#holds him up.... LOOK AT HIM.... but don't perceive him

[haute-honey]

I feel like shaking the table in honor of the last day of this mercury retrograde.

DISCLAIMER: Astrology is subjective and should never be looked at as definitive. So, when you're viewing astro observations or notes, please take it with a handful of salt. Including this post. This spiritual shit is meant to teach you more about yourself, not to solve all your problems or give you the answers to life's biggest questions.

scorpio sun is the worst scorpio placement to have and I wish you all would stop including them with other scorpio placements bc they are totally different vibe.

taurus' placements are who yall think scorpio placements are.

also, taurus men 🤝 sabotaging their own attractiveness.

Why don't we also talk about how having heavy Saturn placements, Venus-Saturn, Saturn in 7th, etc. as a young person makes you more susceptible than the average young person to being groomed/sexually assaulted by older individuals?

I hope that everyone of you who hold on to the stereotype of libras being liars meets a libra who is not only not scared of being honest, but cuts you deeply with the truth 🙃

scorpio moon women 🤝 never forgiving your father for mistreating your mother.

Black gemini sun men 🤝 loving white/racially ambiguous women.

Pisces men 🤝 lacking authentic charisma

What is with aquarius suns and being able to articulate themselves or a situation in an intellectual manner but still ending up in the stupidest, avoidable, thoughtless circumstances? Like does your brain work or not?

I think people with prominent aquarius placements tend to like the idea of being perceived as intellectual rather than doing the actual work or feeling the brunt of being an intellectual. For example, J. Cole the rapper (aqua sun) appearing to be very "woke" in his earlier work just for him to expose himself later on by saying he doesn't even read books..................

Oh to be a woman with prominent libra placements or stellium... you encounter jealousy from all genders and its unfair because no matter what we they do, people will still send the evil eye regardless. Avoid being in situations where you're the big fish in a small pond.

not an observation but really wish yall would stop tagging shit that has nothing to do with astrology or astrology observations. yall annoying af.

#astrology observations #astrology #astro observations

[bylertruther]

noah and charlie's acting chemistry is phenomenal and i feel like even if we sang their praises for it every day until we died it still would not be enough

#they rly sell the unconditional love and i knew you before you were even born and i see you n know you and i feel safe with you and and— #best friends... brothers... the love comes thru with their physical acting i don't kno wht else to say #will slumping bc he doesn't have to hold himself up anymore n pretend and jonathan looking n perceiving n knowing n feeling #will's pain as if it were his own nd the way tht will looks soooo much more at peace after jonathan cheers him up and how #jonathan moved in the shootout jus . head in hands they do their thing every time

[endlessthxxghts]

Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

masterlist | updates blog

It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town. 

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason. 

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you. 

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction. 

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it. 

You are worth it. 

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.” 

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you. 

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge. 

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?” 

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up. 

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you. 

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of. 

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you. 

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts. 

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements. 

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter. 

“I said—” 

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm. 

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you. 

Well, apparently not everyone. 

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back. 

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips. 

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him. 

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines. 

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him. 

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life. 

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.” 

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you. 

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take. 

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now. 

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom. 

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming. 

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless. 

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself. 

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking. 

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered. 

Fuck. 

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you. 

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?” 

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics. 

You quirk your eyebrow at him. 

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure. 

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries. 

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here. 

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps. 

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it. 

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him. 

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to. 

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout. 

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him. 

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you. 

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming. 

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze. 

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again. 

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend. 

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces. 

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest. 

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks. 

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?” 

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)

#endless thoughts fics #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedrostories #one shot #fic #smut fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut

[kithtaehyung]

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

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

-

-

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.” 

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 

“And you’re paying me double.” 

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 

However. 

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 

And you don’t like it one bit. 

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 

“What?” 

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 

“After what he did to you?” 

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

-

-

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 

Motherfucker. 

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 

Weird. 

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!” 

