin on his face. His eyes were wide, reflecting the craziness inside of him perfectly. Just by looking at him was enough for Kanae to know that he was tearing the culprit in his mind currently to a bloody and deforedly mess. Her master was thinking like her, she had planned on doing the same. But she hadn't looked that unnerving.

"As much as I would love to torture and rip this waste of oxygen right now, this will have to wait. My princess needs me right now."

The sudden change in his whole personality was delightening yet also the slightest bit stunning for Kanae to witness, how he went from psychopathic sadist to his normal dramatic and lovesick self.

"W-wait! C-can I do something, anything to make somehow up for my failure?", Kanae stuttered out, stopping Shuu from crossing the stairs with huge steps. She had to do something, she felt truly feeble.

Shuu noticed her still majorly guilty expression, giving her a small sympathetic smile. "Don't work yourself up to hard over it now. (y/n) was only right. You would have only done much worse if you would have let lost control then and there. You already did a better job than I did in keeping composure. For now just tell the others to prepare dinner, (y/n)'s favorite. And also..."

The sudden drop in Shuu's voice and his face was a dead giveaway what he wanted to say next. "Let's meet later outside when my darling is sleeping. I believe we have something to take care of, don't we?"

That alone was enough to make Kanae stand up, the anger and feeling of helplessness scratching her feeling of self-esteem. Her master knew that she had a score to settle as well after having only been able to watch. She felt grateful that he took that into reconsideration even though she had let this happen in the first place.

"It would be my pleasure to be from any help. I feel honored that you still chose me."

"Why are you here? I think I told you I want to be alone.", you shot out after Shuu had simply knocked and entered your room without permission, giving you nearly no time to wipe away all the tears on your cheeks. You hated crying in front of people, you hated looking weak and vulnerable and being it as well. That's why you always wanted to be alone when you felt like crying.

"You expect me to just stand away when my dove clearly needs someone right now?! You were just sexually harassed and want me to leave you alone?! Forget it!"

His reaction was what you had seen coming, the paranoia coloring his face being all too obvious and he looked distressed as well. Shuu wasn't good in handling something like this at all, not when it had you being in any sort hurt involved.

"Go away. I look terrible right now.", you just said without replying to what he had just said, though this had been a rhetorical question. You didn't look very good right now, tears smearing all over your face, your eyes reddened and puffy and your nose running due to all the crying.

"That doesn't matter to me. For me you look beatiful no matter what, even if you cry."

Despite feeling upset, you managed to let a chuckling scoff out when you heard the man saying this, still not being completely used to his more cheesy lines. But right now he probablly had the intention to cheer you up.

"Good grief, you're really too much. Let go of me.", you replied slightly ironically in between your sobs when he suddenly just clinged to you, wrapping you up in his arms. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, his hug was warm and managed to soothe you a bit.

You actually shouldn’t feel this way, not in the arms of the man who used to torment and hurt you out of pure and utter sadistic fun. Back then it had just been horror for you. And only thanks to his well-mannered father things had changed for you, only then. You owed Mirumo for that more than you could effort, but his only request had been staying, knowing the attachment his son had for you would never perish. But at the same time you had the feeling his father had helped his son as well, causing you to get along with him better and better until you had started to forget where acting stopped and where real feelings were showing.

“Shh princess…don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

He had a point. That asshole had wanted to get under your skin which was the second reason you had stayed strong in front of him. But you were human as well, you had feelings which could be hurt. You were currently hurt which was why you needed some sort of comfort right now and Shuu provided it. Maybe a bit too much.

You estimated that you needed about five minutes until you had calmed somewhat down, though the after effects from your crying session still shook your body every once in a while. But you felt the tiniest bit less shitty.

“I think I’m feeling better now. Thank you…Shuu.”, you told him softly, feeling your cheeks warming up the tiniest bit.

He just let out a content ‘hmm’, his chin resting on your shoulder and his one hand playing with your hair a bit. He didn’t look like he had any intentions to move despite you giving him the look. You had a rather silly bad feeling.

“Do you want to let me go?”

“Never. At least not until the dinner is prepared.”

“Shuu.”, you protested slightly, pushing him a bit against the chest which turned out to be good for nothing. He didn’t budge. Instead you could almost see with your inner two eyes on the back of your head that he was grinning upon your attempt to remove him.

“Oh well. I’ll let him have it his way. He deserves it.”

Kanae was walking, as quietly as possible, nervously back and forth. She would never blame her master for anything at all, but maybe she just felt extremely uneasy right now that she wanted to leave desperately. Tokyo was huge and finding one single man would be hard, though she remembered the few broken pieces of informations she had heard when the man had been taken away from some other people who seemed to know him.

“I have to avenge (y/n) or else I’ll never be able to feel like I deserve this happiness.”, the girl thought bitterly, intending to bring suffering over this piece of garbage.

“You seem rather impatient. Believe me, I am just as eager as you are, though we shouldn’t waste too much time with this sad excuse of a man.”

Kanae quickly turned around, anticipation shining from her eyes when she saw Shuu appearing from the shadows, already having put on fitting clothes and holding his mask in his hand.

“I apologize, I simply couldn’t bring myself to leaving my princess alone. She looked too gorgeous to not marvel over. That’s why I want to speed this all up, I want to return to her as fast as possible. It of course doesn’t mean I intend to let this person easily of the hook.”

He chuckled a bit, for a few moments softness dominating his face when recalling the sweet memories of his darling sleeping peacefully. But in the blink of an eye he changed, the lust to kill someone taking over him and twisting his face into something entirely else.

“Kanae, do you know where we should start?”

His voice was terrifying, his feelings and intentions dripping freely from it and a malicious glint shining in his eyes. Not like Kanae minded, her own face being overshadowed by her negative feelings.

“Yes, I do have an idea.”

#yandere tokyo ghoul #yandere shuu #yandere shuu tsukiyama

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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

Piña Coladas

pairing: Marco x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: You are loyal to your captain and your team, so you would do everything to win. Even shoot your boyfriend.

highlight: ¨I don´t like when your tattoo is covered.¨

warning: implied smut

notes: Guys, I really want to thank each and every one of you for the love and support <3 Also, picture this as a crossover between laser tag and paintball!

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Ok, assholes, listen up!¨ your freckled captain uttered loudly due to the music blasting outside of your headquarter. ¨They have Haruta and Speed Jiru, those sneaky bastards, so we´re gonna have to be careful here, ok? They also have an extra person compared to us! So focus the fuck up!¨

The Whitebeard Pirates made a strategic stop at the Sabaody Archipelago for provisions, which meant that it was time for the Division Commanders and Whitebeard´s left-hand and only daughter, you, to engage in your periodic Bubble Laser Tag battle.

The teams were sorted out, and one would always have an extra member. The team captains were for the first time, Ace and Marco. And despite loving the First Division Commander, you were obliged to take a vow to serve and honor your team and your captain as long as the game ran.

¨Y/N you´re the faster one here and the smallest, so I´m counting on you.¨ you saluted him ¨Izo, you´re the best sniper we have, so place your freckled butt in a strategic place and shoot the fuck out of those motherf-¨

¨OI, OI, OI, OI!¨ all of you shouted at Ace.

¨Calm down, cowboy! Don´t you think you´re taking this far too seriously?¨

¨No! Do you know when was the last time I was captain?! And do you know how many losses in a row I have?! This is my pride, Y/N! You´re with me or against me?!¨

You couldn´t face him without laughing, he was just so stupid sometimes. But you made sure to let him know that you were on his side - not that you had a choice, though.

The teams were called The Bird Brains and The Freckled Butts. Yes, the captains chose each other´s team's name, and naturally, nothing good could come out of it. The worst part was having to run around with a tag that said ¨Freckled Butt¨ on your gear.

In Ace´s team, you had, well, you, Thatch, Izo, Fossa, Namur, Blamenco, and Kingdew, and in Marco´s team were Vista, Haruta, Speed Jiru, Atmos, Curiel, Jozu, Blenheim, and Rakuyo.

¨They will definitely use Jozu and Atmos as sacrificial lambs to get to us.¨ Thatch pointed out.