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 

You want to believe him. You do. You do. 

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 

And you mean that. 

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 

-

-

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 

Finally. “Hello.” 

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 

“You’re here?” 

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 

“…No.” 

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 

Shit, this is everywhere. 

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 

“I still need to—” 

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 

“Do you even know?” 

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 

“That’s cus—” 

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then. 

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 

“Whoa, hold u—” 

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 

“Just listen—” 

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 

“I swear to—” 

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation. 

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 

“Asshole—” 

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 

“Do it yourself then.” 

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 

“Nah.” 

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 

“Then fucking come.” 

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 

“I said again.” 

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 

“Yoongi—” 

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.” 

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 

“There you go. Keep going.” 

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know you don’t make promises but—” 

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 

“How about we share it.” 

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 

“Okay.” 

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 

Scroll, scroll. 

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 

Scroll, scroll. 

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 

His eyes. 

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 

No. 

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 

Again. 

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 

Swelling, you already feel close. 

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins. 

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you. 

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 

“Guess what.” 

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 

“I can!” 

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

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tbc. :)

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

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#AHHH it's finally here! #bts fic #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fanfic #ryenwrites #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #3tan12 #*latest

[bettymylove]

Hiii, just started following you, your work if amazing 👏 love it. I love smut but I love fluff as well. Was wondering if you could do a fluff for me.

Reader × Theodore nott

Reader is shy, sensitive and can't say no to anyone. Reader and Theo are already dating and he is super overprotective. One day when she's in class, a boy asks her to tutor him so she starts tutoring him, but during their lesson he starts touching her is inappropriately, she ends up leaving in tears(he didn't do much, he just touched her thighs then shouted at her when she complained). Theodore finds her crying and finds out why and beats the guy up till he has to visit a hospital. I know its long 😭 I just love jealous men

protect

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: read the ask, warnings: fighting, use of the word slut and whore, crying, inappropriate touching

a/n: I love jealous men too😭

Theo had not one idea as to why you were with him. You were a complete sunshine, never said no to anyone and were by far the kindest human theo had ever met.

Though people try to take advantage of your kindness, Theo's always there to protect you. He hates seeing his girl unable to say no even when she wants to and so, he helps her when he can.

However on that particular Saturday morning, your boyfriend hadn't accompanied you to breakfast, running late as usual and you had been approached by a boy in your class.

He had taken the opportunity of the empty seat beside you, which you saved for Theo, and decided to sit on it. Mattheo looked at him with an amused expression, eager to see Theo's reaction.

Theo came stumbling into the great hall, no robe, tie askew, and eyes searching for his beloved. His eyes land upon you, along with your uncomfortable expression.

He sits beside Mattheo, "You've not said anything to this boy?" Theo looks at you while you nod your head at said boy once more and he gets up while having a mischievous smile on his face.

"You really think, if I had said something he would still be there?" Theo chuckled at the statement, getting up to finally sit beside his girlfriend.

"Morning darling, what was that about?" he had a toast in his mouth, hanging off. He was trying to find the butter and you were sure you've never seen a much cuter sight.

Your hands instinctively find his tie, adjusting it as you speak. "He wants me to tutor him this afternoon." You pat his tie one last time before returning to your breakfast.

Theo rolls his eyes at your naiveness and how you don't see that boy was flirting with you, but decided to not say anything.

Later that afternoon, you wished you were still with Theo when you were sitting in the library with the boy whose name you had forgotten by now was sitting way too close.

You had decided if he moved any closer you would say something, anything. His hand moved around your shoulders, awkardly pulling you in, while his other hand met your thighs and you pulled away.

Your pulling away didn't help because the hand around your shoulder only pulled you closer. "Please move away from me." You had finally let out.

"Why, cause you're a little slut, whoring yourself out for your little boyfriend?" His words hit you, is this how people perceived you?

You had finally broken free of his hold, pushing yourself up along with your bag and running towards your dorms.