¨Ok, so we´re leaving them to you, Izo.¨ Ace spoke.

¨I´m guessing Haruta and Jiru will be doing the same as Izo, hiding somewhere and making surprise attacks.¨

The rules were pretty simple:

1) No Devil Fruit ability could be used. Not after Ace almost burned the entire place to the ground once.

2) You didn´t have to stay on the ground. You could use whatever you had at your disposal to climb the walls or even the ceiling.

3) If the captain is out, the team is out.

¨Ok. So, Thatch, you´ll cover for me; Namur will cover for Blamenco, and Kingdew will cover for Fossa. Izo and Y/N will go solo.¨ you furrowed your eyebrows.

¨Wait, I´m not covering Izo?¨

¨No, Y/N. You are our special pawn.¨ he said in a devilish and malicious tone. ¨I said I want a glorious victory this time. Your job will be to end this game as soon as possible.¨

¨Still not following, Fire-Fist.¨

¨We´ll make sure no one gets to you while you go find your birdie and end him!¨ he burst in a maniac laugh.

¨You really think Marco is that stupid?!¨

¨No, but he´s a man, Y/N.¨ you gasped, outraged.

You faced your crewmates, all of them smirking at you.

¨What are you now, a pimp?! Izo, say something, defend my honor!¨

¨I would Y/N, but not only he´s my captain today... he´s kinda right.¨

¨Besides, we´re all very familiar with you guys getting business done.¨ Thatch rested his arm on your shoulders. At this point, internal bleeding caused by severe embarrassment was killing you not so softly.

¨You know what? I think I´ll kill you all first!¨ you threatened the commanders.

The entire arena turned red, and a loud 10 seconds countdown began. You put your goggles down and tightened your grip on the gun, comrades doing the same.

¨We´re counting on you, Y/N. Put your freckled butt to work!¨ Ace said and stormed out before you could beat him.

Still analyzing his request and your options available, you decided to stay hidden in the shadows. Head down, and powder dry - or paint wet.

The music was so intense you could feel your lungs vibrating with every beat, sometimes knocking the oxygen out. The whole place was dark with colorful light beams flashing in every direction.

After 5 minutes of resting in the shadows, you opted for what you thought would be the best thing to do, plus you had the benefit of being smaller than those brutes, so you fit in places they didn´t.

And you just had found yourself the perfect spot right behind the stage lights at the top of the arena. Getting up there was a little tricky, the light rays almost blinded you - plus the risk of you being caught - and you were not sure you could hide there. Technically it was not against the rules.

¨If I were a hot birdie piña colada, where would I be?¨ you tried to channel into your lover´s brain.

That was actually a good hideout, you spot many of the commanders running around the field. You loved how they took it seriously as if their lives depended on it.

A loud buzz played every time someone was eliminated, although they didn´t say from which team unless it was the captain. You´ve heard zero buzzes so far, showing how inspired and determined they were.

You finally decided to follow your captain´s order when 10 minutes passed, and no one had gotten eliminated. Your stomach craved for food and you were really bored.

You´d always choose the biggest arena since guys like Kingdew and Jozu wouldn´t fit in the normal one. So this one was larger, taller, and had more obstacles. Bubbles in all shapes and sizes, picturesque barricades, and tricky mirrors. Finding Marco was going to be tough... if you didn´t have a card in your sleeve.

Again, it was not against the rules, and you wanted to eat something. Besides, this victory was more meaningful to Ace than to Marco. So you took your lover´s vivre card from your pocket and placed it on your palm, waiting for it to guide you.

¨Bingo!¨ you spot a fluffy pineapple crown not so far from you. The problem was to reach him before he moved again.

Your plan was not to shoot him from the distance, you knew better than that. You were going to approach, engage naturally and eliminate the target. Based on the field, the track he took so far, and his usual train of thought, you had a good guess of what he was planning to do.

The path he was taking led you to believe that he was advancing towards a barricade, a good place to hide, but that would offer him no visibility of his opponents. Was he planning to lay low while the rest of you killed each other? That didn´t sound like him.

The job that had been entrusted to you within the Whitebeard Pirates was to analyze each mission´s goal, come up with several different plans of approach - or attack - and predict the possible failures or setbacks. And you did all of that alongside Whitebeard himself, and all sixteen commanders. So, to guess the strategy Marco was going for would be easier than steal a child's candy.

Well, actually, you were able to guess his final destination, not his strategy.

Without losing any more time, you ran and hid behind the barricade, waiting for your boyfriend to arrive.

¨Whatever.¨ you thought.

¨Don´t shoot!¨ you squealed and threw both hands in the air.

¨Really, Y/N? This is how you play?¨ Marco asked, putting his gun down.

¨When I am hungry, yes!¨ you bent slightly, faking an exhausted state.

¨What are you doing here, yoi?¨

¨Looking for Izo, I was supposed to cover for him.¨ you struggled with the weird sensation of lying to Marco.

He hummed and leaned against the wall, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead. The lightning was awful, but it was enough for you to see his messy hair and those lazy eyes that made you almost forget the mission.

¨Why are you staring, yoi?¨ he gave you a smirk and a quick nod.

¨Nothing. Uhm...¨ you bit your lip as the butterflies started to go insane inside of you ¨...it´s so rare to see you carrying a gun...¨

The first commander watched you with a raised eyebrow and a playful grin ¨Yeah, so?¨

The two of you entered a parallel universe, the lights changed according to the muffled beat of the music. And it was hot. Flaming hot, burning hot.

Your breath was slow but heavy, and your mouth ran dry with adrenaline on your veins. Not because of a stupid plan or stupid game but because he made you lose whatever control you had over your body and mind.

You let go of the gun and raised your hand until your fingers touched the skin of his face, tracing a slow path to his parted lips. He watched you like you were a rare creature, an angel forgiving his sins or a siren taking his life. His large hand held yours, and he placed kisses on your fingers, the same fingers that would pull the trigger by the end of this. You wondered if he already knew.

Marco hooked his finger on the belt holders of your jeans and turned you, making you hit the wall, and oxygen left your lungs in a puff. Didn´t take long until he attacked your neck, tasting your salty skin. Your fingers pulled his hair as your body arched involuntarily, cold shivers reaching every part of you.

His eyes were soaked in lust when he stopped marking your neck and stared at you like a hungry predator. Your teary eyes traveled to his chest looking for his tattoo, but it was covered by the stupid gear.

¨I don´t like when your tattoo is covered.¨ you spoke.

He leaned to your ears and said in a whisper ¨Then uncover it.¨

He was teasing you, he knew what you were supposed to do and was torturing you.

¨I-I can´t...¨ your voice came out weak ¨I... I have to-¨

¨What, yoi?¨ his grin was malicious.

¨I have to shoot you.¨

Marco leaned again, getting really close to your lips but never touching them. Instead, he took your paint gun and put it in your hand. You laughed, asking yourself if you truly believed you would be able to fool him. He gave a quick kiss before stepping back so you could end your mission.

¨You really don´t mind letting Ace win?¨

¨Ace can have the victory.¨ he shrugged ¨I have something better, yoi¨

You blushed with his comment, and fireworks exploded in your chest.

¨I love you, bird brain.¨

¨I love you... freckled butt.¨ he laughed, probably embarrassed for the name he chose.

¨This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you.¨ you raised the gun to his gear.

¨I hope so, yoi.¨

¨Ready?¨

¨You know I´ll make you pay for this later, right, yoi?¨

¨I´d be disappointed if you weren´t planning to.¨

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jjkpls · 3 years

Text

Mean Yoongi 4 - Finale (M)

> genre : angst (a hell of a lot), smut

> pairing : min yoongi x reader (f)

> total words : 11k+

> warnings/content : takes place post rona quarantine, explicit sexual content (bj, fingering, dirty talk, lowkey cum play), bad writing (it’s been a while, i hope you don’t feel the struggle too much)

> summary : You haven’t talked to Yoongi in so long, now that you’re allowed to see him again, you’re not sure how to do it anymore.

> previous

"Your hair has grown a lot."