You shut the door, threw your bag on the floor, and got in your bed. You hugged your knees to your chest and started bawling your eyes out.

It was evening now and Theo hadn't seen you, deciding to check up on you, he went to your dorm. Knocking slightly, he entered and immediately thoughts of worry filled him.

You had cried, that much was clear from your face, but he wanted to know why. He sat beside you and you immediately hugged him, starting to cry again.

"What happened darling?" He asked in the most gentle voice he could muster up. He was ready to kill whoever had done this to his girl, but first he needed her to calm down.

"That boy, from this morning he-" you choked up, remembering his words and his touch and feeling disgusted by it.

"What did that fucker do, did he touch you?" Theo was seething, his jaw was tensed, few of his veins were visible.

You nodded and continued, "He touched me here," You brought his hands to your thighs. "He called me a slut, who was whoring herself out for you" Your voice was heavy and you looked ready to cry again.

Theo pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, wiping your tears with it, and pulled you up on your feet. Getting your shoes, from beside your bed, he knelt and helped you put them on.

"Where are we going, Theo?" you asked while he held your hand and pulled you towards with him to his dorm, you had never seen him this angry.

"To show that idiot, whose girl he was messing with" Slamming the door to his dorm open, he went into his bathroom while Mattheo, Enzo, and Draco looked around in confusion.

Theo came out with a baseball bat, handing one to Mattheo who only grinned and yelled, "Hell yeah" at the sight.

Theo held your hand again, pulling you along with him once more but this time three more boys were accompanying you.

The boy was sitting at the table in the great hall, surrounded by his friends, Theo left your hand and kissed your forehead before pulling the guy backwards using his shirt.

He was on the ground, while all four of them were surrounding him, the boy's friends had ran after seeing exactly who had pulled him down.

"Do you really think, you will mess with my girl and I'll stay silent?" He asked, laughing slightly, swinging the bat over his shoulder and the guy had just started to utter some words before Theo's bat hit his leg.

He groaned out in pain, and you winced at the sight. All three boys had now begun hitting the boy with all their might.

Finally after a while, professor Snape had arrived to break off the fight, giving them all a week's worth of detention while carrying the boy to the hospital wing.

Theo's hand came up to clean his face while he walked towards you, putting your face in his hands he whispered, "I'll always protect you, no matter what" and all you did was smile.

#harry potter #slytherin #draco malfoy #theo nott #enzo berkshire #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott imagine #theo nott one shot #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #chitafluff

[messiahzzz]

i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?

but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?

player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?

gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.

gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.

gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.

gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.

player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.

gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.

once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.

gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.

any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.

gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.

nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him

gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?

nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.

he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.

player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?

gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.

player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?

gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.

gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.

gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.

aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.

once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?

minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.

minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.

gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.

player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...

gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.

all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?

essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.

gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.

nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania

he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.

tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.

as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.

we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:

gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.

gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?

gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.

tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.

tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.

player: gale is his own man, tara.

tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.

yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.

gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.

morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?

gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?

tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.

tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.

gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.

gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.

if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.

#buckle in this is gonna be a long one! #even for my standards #to be clear this is by no means meant as a slight against specific users #just here to clarify that it is definitely one of the worst outcomes for gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 epilogue #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 patch 5 #bg3 meta #god!gale #had this sitting in my drafts for days now but i am so sleep-deprived that i can't even tell if this is cohesive anymore (i apologize)

[kettlefire]

Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea

Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:

Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.

Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.

A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.

Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.

Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.

"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."

Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.

Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.

"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."

Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.

"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."

There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.

"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."

Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.

"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."

Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.

"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."

Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.

"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."

Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.

"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."

The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.

"Da... We... Help... They..."

Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.

"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."

Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.

"... I love you, Danny..."

Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.

It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.

Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.

That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.

And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.