I don't say anything. I stare, probably a bit cold, I don't make an effort to answer. There's a lot of things to say but no words seem right. Her attempt sucks anyway. I can tell, from the way she nibbles on her bottom lip, eyes shying away, that she thinks the same.

The moment is filled with tension. The bad kind of tension. She's fidgety, feeling awkward. I feel it too but I'm better at hiding it. I've always been. Sitting back in my chair, observing her attentively, I can't help my insides from twisting on themselves, my heart from squeezing painfully in my chest. She's the same, mostly. With a shadow under the eyes she didn't use to have, a pallor I hate on her cheeks -usually painted that lovely shade of crimson, whenever I'm here to watch, as if the colour exists only for me- a slump in her stance. I wonder what I'm like to her. My hair's changed, as she mentioned. It's quite long, it's grown indeed, and enough for my natural colour to take over my whole head. I am tired, both in body and mind. So much so, I don't find the energy to tease her like I would before. And maybe, that's the biggest thing that's changed about me, and this sole thing is turning me into someone else entirely. I may as well be a whole someone else. Not the man who used to, every now and then, sprinkle glimpses of an awkward grin I've never gotten used to wearing but that I know, she loves. Certainly not the one who teased her with a relationship she could graze but not catch, with my fingers deep in her cunt, using crude and harsh words foreign to my lips straight in her ear, because she secretly loves it. Dancing on her feet, playing with her own fingers, gesticulating and waiting, hoping for an easy way out to manifest somehow. Probably for me to grant it to her because no matter how difficult I make myself to be, I've always been good at that. Dictate and guide how things go between us. I am sweet even if I wouldn't ever admit it aloud and it's been convenient, always, for her. I'm sort of curious to see how it'll go, how it can go if for once, I'm not making any effort for the both of us. I raise from my seat, eyes dropping from her. (She's wearing Converse, I note. This probably because she didn't plan on seeing me.) Hands digging deep in my pockets, I'm not sure I can approach her. These weird, implemented reflexes raise in her too. People don't do it so much any more. Getting close. And I can see her flinch in impulse before her eyes grow big and demanding. "I got tested-" She cuts herself short. It sounds weird. To speak in this deafening silence, she can hear it as much as I can. And to say those words too. She doesn't have to finish the sentence, I get the idea and from the shade of her voice, I can tell her results have turned out negative. Maybe I'm a bit irresponsible. Maybe a bit too desperate. In any case, it makes me scoff, roll my eyes. Staring down at my feet, hair hiding most of my face to her, I have to bite back on my tongue the words that almost roll out. Something about not giving a shit about that, and her being ridiculous. I don't really trust my mouth, I have no idea what would come out of it, therefore I don't speak. My hand reaches forward, bony fingers catching the front of her shirt before I'm dragging her to me. Very naturally, as if it hasn't been months since the last time I've touched her, as if even before that we were used to holding unto each other like that, she melts in my arms. "Why didn't you call?" She could, technically, ask me the same thing: I could have done it. I hope she doesn't ask. I wouldn't know what to say to her. How honest to be. I'd probably say that I was waiting for her to do it first. Which sounds ridiculous, childish as hell but couldn't be more true. I'd say, if I had a different tongue, that wouldn't get tied up anytime deep feelings are involved, that I was worried and terrified and sad, like I had not been in a long while. And all this because she wouldn't call, she wouldn't reach out for me and my heart, probably too profound and too serious, couldn't quite comprehend and certainly not accept her silence. Those months drove me crazy. Literally. I came to ask myself if I didn't make it all up. If the special bound between us had ever really existed or if it was just all projection. "You didn't either." She ends up saying. Clearly, she's as speechless as I am when it comes to explaining months, almost half a year, of pure dumbassery. It's not like it's necessary to explain anyway. She should just know how to tell me that she missed me. And I should know to do it too. She's better at that stuff. Not that good but still better than I am, I think. If she can't do it then I'm not sure I can even try. But today I'm different, as I said. And when she accuses me like she just did, I tense but don't let go. I can hear the way her breath catches in her throat, her shoulders rising to her ear. She's probably expecting me to back away and start cursing at her. I only squeeze further though, sliding my chin along her shoulder so to tuck my neck nicely with hers, humming pure appreciation, when it feels as comfortable and warm as it possibly can. She smells wonderful, she's warm and so willing to let me wrap myself around her. "I wasn't at my best so- I thought I'd just wait for you to call when you would-" I found the courage, apparently, to say all the things that's been heavy on my mind. It's easy when she's this tender. Embodiment of warmth, of welcoming, of loving, I can only be serene, voice low and soft. "But you never did." The only reason I allow myself to reproach the things that technically she can also blame me for, is because I know, that pressed that hard and that close against her, she can feel my heart beating insanely, exposing and telling on me. "You should have!" I don't need to say anything for her to gather that I'm not amused. I unwrap from her, deciding she's being too much of a stubborn brat. I sigh, watching her pointedly not watching me. She yelps and finally grants me her pretty eyes when a pinch to the back of her thigh, right under her ass, scalds her. Here's her "Mean Yoongi", as she so calls me, according to the Snapchat conversation she shares with Taehyung. I see her bite back a smile, her pretty lip flushed when she releases it. "What was that for?" She whines as if it's not fair, rubbing the soreness of her thigh with one hand. I smile mostly with my eyes, deciding to ignore the tears that have gathered in her eyes while I wasn't looking. I back away, taking a stand against the top of my desk, arms crossed tight on my chest. "You deserve way more than that. Lucky for you, I feel lazy." Her gaze follows mine, aimed at the leather sofa. The thing presently empty but virtually filled with the substantial memory of that one fateful time I touched her for the first time, her ass made red by my ministrations. I can't do that today. I'm too soft for now. I still enjoy seeing her squirm, blush and shy away while simultaneously loving thinking about it though. "I could tell you the same, Yoongi. You could have-" I'm losing patience. It's not entirely against her. It's more accurately against us. We're playing the same pointless game. The unnecessarily torturing game of denying, of dismissing. I should probably just drop it, even if it hurts and leaves me with too many pressing interrogations. I might look a bit more serious when I start studying her face with great attention. She's beautiful. I missed seeing her. The mental picture I had kept of her, along with the real ones I'd spent months looking at, didn't do her much justice. She looks somewhat surreal. Prettier than I remember, yet printed with the same aura I recognize. "I told you why already." I whisper to her. My own voice surprises me. It's as if my heart, that's been too hurt, has been left tender, exposed and I'm turned weak even in demeanour. I bet it's confusing for her. It is for me. Feels disarming. "But- what's the point then? If when you're down you don't call-" To that, I don't know what to say. I don't know how to admit to her, if she hasn't guessed it yet, the extend of my inability to seek for what I need, for what makes me feel good, for her who I've wanted and craved for. Of course, I needed her. Of course, I wanted her to be here for me -and be needed and wanted by her. I don't know how to say it though therefore I kiss her. A soft press to the corner of her mouth. I smile, probably looking dumb, when I see her wide eyes blinking, sending one lone tiny tear on her cheekbone. Her cheeks turn red because apparently, she's not immune to me and my kisses anymore, her immediate, strong reactions turning out to be the same as the ones she used to have, in the very, very beginning, when she was so putty, so lenient, such a good girl and also, the shyest and most innocent little thing. She needs some time to accommodate, to say the least. She's barely kissing me back. Simply letting me pepper her mouth with kisses, closing her eyes, hands reaching for my sweatshirt yet not so much giving me back.

After too long of not enough, I need to stop. Because what I think I know might not be so right anymore. Maybe I read things wrong, yet again, and she's not in the same place I stand. After looking at her face, and her eyes, who struggle to dry up and look at me, I ask, "What's wrong?", granting her all of my attention. "Wha- you, what's wrong?" I scoff. She looks like she's about to cry while snarking like a brat. "You're really testing my patience." "You're different. You don't have patience normally." I tilt my head to the side, a tiny smile lifting one corner of my lips. I can't say it's not true. "I thought you wanted me sweeter?" She stares, frowning. Confused, embarrassed and almost upset. I know I'm a weird fucking version of myself right now. The one that hasn't come out a lot these past few years and that she'd certainly never met before. I'm scared she doesn't like it. Maybe she hates it. If she liked me before, there's no reason she'd like that one Yoongi, is there? "I'm just messing with you. I'm tired and-" Gentle fingers wrap around her hands, intimating her to walk forward, forward and close enough for me to close my lips on hers again. "It's been a while." I let her look into my eyes, read the longing and probably the sadness. "Sorry if I'm weird. If you don't like me like that just- bear with me for today, hm?" "I bear with you all the time." Well. That's not even the last thing I expected her to say. Pretty mean for a sweet girl like her. "What does that mean?" She shrugs. She knows but she won't say. She has that pout on her mouth. The tilted one she does whenever something's been said loud and clear in that little head of hers but she's not generous enough to indulge in sharing. I stare, disapprovingly, thumb chastising kindly her cheek. "That's rough." "I don't mean it like that-" "Then what do you mean?" My mouth finds her again for an instant. It's a soft gentle kiss that doesn't hint at anything more. She remains silent. "Cats got your tongue? You usually can't shut up but you're so quiet today." Through her cute pout, she mumbles, "I guess I'm weird too today." My phone buzzes where it lays on my desk. With a quick glance, I can tell it's a text from Namjoon. I don't even need to read it. I can guess it. He's probably calling me an idiot while simultaneously demanding me not to be one.

I heard him earlier, I bet she doesn't know, when he held her hostage by telling that I was awake and that she should go say hi. He held her hostage because she was just passing by. From how loud Taehyung and Jimin were when the front door banged opened, half an hour ago, I could tell they were drunk as hell and she had just planned on dropping them off and leave. And Namjoon, being the good man and even better friend that he is, wouldn't let that happen. How could he when he's seen me all those months in states he probably hoped, back when we were young trainees, that he'd never had to see me again in? It hurt and it still does a little, to imagine that for the first time after so long, after finally being freed from the government harsh but necessary restrictions, she would come so close to me yet consider pass by me, without saying hi, without inquiring if I'm here, even. If it were not for the firm, absolutely non-subtle suggestion coming from Namjoon, she would have done it. She would have left ignoring me. Then she knocked gently on my door, I could tell she was terrified when I opened it and faced her, quiet. And maybe it was pure projection but I felt she wanted to be here. She was scared and embarrassed, didn't know what to say, what to do with herself and me, but she wanted to stay and try to untie this shitty intricate ball of knots. The thing is, it's late. It's super fucking late and I'm reminding when the screen of my phone lights up again to remind me to check the text I just received. She arrived too late at the dorms. We wasted, collectively, too much time not saying much and here we are, standing in the dimly lighted studio, facing each other with too much of an ambiguous tension surrounding us. Everything is unclear. The kisses she would allow me to leave on her lips but not give back to me, tasting lovely but with an aftertaste, a bitter taste of confusion, raising questions as far as their meanings – are they greetings or goodbyes. It's past one in the morning but I'm not ready to let her leave, especially when I don't know what she'd be leaving behind. Anxiety is creeping in my bosom. It's pissing me off. Vainly I bend over, to my side, tapping my finger on my phone to have it lit up. Maybe Namjoon is not just insulting me and has left actual practical advice for me to follow and not fuck this up. "Yoongi?" My ears perk up but I don't look up yet. My eyes are messed up from the exhaustion and I struggle to read. I see keywords: idiot (as expected), asshole, chance, upset. I see the word "love" even, that makes me wince. How can he believe he'd help me by sending me this word when she's standing right in front of me? She called yet she still has not talked further. I shut my phone instantly, worried to have been too lowly engaged to her, to have vexed her in any way, to have been an idiot, precisely what Namjoon threatened me into not being. I raise an interested eyebrow, inviting her to talk and she finally does so, fast and barely audible, "Can I spend the night?" She grimaces. I mean to frown but I realise my face is already squished in a scowl. Maybe her grimacing makes sense. "You mean here, at the dorms?" I ask, forcing my expression to quiet down by a tonne because my shock seems wrongly interpreted by her. That seems to help. She looks at me with her big demanding eyes, the ones I know. The ones that beg, unapologetically for my affection. She nods. "With me or- in the spare room...?" She nods again. "That doesn't answer my question, ___." "Yoongi." Here comes the little brat tone half-whining, half-menacing because she doesn't get her way straight away. How lovely to meet her again. I decide to spare her from any torture, for now, shutting the light off and guiding her, with my hands on her waist, through the dark and out my studio. "Why do you even ask? How many times have I invited you to stay?" I whisper in her ear, adoring the way I feel her tremble against me. "It's different now." She huffs, not the least hiding her annoyance. I can admit things are different now. Sort of feels like a whole different fucking life, if you ask me. I wouldn't have imagined that I needed the world to be taken upon such a devastating global catastrophe for my lover to accept spending one full night with me, for the first time. I don't even see the correlation, honestly. I don't even know why she didn't want to before. I forced myself not to dwell on this question too much. Simply accepting that she wouldn't and that's her right to not want to. But that was weird. "Is it?" My arm reaches before her, turn the handle right because she's left lost and awaiting in the dark. There's a gust of her smell coming to me. The sweet, comforting, familiar and magically charming, addicting scent. There's the click of the knob in the dark, and the door opens up on the hallway's bright lightening. No words are exchanged as I lead her, a hand gently pressed to the bottom of her back, so close to her ass the idea that I could just let it slide down can't leave my agitated mind. Most doors are closed shut, there's no much noise being heard in the whole apartment apart from the occasional high pitched giggles from the two drunk kids in the living room. She's too quiet to be entirely at ease with the situation. I don't even think she's ever come inside my and Seokjin's bedroom. Seokjin.

I wonder how aware she is of the fact that I'm sharing my room with someone else. If she does, she didn't seem to mind when she asked, with her battling lashes and irresistible pout, to spend the night with me. If we do end up making him spend the night elsewhere, he might curse at me or give me the cold shoulder for a minute or two tomorrow, but he'll live. "Is it? Different?" I ask again. We've reached the bedroom and I decide to lock the door for good. If Seokjin were to, perhaps, come to our room to head to bed, he'd be met with a locked door.