#danny phantom #fandom things #fandom #multi fandom blog #fanfiction #dc x dp #dp #dpxdc #dc jason todd #jason todd #red hood #batfamily #the batfamily #danny phantom batman #dc batman #batman #bruce wayne #Jason has an ecto-signature #Danny ran away to Gotham to heal from parental trauma #Team phantom are the only ones that know this #so Tucker reworked the boomerang #Jazz recorded the message #and it was meant for no one else but Danny #whoospies #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #team phantom #guys in white

[angelltheninth]

Creepy Lovesick Genshin Men

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff but make it creepy, confessions, stalking, kidnapping, forced kissing, love bombing, cuddles, biting, marking, tail use, possessiveness

A/N: Let's make this creepy!

Kaeya kept an eye on you all night, watching as you were being ogled by various other people. He didn't like that one bit, he's been planning to confess to you for months but every time his job pulls him away. Well tonight he'll do the right thing. You didn't expect the great Captain to come to your rescue, but even less that he'd introduce himself as your boyfriend and try to kiss you. Why are you resisting, you gotta sell the act, it'll be fine, it's just one small kiss after all.

Diluc doesn't see what he does as stalking, just him making sure his favorite worker gets home safely. People can take advantage of a pretty woman like you, and he could never allow that to happen to you, he loves you too much. You think you see him sometimes, a flash of red on the roof, in the corner of your eye. But that's not your boss, it's just a coincidence that he always leaves after you. Right?

Itto is a very protective oni, one with the brawns needed to protect anything and anyone he cares about. Weather you like it or not he is your protector. He always happens to be at the right place at the right time, scaring away anyone who wants to hurt you and then saying he's hungry afterwards, he could use some good food. You could go with him, you could even make it a date. He promises to keep you to himself... eh, that is, the creeps away from you.

Childe will go to any length to make you his own, including getting rid of his perceived competition. By being the winner he thinks he's completely charmed you, proven himself to you, won your heart, when all he's proven is that he saw fighting as the only way out. Oh don't you worry, that's how he deals with those he doesn't like, but he loves you, he has much nicer things planned, many kisses in store for you, if you behave that it.

Dottore makes sure everyone knows that you belong to him. Not only does he make you dress only in the clothes he buys for you but it's all very short clothes where anyone who looks at you can see the evidence of the night before. Made by his hands, mouth and various other things he uses to mark your body. You should know, he only does this because he loves you, he loves you so much he would go crazy without you. You don't want that do you?

Pantalone keeps you close to him just so he can observe you. He's happy to look at you for most of the day, you're the most precious thing to him, so of course he would openly adore you and tell others of how great you are. You're so engrossed in his words that you barely notice his gloved hand taking hold of your wrist and making you stand by his side until you don't think you can stand anymore, so the only place to go is his lap.

Neuvillette tells you he loves you all too often. One would think there's no such thing but he says it with so much longing in his eyes, like he'll die of he doesn't say it. Don't even think of interrupting him, he'll hold you in place with his tail while he cuddles up to you after a long day of being apart. He missed you so much, this is his time to enjoy you, to make the rain outside finally stop pouring.

Wriothesley believes he's keeping you safe when he locks you up in his house. It's the only place where no one but him can reach you. What started as simple bodyguard work has developed into so much more. Neither of you thought it would come to this just from a few kisses but it did. He's grateful, he actually has someone to welcome him home now, someone to kiss, to cherish and truly call his.

Zhongli marks your whole body with bite marks, it's how he shows his love, not his possessiveness. He kisses each of these marks, treasures the sight of them on your skin, renews them every night, not even giving them a chance to heal, not wanting to risk someone looking at you thinking you no longer belong to him. The way his eyes glow when he looks over your body is nothing short of awestruck, his greatest treasure, wearing his marks.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #childe x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader

[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

#THEY RUINED MY LIFE /POS #I FUCKING HATE THEM /AFFECTIONATE #ivantill #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alnst #alien stage #에이스테 #ramble rumble #I don't know what happened #I had a thought and a neuron activated #I think I might have ascended #alnst spoilers #alnst round 6

[astonmartinii]