She doesn't answer, still. I'm pretty sure she allows herself that because of how lenient I am with her today. She knows I'm not going to force the words out of her. I sigh calmly, resolved, black eyes patient as they fix her. "Of course, it is. Isn't it to you?" "What is?" Hands raised to the sky, eyebrows high in bewilderment, her confusion, so big it's almost revolt, couldn't be more explicit. "I'm asking because I don't know, ___. You don't talk to me, how am I supposed to know?" "Sorry." She mumbles. Blushing from embarrassment, as she lowers her hands, looks down and sinks on herself. "It's ok." My hand leads hers to my lips, I kiss its back. "Why didn't you call?" "Yoongi, sometimes I just don't know how you feel. No, always- I mean, never, I never know how you feel-" I'm not sure how much she means to hurt my feelings. I'm pretty sure she knows, if the way she seeks for words, not to offense me, is any tell. But she sucks at preserving them. Her words sting like hell. "During- I just- I didn't want to force myself into you if that's not what you wanted, that's all." "And that's not what you wanted? Just hearing me, you didn't want that?" I have to ask. It's probably better talking about her feelings than mine, right now. "Course, I did..." She sulks. "Then why not try? At least for yourself, I don't get you." Maybe resentment of a tortured, sensitized heart is unleashing. I don't want to ever harm her but she's done it, a lot. I don't want to believe it but maybe we've parted too long for a cold, unpenetrable wall not to have taken place between us. At least, provisionally. It can't be that unpenetrable. "I'm sorry." She lowers her head, whispering. Looking all saddened. Guilty. Nervous. And of course, I'm too soft. "You used to force yourself into my life all the fucking time, sneaking in my studio like an affection craving puppy, you didn't care back then but now that I like you, you don't want it anymore." Her eyes blink, shift suddenly up. Wide and alarmed. They scrutinize me sitting on the bed, checking my own nails, pretending to be nonchalant about the bitty bomb I've just dropped. "Wouldn't peg you for the heartbreaker type but ok-" "Don't say stuff like that." "Like what? Stuff that I mean?" I roll my eyes because the moron watches me with an emotion in her gaze, anger, she's menacing me. "It's not funny." "It really isn't." I shake my head along. "I talked with a friend and he said the reason you didn't call is probably that I was messing with you too much, not saying anything you wanted to hear. That you got tired of waiting for me." "Namjoon?" I nod. I had to talk to Namjoon. Because I had to talk about her to someone. Taehyung was simply out of the question. He's her best friend. One of the closest of my own friends. He probably knows me too well, knows I'm not that well-off in my personal life, in my heart and mind to be with his non-biological sister. And Namjoon is kind and loves me a lot, even if we wouldn't talk about that. So much so that it makes him genuinely happy to see me excited about someone. "It's not really- that. I'm just a coward, Yoongi. I didn't know how to talk to you and ask you the things I wanted to and-” She's staring down, at her own fingers pkaying with each others. Cute. “Yeah, I don't know, I didn't know how you felt about me." "I thought I was obvious." She shrugs. She shrugs. It should anger me. I'd have the right to be mad. I was obvious. I've been obnoxious. Letting her mess with me and my stuff because she owns me and therefore, by definition, also everything I have. Letting her in. Filling up all the room, all according to her own whims. "Com'here," I demand, rather gently, spreading my legs and leaning back, hands holding me up. She obediently steps forward, takes her seat on my lap, right where I want her. That's perfect. Everything I needed to obliviate the fact that she hasn't confessed liking me back yet. "What is it you wanted to ask me?" She's hovering over me, slightly taller, should feel superior. But her pretty face is turned down, eyes avoiding mines from shame, staring at her hands toying with the strings of my sweatshirt. The bubble, so intimate, is small, very very small and it's hard to live in it. The air she's breathing is mine, the same way the air I'm breathing is hers, and she must be aware of the way all I'm seeing are the tiny, pretty details of her face. "Yoongi. You really like me?" "Course, I do." My cheeks burn from embarrassment. I kind of hate it but I live for the grin she struggles to hide. "Stupid." Totally free and unnecessary but not unjustified, I deem. "Then can you be my boyfriend? Or like would you- would you like to be?" With a hurried press of my lips to the corner of her mouth, I attempt to hide the grin growing on them. "Took you long enough." I fail miserably as I can't help but smile against her mouth, poorly kissing it. "It doesn't answer my question." She points out. I know it doesn't. I hate how happy and rather emotional I felt just having her ask me to be her boyfriend. Who would have thought I would mind this much? Honestly, I wouldn't have guessed it. I never thought it'd move me that much. But I suppose, I should have known by now, that, that's what she does: she moves me. It's a breathtaking kiss, stolen or given while I press her down on her back, body not hovering but laying on hers, every inch of hers pointedly connected to mine, that shuts the conversation down. It does not have to matter. Now that we've found each other back, we believe again we have all the time in the world. Maybe it's a mistake. The state of our world, these days, tend to suggest we don't, we never know how much time we'll have and what exactly it'll be made of. I didn't actually answer but maybe the answer is so fucking evident, she should trust my lips and my hands and my eyes each time they linger on a part of her they seem to have a liking for. And perhaps, she could just accept me and everything else along and assume rightfully that if I wasn't saying it all, it wasn't because I didn't feel it, didn't want to, didn't have anything to say but because I could not. "The gears in that head of yours are killing the mood," I mumble against her cheek, bothered by her loss of commitment, here again, to make me feel lonely when she's just right fucking here. "What is it?" I ask in a gentle whisper.

Here above her, close enough to still share breath but far enough to see her face, it's impossible to act like a dick. Her eyes are shiny, dripping emotions. I can see them clearly without knowing exactly how to read them. She's held back by so many things but as always a timid mouth won't let them slip. I've yet, after all this time, to decide if I love or hate that about her. She can be so open, in appearance, she's animated, she's enthusiastic, she's bright and welcoming. But at the same time, the corridor she lets you in hides a door at the end that she simply cannot allow to let you slide through. I've caught glimpses of this room when she left the door ajar a few times, mostly when I'm balls deep in and maybe a bit too soft when I whisper sweet words in the shell of her ear. She's mostly a mirror of myself, a better version though. When my eyes can look bored, uninterested and sometimes borderline mean, hers are always soft, always kind. It doesn't matter what or who they are set on. Even when she's upset, when I've said something she didn't like to hear, when she's been teased one too many times by Taehyung or her boss has been a fucking asshole all day long, she'll have her eyebrows cutely dropping down, mimicking anger and failing poorly because the eyes, right under it, are still as tender and bright and beautiful. Right now the door is ajar and from what I can see in her eyes, she looks like she's in love with me. It's pure torture because I know, and I can see that too, that even if it were to be the case she wouldn't say, she wouldn't say the words, not to me, not like that anyway, she couldn't. Perhaps I'm seeing things. Perhaps it's wishful thinking, or worse, my own reflection I catch in her eyes without recognising it. After a few seconds of her deliberately ignoring my question and me not getting impatient because I get to just watch her, I decide it doesn't really matter if she is or not in love with me if she keeps looking at me like that. The illusion so realistic, shocking my heart with delicious waves of electricity, I could live with that. "Yoongi?" And if she keeps saying my name like that, like a whine, like a shy little girl, I'll be spoiled forever. She says my name a lot today, I realise, as my spine is taken by an umpteenth wave of chill. Maybe she missed saying it. I surely missed hearing it. "Yeah?" I'm even more breathless than she is. Hovering above yet hanging from her mouth. I must look desperate to her. Even if this has the potential to tickle me the wrong way, I decide not to mind. It's pointless to fight back innate facts, isn't it? I am desperate for her, have been for fucking months, before even circumstances distanced us, I thought it could even end up killing me at some point. It was bad after a couple of weeks when I realised she'd still not called me. Not even a text or a word passed through Taehyung. Nothing at all and I had the sickening feeling growing in my stomach that it wouldn't change. After making sure she was ok, wherever she was, with whoever or maybe alone, she was fine and she was simply not reaching out for me, the torture really started. I just didn't get it. How could she, the most annoying little bug, stop doing what I thought her to like best, it is to say, bugging me? The last time we saw each other was fantastic. She had left slamming my door but with the pretty shade of infatuation on her cheeks, I had no doubt, even if things were not entirely cleared out yet -because I thought the cat and mouse game was entertaining to her as much as it was to me, and because at the time, we still felt like we had all the time in the world for this and for everything else- that we were good, better than good actually. I was confused, utterly lost. Too coward and too upset to reach out myself. If she wanted to talk to me, she would have done it, wouldn't she? She used to before. "Can you lie down? On your back, I mean." The request makes me raise an eyebrow. "You're always sorta on top of me, and I-" The sentence is never finished. She's embarrassed if the cute button of a mouth she wears along with the stealthy avoiding eyes are any teller. For some reasons, my heart beats faster in my chest in an uncomfortable thumping. Maybe I'm a grumpy old man. A grumpy control freak of an old man who's terrified by the least changement. Because Change to me, in all honesty, sounds horrifying -which sounds ridiculous given chances were bet on changes that ended up bringing the life that I now live, some rollercoaster, made of the worst up and downs sitting on top of the least trustworthy, stable ground. It's scary, feels ominous even when it's just my now-girlfriend sweetly starting to ask, and demand for things in my bed. Maybe I need to chill. Match better the chaos that's inside with the unbothered, emotionless exteriors. All I can think about is how lame her justification sounds given, "I can recall quite a good amount of times when you were on top.", and therefore, freak out about what's really behind her request. She frowns then glares, right in my eyes, at last, and sighs. She's being the snarky little girl who doesn't want to discuss and that's cute. That's adorable because I'm on top and I decide but she thinks she can control, demand from me. And she'd be right. She can ask anything from me. She always could. Rolling my eyes like I don't care, lazily rolling on my back like I'm not nervous as hell to just lay there for her, I watch carefully and savour the way she bites on her smiling lips, ecstatic as she is to have been granted an upperhand over me. She takes the seat she owns on my thighs, a mischievous glint decorating her gaze. "Do you remember our first time?" It does the trick. Her ephemeral sense of confidence flatters and she sinks down a little on herself -conveniently on my crotch-, flushing darkly. "I'm not senile, 'course I remember." Softly, the pads of my fingers press on her covered thighs. My eyes fixed on her lively face. She can't really bear it, they might burn her a little. She tries to flee, falling over, hiding her face in the crook of my neck. Her lips brush my skin, she sighs there, it's a wonderful, dip into her. "Remember the first time?" "I just said yes." She whispers the same way I do. I pinch very lightly the back of her thigh, not to hurt, just to warn her because she has a little edge to her tone. Of course, she'd be so impatient when I find myself able to be patient. "When we met for the first time." She leans back, curious eyes peeking at me. A lock of hair is brushing her cheek, I drag it behind her ear, kissing her lips with my thumb because I'm too lazy and laid too comfortably to try and raise up to her mouth. She frowns for a second before she shrugs. I can see she doesn't get where I'm going with that. If she can't even remember, she surely won't see. "You were in the kitchen with Tae, being loud as hell until I came in and you just stopped talking altogether." She rolls her eyes. "I thought you hated me." "I was just shy." She's a bit vexed that I'm bringing it up. I know that she hates that, when it's pointed out, that she gets shy and embarrassed and timid. I understand because I'm the same. The difference between us is that I hide pretty well my inner turmoil with a mask made of coldness, of confidence or disinterest. "You were, weren't you? Now, look at you..." Her eyes don't quit mine. She knows damn well what I mean. "Sitting on me like you're sitting on a throne." She actually giggles at that, tilts her head to the side, gaze going up to the skies as if she's considering the thought, a blatant giddy feeling of importance and timid pretension written all over. She knows it's right. I'm not sure to what extent she understands how much she owns me but she knows there's something big that's unsaid if she's allowed to just have me like that just from asking -only mildly politely. "Could have imagined that, princess?" She's too honest, shakes her head no. I smile lightly, amused because now that I've raised the question, I realise I couldn't have imagined that either. I didn't like her too much at the beginning. Or to be more precise, she gave me a bad first impression. I'm never good with new people but this girl, it just went wrong. I'd been chanted so many praises about her and when finally, I got to meet her because she was for once hanging out at the dorms when other people than Taehyung and Jimin were here, she shut off as soon as I walked in, for some reasons I didn't get at the time, decided to be unfair and that I was not deserving of her infamous sweetness. The stark contrast between her bright boisterous peals of laughter before I entered the room and heavy mean silence once I'd sat on one of the bar stools made me livid. I thought it'd be the end of it. I wouldn't get to know the person, the "amazing person", I've been told about because I wasn't meriting somehow. And after months of forced proximity, because she kept being invited over, involved with outings, something clicked within her and she became the annoying little brat I've known her to be and just had to grow fond of -because it was easier than to just stay reluctant to her advances and become mad each time she'd come to me. It didn't take too long, if I'm being totally honest, to go from deeply confused vexation to an out of character giddy fondness. I've never said it. Don't really plan on doing it. Even now that I'm feeling all mellow and sappy as fuck. She doesn't need to be told from my mouth anyway. I'm pretty sure Namjoon, if he hasn't had a word about this yet, will do later. And from her ever insistence, her never flattering determination even when I, from self-admission, had been harsh or mean in the way I could have told her off, I suspect she knows, she's always known. Her dizzying smile tastes the sweetest and her annoying voice is addicting, as if dipped in a thick layer of dopamine. And I'm too weak for pretty smiles matching pretty eyes, and for brats harassing me with their affection. Therefore when she starts peeling my shirt off of me and spreading her kisses everywhere she can reach, I don't say anything even though I half-hate it. I hate feeling exposed like that when she's fully clothed and on top of me. I don't really like in general being too naked especially for her knowing what she has for me compared to what I've got for her. And she's touching me, one of her hand pressing my wrist onto the mattress and I know what it means, she