An Oscar piastri request because I have severe brain rot. Oscar Piastri x black American!reader. Like they met through Logan and Oscar is just downright obsessed with his girlfriend and everything she does. No pressure I just really enjoy the way you write.

southern charm | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem american!reader

once upon a time, in the magical land of the 305, one man would take the mantle of the ultimate wingman

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, arthurleclerc and 21,983 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: pov you're my phone when i'm watching oscar piastri tiktok edits

view all comments

user1: babe those edits are doing over time

yourusername: i don't like your tone. oscar is the sexiest man ever, end of.

user2: if your gf isn't arguing with randoms online over you, is she really your gf?

user3: she doesn't hold back when it comes to oscar, that's my GOAT

oscarpiastri: can you stop sending them to me i don't like being perceived.

yourusername: too bad because i want to perceive you

logansargeant: i'd argue she wants to perceive you too much

yourusername: only because you have no one to perceive you

logansargeant: you can't call me lonely when i got you your boyfriend

yourusername: 👋 👀 hey look it's the main contributor to the male loneliness statistics 👀 👋

oscarpiastri: y/n that's mean...

yourusername: but not wrong 😑

user4: i know they're joking but y/n does not hold back

yourusername: had to prepare him for the mean f1 bitches

landonorris: so this is the mysterious gf...

yourusername: watch your step at COTA, oscar may obey team orders but i DONT

landonorris: oscar???

oscarpiastri: i'm sorry y/n can FACTUALLY do no wrong so you're on your own here mate

yourusername: thank you baby. oscar supports women's rights and wrongs he is a hashtag ally

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 621,983 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: getting daily outfit updates from the love of your life >>>

view all comments

user5: oh this has to be one of the healthiest celebrity relationships ever

yourusername: omg mom i'm a celebrity

user6: hi can we please get the skincare routine?

yourusername: thank you for picking the ones where i look good baby x

oscarpiastri: you look good, GREAT IN FACT, in every photo ever - every waking moment

yourusername: you're too cute osc x

logansargeant: so you get this and i just get venmo requests?

yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game

logansargeant: what game are we playing it's just venmo requests for coffee because "i'm a girl i deserve it"

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds logical to me

logansargeant: wait does she not do this to you?

oscarpiastri: no? also just know we split the money so thank you for all of my morning coffees for the last two years logan x

logansargeant: i regret ever introducing you two

user6: obsessed with this nightmare trio

alexalbon: can confirm they are a nightmare

oscarpiastri: don't call us a nightmare on my gf appreciation post

lilymunhe: yeah alex, where's mine?

alexalbon: any trio that breaks my motorhome from getting to competitive during just dance can be categorised as a nightmare - hope this helps x

yourusername: is it because we didn't invite you?

alexalbon: it was literally MY motorhome?

oscarpiastri: we beat our best score on rasputin so sorry not sorry

user7: idk how people can say oscar has no personality when he literally would throw hands for y/n?

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 24,871 others

yourusername: practising my smize for the COTA paddock can't allow oscar to be the only one to slay in austin

view all comments

user10: any spare paddock passes miss?

logansargeant: so i'm not allowed to slay?

yourusername: i think you need to save up all of your slaying for the track to get that point on the board

logansargeant: Y/N ????? i'm trying :(

yourusername: sorry logie bear that was a low blow from me, i'm proud of you

oscarpiastri: talented. brilliant. incredible. amazing. showstopping. spectacular. never the same. totally unique. completely not ever been done before.

yourusername: did you just quote lady gaga?

oscarpiastri: yeah, got a problem with that?

yourusername: nope. you're my favourite little monster

landonorris: i thought this was a healthy relationship - don't call my teammate a monster 😤

yourusername: that's what lady gaga fans are called lando, i've called him much worse, bring ear plugs to cota ;)

oscarpiastri: WAIT NO MY PR TEAM SAID NO MORE SEXY TIMES ON PUBLIC PLATFORMS

yourusername: boring ...