doesn't want me to protest or try and touch her. I don't because I want to be good for her, for once, not be an ass and impose everything because she seems to want peculiar things today and I can do that for her. But I adore the way she's humming against my skin, smiling uncontrollably against it and sprinkling the most tender kisses. For once, I'm letting her have her way, and won't thrash and push her over to get the upper hand I prefer to hold, bear with the flush burning my cheeks and speeding my heart. It is nice to have her being so willing to take her time with me, with loving me, as if she really wants me. She's also very much hot precisely where she presses her centre to my cock and my patience, if exceptionally efficient today, has limits. "You-" I'm cut off by a strong shudder born from her tongue swiping along my jaw and the little suckle on my ear that follows. "Undress." I groan once half of my composure found back. "No." The short but firm answer triggers me, without taking a second to think, my hand, the one she hasn't been holding hostage, raises and seizes the back of her thigh meanly. "What do you mean no?" "Yoongi, listen. I think I'm tired of you bossing me around." My eyes grow wide at that. She has the acutely tiny singing edge to her voice, the one that I know well for it rings louder every time she's embarrassed or doesn't feel the most confidence. But she's standing straight and tall on her throne, pressing steadily on my crotch as she slowly explains how this will go, her way. "Now that I come to think of it-" A hard grind stealing a huff from me. "You couldn't even- you couldn't even ask me out properly! I did it! I do everything all the time and you still get to choose? That's not fair." "If I remember correctly I always make sure you come first, don't I? So how unfair is that, princess?" She pouts. Stops moving altogether. I can picture her in a second raise her arms to her chest and cross them tight there, frowning and sulking. The little girl is upset. She's adorable. I suppose she hopes to intimidate me somehow or to make me swoon enough to give in. It does the opposite though. The more she pouts, the brattier she gets, the more she tickles my fancy. And I always want more. She's all the more fun when she's feisty too. "I have something in mind, Yoongi." I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Hers lower down, condescending, unwilling to give up her position. "I want to take care of you." She says, voice quieter from her prior disdainful approach. The Adam apple seems to double in size in my throat when I try to swallow this time, struggling so much so it's audible. I think I knew. I suspected something the moment she started to stare at me with those eyes. I just thought I could get away somehow, I managed to many times before. She's pretty easy to manipulate, a firm precise press of my fingers, a hot whisper to tease her core and she'd let it go. I'm pretty weak today though and here she is saying words that set me off, reach someplace dusty and far, so far away hidden within me that it feels uncomfortable. The trigger is uncomfortable. It's scary. I don't know what it'll be. I don't know how I'll handle it. I don't know if I ever want to try. Sincerely, the greatest and easiest pleasure I've ever had to indulge in has been hers. In her pleasure and her body. Her orgasms I tasted on my tongue, the ones that hug me tight, have always been the most spectacular. "You don't need to take care of me." I need to take care of you. I'm not sure where it comes from. I've come a long way in my own personal journey, I now know I deserve more than I used to believe I did. Yet I don't, I can't imagine her being the one taking care of me. It needs to be me. I need to spoil her. "You don't like that? When someone... focuses on you?" I think about a lie or a little distractive thing to say. I choose to be frank. If there's a day to be and a moment and a person with whom to be, it must be it. "Not really." "Maybe because you're not used to it. Wouldn't you like that? Because I want to. I thought about it a lot." That's the issue with her. She owns the power. Ultimately she does. Even if she doesn't feel like it, she does. Always. Today it shows in more ways than one. She's so eager, so excited, I don't know how to disappoint her. Reluctant but kindly enough, I ask. "What did you think about?" My mouth is dry as hell. I don't understand how I can be filled with so much anxiety, still. When I feel this old and this wise, and so pleased and spoiled yet, still, terrified. It should just be heaven. I don't get why sometimes the sweetest things have to be so scary to take a bite of. She smiles to herself, satisfied to find me willing to hear her. It's a shadow of promise. I will judge later on if she'll get what she wants or not. For now, I'm just hearing her out. She's sweet and she deserves to express herself. In no time, she meets me centimetres away. She's leaned over, forearms pressing a bit on my chest to keep herself from crashing completely onto me. She's beaming through her eyes, mostly, shining intensely in the dim light as she observes my face from up close. There's the scent of her shampoo, the vanilla coconut mix that I used to be obsessed with, smelling around me even when she wasn't there. It's awfully comforting to have that too sweet smell again, for real this time, teasing my senses and waking up a lovely nostalgia. With the tips of her hair brushing slightly the bare skin of my neck, how am I supposed to refuse anything she asks me. "I realised that we've never- I've never got to- taste you." The last words are not even pronounced out loud. There's the t I read on her teeth biting slightly her pink tongue, the rest of the syllabus she just gives up on and it's for me to read on her lips. Given how obsessed I am with them, the task is not that demanding, her request couldn't be clearer to me. I should be ecstatic, shouldn't I? I'm not. I'm nervous as hell. I don't know what's wrong with me. "That's what you thought about a lot? My dick in your mouth?" She flushes bright pink but doesn't waver. She decided she's a big girl and gets to fantasise about what she wants and she won't be shamed for it, not now that's she's grown the courage to ask aloud. I chuckle humourlessly. "Princess." I can almost see her ears point out at the pet name. She seems to like it. I think I'm keeping it. "You're too pretty to have a dick in your mouth." Her face twists in the loudest mask of indignation and revolt. Straightening her back again to stand tall over me, she looks down on me under her severe set of frown eyebrows. "What does that even-" Her hand falls flat on my chest, meeting the skin hard enough for a sharp slapping sound to resonate in the quiet room. "Yoongi! It doesn't make anyone any less pretty to- what are you even saying? How can you- Why are you diverting? You're always diverting-" She raises her hands to the sky in pure bewilderment. Her face is still contorted in anguish though, I can tell she's not done arguing about this. "I'm telling you I want you in my mouth and you- what do you say to me?" I can't really hold back the cackling laughter erupting straight from my bosom. She's startled by it, upset still but unsure of how serious I am and for some reason, when she stares at me laughing, the tiny shadow of a smile colours the corner of her mouth. The tempting beautiful thing suddenly appears only a few centimetres from my face. She looks down on me with all the seriousness she can gather, eyes squinted tight. "Are you serious, Yoongi? Do you really not like that?" How honest should I be? The ever same existential question. How honest can I be? "Because you- like everything else and I thought you liked going down on me but- do you not like receiving?" Because my own personal question is loud, louder than the soft whisper of her voice, and so much more pressing because finding the answer seems to be more essential, it'd answer her questions and a lot more, the ones she may have but never dare ask. I hope to find the answer or at least a hint of it in her eyes. I don't know any other more evident places where to look for it. My quiet gaze shuts her off a little, I see how she doesn't physically back away but there is something in her eyes wavering and suddenly she looks kind of sad. She might just be disappointed but the effect is immediate, I feel my heart cracks. "I just," I raise for a second just to find some courage on her mouth. "I'm better at giving, it's all. I feel weird just sitting here and taking, it's just weird." It's just hard. "But it's the very principle of Lo-" She cuts herself off before she finishes but too late for me not to make out the last syllable. "Of what?" I ask, a growing crooked grin teasing. I allow myself that because I know that I can't get her there. She might even be more scared than I am. That's funny how I find ease in teasing her in those places yet I know that if we really do get there and start being serious about it, or if she'd dare tease me back, I'd lose my shit. I can hardly handle her calling my name in a whine as if she needs me so much she can't handle me not being a constant part of her. "Do you really not like that? Like not want it?" She asks, eyes boring in mine, looking all serious and grave. I can't disappoint her when she looks at me like that. I don't want to. "I don't want to do anything you wouldn't want or like but-" Gently, the pad of my thumb caresses her soft cheek. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve her. I'm pretty sure there's been a mistake somewhere, an error in the matrix. While I'm not bad, I'm quite good as a person, I'm persuaded that pretty girls with hearts that gentle can't be for me. I can't even tell her how beautiful she is. "Actually no buts. Just, do you want it or not?" How could I say no? When she asks so nicely, so many times to and of course, she looks the way she does. I might be a huge hypocrite. Turning this into her using her charms to get what she wants rather than me accepting to be selfish because it's easier that way. Nonetheless, it's almost reluctantly, with a fat lump in my throat that I let out a tiny, "'Kay." She leans over, eyebrows high. "Was it a yes?" I hum, rolling my eyes a bit. I'm feeling embarrassed, too embarrassed, and she's bouncing on my cock like it's the most exciting news she's heard all year -which might actually be given the circumstances.

It's nice but confusing.

Does she like me that much or is she just really into giving heads? Suddenly I have flashbacks of all those times she got on her knees to fetch something from a low hanging shelf, or under the coffee table. I just thought, innocently, that she had no sense of adulthood and she didn't realise, that once adults are grown they don't get on their knees like children, looking up to you talking like it's not weird at all. Like it's not suggestive at all. Like if I were just to ask nicely she'd probably say yes and I'd be the opening of a pants' fly away from sitting comfortably on her tongue. I can't lie and say that I've never thought about it. Evidently. I have. Probably each and every time she's done that little supposedly innocent thing, and then, a few other times in between. She's giddy when she leans even further, sliding off to the side of my lips when she tries to smooch them. She's even giddier when she crawls down my body, hoping to the side so that she can start unfastening my belt and jeans. She's giddy but quiet when she starts pulling my pants off of me. She's feeling timid, I can read it on her cheeks, but she can't possibly be as much as I am. I don't think I've ever had her undress me like that, in the open, when the light is too bright for comfort and her eyes so focused on me. Now that I come to think of it, I can count on one hand the number of times I've been naked with her. And it's never been like that. With her not fucked out enough to not pay so much attention. With her eyes roaming over me, and every now and then glimpses to my face, gaze smiling and tender. The gaze doesn't leave me as her tiny hand tentatively reaches for my covered shaft. It still remains there, attached, for the longest time, while her fingers pressingly roam over it. I twitch under the touch, heart pounding harder, full of anticipation and anxiety. "Don't drag this shit forever." Maybe I could be nicer. Maybe I could show more patience -if I hadn't been so challenged all evening, I'd probably have some left but clearly, I don't. Maybe I could be less of an ass, I could precisely be the sweet, lovely boyfriend she deserves when she's moments and centimetres away from swallowing me down her throat. Probably I should make more efforts. Or learn how and when to make them. I'm probably not the most practical right now. Being rough when I should be sweet and sweet when she needs me to push her a bit. "But I wanna take my time." She says that with a smile on her pink lips, not vexed at all. And here she proves once again that maybe I don't know shit about her and women in general. Because when I feel like she should get offended or at least aggravated, she just takes me in and finds something that she likes in my insufferable self. I simply bite on my lip, pensive. Doesn't say much to her but she sees it and translates it a way that fits me well. A lazy blink later, I have the ghost of a new kiss on the corner of my mouth and then her lips tightly wrapped around my tip, concealing the fresh breeze of air that her undressing me completely brought. It's undefinable, the sensation of her hot wetness wrapped around me. She doesn't waste a second, visibly having changed her mind about taking her time, trying to have me as far as she can. Bobbing her head and sucking me in with so much enthusiasm, I have red flushing my cheeks when I hear the sounds that she makes, wondering if I seem as desperate, as voluntary, as messy when I do eat her cunt - and the rash comes directly from the blatant, easy answer: a big fat yes. Of course, it would feel that good. When her pussy feels like some Heaven, naturally her mouth would have me like that. In no time, my cock is rock hard and balls tight and ready to blow. It's been months since I've felt this good and even then, I didn't have that treatment. Having someone and her, at that, giving so much of herself, I see the way she tries to catch back some air, frowning because I'm pretty sure her jaw is hurting a bit, jerking me off fast to compensate the lack of warmth and her pretty, pretty eyes, smiling at me, doing the most. My thighs are tensing, my right leg keeps jerking upward uncontrollably, fists holding tight onto the sheets, overwhelmed. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this. And maybe I'm going to doubt the universe placing this stupid princess on my way even more now that I've had her been so good to me, by just being herself, especially given that she's turned out to be an expert and a passionate at sucking my cock. "Fuck" Here goes my tip hitting the back of her throat again. And her hands, soft and encouraging, playing with my balls, pad of her thumb pressing sometimes between my perineum. "S-stop, I need to-" "You'll fuck me later, come in my mouth." She demands, breathlessly, diving back in before I even get to protest. "You can't say shit like that." I whiningly stutter, she's brought fucking tears to my eyes. I see blurry as I stare at the ceiling, vainly trying to hold back my climax. It makes her chuckle a bit, hum something I can't possibly understand with her mouth full and bells ringing in my ears, all I capture is the vibration it sends to my whole shaft, tickling along my spine, making me bent it embarrassingly. "Really wan'you to come-" She mumbles, lips making out with my tip in the process. "Then swallow me down." It comes out before I plan on it, before I mean to say it, through gritted teeth. She slides down my length, taking me in, like my every word is her command. The unexpected rush of pleasure, like an electric shock, seizes my hand which jumps to her head and decides to stay there, fingers fighting against the very weak remain of my brain cells to grab and clench and tear the head of hair they laid on. It's when I meet the back one more time and she decides to swallow down just then that I reach it, spilling down her throat, growling aloud without meaning too, spurring few words I probably wouldn't say to her if my mind wasn't so cloudy. I'm somewhere else. Body empty of any tension and I realize that a blowjob is exactly all I needed all those months. I haven't felt this relaxed and satiated and satisfied in so long, I feel dizzy and a bit lost. Even my own bed feels foreign, maybe it's just because she's on it. Smiling down on me with her small fingers painting shape on my skin and her pretty smile kissing my chest. She kisses her way up, leaving a path of warm sprouts, takes her time right on my drumming heart, smooches my cheeks with a tiny giggle that blooms probably from the red dots I assume are on them. She looks down on me, eyes sparkly and lips stuck in an upward curve. I see her hesitating. She's unsure of something I don't get because she just blew my mind off. My fingers knead gently the flesh of her thighs, inviting her to speak if there's something she needs to say. Her soft finger presses on my lips and she raises an eyebrow. "I don't know if I can kiss you..." "Why?" I ask, probably a bit too abruptly because I'm stupid right now and I don't understand under what circumstances she couldn't press her mouth to mine. She rolls her eyes evidently, scoffs and finally points at my crotch then her mouth, flushed all over her cheeks, when she sees me still struggling to understand. "Course you can. You always can." She shrugs, eyes fleeing away. I kiss her hard on the mouth, the hand buried in her hair pressing her further onto me. I consider vaguely how gross she might believe me to be when really, I'm just a bit too whipped for her and cum, no matter if it's mine or hers and shockingly enough I realise anyone else's too, I don't fucking care, any of her kisses are kisses that I want to consume. I roll her over on the bed and kiss her harder, licking and sucking her tongue until she's just wide eyes glinting up to me. "You can always kiss me." She nods, swollen lips tilting up. She doesn't find me too gross, it seems. Good. "And thanks." One kiss. "Was really nice." She tries to bite back her grin but fails, tittering even as I pinch lightly the side of her waist. "Was it nice for you?" I kiss the side of her jaw, smiling against her as I continue, purring close to her ear, "Just like you imagined?" I can feel her frustration before she even expresses it by raising a fist ready to punch me. It makes me chuckle. That's what she deserves for putting me in this situation anyway. I can't be the only one embarrassed, especially when I made an effort to content her -even if to content her was to content me but it doesn't matter. When my hand slides so naturally down her stomach, fingers strumming teasingly along the hem of her pants, the nagging and the arguing should be postponed for now. "You're an-" I slide easily under her clothes, palm cupping perfectly her cunt, it cuts her off. She gasps, eyes growing wide as they stare off at the ceiling, biting on her lip. "I'm what?" "Nothing." She grunts between tight jaws, both mad and horny and that's just too funny. I'm enjoying this immensely, torturing her kindly, while my fingers dip in her soaked heat, with her lips centimetres away so that I can kiss them as much as I want. She responds to all of my kisses. Tense her neck every time I part away for a second to take a look at what I'm doing, at her overall form, her laying in my bed with her twitching legs parting to give me more access. "I'm nothing? That's mean." "Yoongi, not now." I catch the curse she doesn't spit in my face before she gets to swallow it back down. The prospect that things should be cleared out now and that this will happen again, and again, and again until the day she decides she's tired of me drives me wild with excitement. It means I'll get to push her buttons and piss her off enough she'll curse at me the way she rarely ever does Taehyung when he's reaching her very limits of patience. Maybe I'm a bit gross, at least a bit freaky, if the idea of her mad beyond herself, calling me names yet simultaneously letting me play with her body like that turns me on so much. "When if not now, princess?" She pulsates around my fingers at that. It has to be the name. How lovely. How adorable. So adorable I can't help but grin giddily, effectively hiding my face in the crook of her neck so she doesn't catch me when I do. "You're so close already." "Shut up." "All worked up just from having my cock in your mouth." She groans, closes her eyes tight as if she's trying to focus all her attention on my fingers fucking her. "So easy to please, I'm a lucky bastard, am I not?" I keep mumbling next to her ear because I don't care what she pretends, I know she loves hearing me and I can bet with great confidence on what she loves to hear me say. "Having a girlfriend like you-" "Oh my Go- Yoongi-" "Come for your man." So easy to please. I know I'm not reaching the spot she likes best because her fucking pants are in the way. I've learned that the stretching is something she enjoys thoroughly and from how tense and on edge she got herself, my three fingers are doing wonders, dragging the ring along with every thrust. But I'm sure, I know, what's triggering her. She's too much like me. Probably worse than me. So desperate to feel the love, and here she is, coming around my fingers but mainly around my words when I'm just calling her mine. It takes her ages to come back to her senses, to stop desperately drinking my love straight from my mouth, and for her sweet cunt to stop kissing the tip of my fingers and let me slip them out. She's fucked out when she's back. Hair I barely touched all over the fucking place, eyelids heavy, mouth red and swollen, eyebrows low and eyes wet the way they get when the pleasure is so good she becomes a bit too soft and sensible and sometimes a tear or two escape. I get to clean her up a bit, rearranged her clothes and then realise that she's actually spending the night with me so I might as well get her pants off, throw my own pants away and put some shorts on, turn off the lights, and catch her in the most comfortable spooning session I've personally ever had before I feel her alert and with me entirely. "You okay?" She nods her head, blinking a few times more than necessary when she watches me raise my fingers to my mouth and mechanically lick them clean. In a whisper, after too long of laying quietly in the dark -apart from the angry stomping going on in the hallway along with mumbled curses that can only come from Seokjin and that we both decide to ignore- she timidly asks, "So we're dating, Min Yoongi?" "We've always been dating, dumbass." Which is not exactly true, not exactly false. To me, anyway, if she'd ever come to decide that the whole thing was just a fling then, it would have been just that. But I'm pretty sure she's always liked me as much as I have and even if I never expressed it clearly, I don't just fuck around like that. Especially with girls as sweet as her. And I don't really get that words define what we are anyway. Nothing changes now that I've said that. Maybe she's happier with the situation and that's all I want therefore I can give them to her, but honestly, yeah, to me we've always been each other's. "You're an asshole." "I'm your asshole." I don't know if she can hear my grin but the exasperated sigh suggests she does. "That's- gross." She still kisses my cheek and then my chest, huddling to my side, humming to herself when my arms wrapped around her squeeze a little harder. She's warm and soft and all mine, and when the realisation hits, that just a few hours ago she was infinitely far away from me, and now she's here in my arms, in my bed, (kind of) officially just mine to please and enjoy, my heart swells. That's all I've needed.

A/N: Guess what, it’s one of my new year resolutions to STOP taking a break from writing and this blog. *clown*

I hope it wasn’t too bad, too stiff. I meant to give this couple a nice ending because I got attached to them as quite a lot of you have. Hopefully, you’re not disappointed and sorry if it was so angsty but I guess, my heart felt a bit heavy writing it. SOZ

I'm already working on another story I’m really excited about and inspired for. I’ll try to have it release very soon.

If you’ve come this far, THANK YOU immensely. I LOVE you.

I hope all of you and your loved ones are doing fine. My best wishes for this new year. Let’s meet here more often.

#ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts scenario #my writing

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