user11: so excited for the best f1 wag to be back in the paddock

yourusername: appreciate it but i can't take the crown from real icon lily

lilymunhe: omg thanks y/n i can't wait to meet you !!

alexalbon: are you always as insane as logan says

yourusername: he's probably not wrong but i prefer the term charming

oscarpiastri: we're just very passionate about things

alexalbon: like just dance?

yourusername: no comment.

mclaren

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 1,092,347 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

mclaren: get someone who looks at you the way oscar and y/n look at each other

view all comments

user14: i came here to watch formula 1 not to feel LONELY

user15: okay who was going to tell me oscar had such a hot girlfriend?

logansargeant: trust me literally spend more than 30 seconds with him and you'll know

oscarpiastri: okay but y/n is the prettiest person in the world AND the smartest, funniest and kindest person ever so you WILL listen and appreciate her

yourusername: god i love you so much

user16: is she an aussie too?

yourusername: nope i pulled oscar with pure american southern charm

oscarpiastri: it's true she lassoed me like a cowboy and it was love at first sight

yourusername: let me clarify we were at a wild wild west party but it was defo love at first lasso

landonorris: get someone who looks at you the way i look at the MCL60 😍

user17: lando is one of us

landonorris: i feel lonelier now, around oscar and y/n, than i did right when i was broken up with

yourusername: easy to look like that when your boyfriend is a dashing, charming and humble gentleman + generational talent

oscarpiastri: hehehehe stop you're making me blush

logansargeant: you guys are so gross

yourusername: says the man that's literally an accredited wing man because YOU got us together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 37,988 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: that moment when you see the love of your life achieve his dreams !!!!!!!!!! NO FR oscar i am so so unbelievably proud of you, you deserve this so much. i love you, thank you for letting me be a part of your life x

view all comments

user21: they're my parents now they have no say in it

user22: consider me charmed

oscarpiastri: thank you so much my love, your support is everything to me and i can't wait to grow old with you

yourusername: my heart is yours now and forever ❤️

oscarpiastri: also i'm finding some way to frame you celebrating in my garage

yourusername: i couldn't contain my excitement, sorry to the mechanic who literally got tinnitus from me screaming lol

user23: her in the garage is real f1 fan representation

logansargeant: as much shit as i give you guys, you're so cute and i'm so glad you guys have each other

yourusername: thank you logan!! i forever owe you one for introducing us

oscarpiastri: i promise when you get into a relationship i won't once complain about it

landonorris: i was a cynic, but yeah you guys are very cute - i am endeared

yourusername: oscar tends to have that effect

oscarpiastri: ummmmm i think it's more you

landonorris: okay i said you guys are cute you don't need to prove it again

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 1,239,084 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: the best weekend ever and wishing i could just take you everywhere with me, until las vegas my love x

view all comments

yourusername: take me with you

yourusername: who cares about life responsibilities when i'm with you

yourusername: i'd say i'm a good luck charm but you're too talented to need one

oscarpiastri: i love you so much i miss you already

landonorris: you said goodbye five minutes ago... we've not even got to departures yet

oscarpiastri: is it illegal to miss the love of your life?

landonorris: when i'm not in a relationship? YES.

user24: the way oscar was horrified at arthur's 18 hour screentime, i bet his is just as bad now

oscarpiastri: no comment

yourusername: it's 16 hours lol

arthurleclerc: where is my justice? my apology?

oscarpiastri: we fall asleep on face time. i'm not chronically online i'm just terminally in love with my girlfriend

arthurleclerc: trust me we know

logansargeant: the way i know he's about to fly because @yourusername texts me - always the second choice :(

yourusername: oof i guess i'll nap instead

logansargeant: no i can still beat ur ass on 8 ball pool

oscarpiastri: you can't out do the doer soz bud

yourusername: i miss you come back, bullying logan was so much better together in person

note: i hope this was what you were hoping for! i love oscar so i'm always happy to write for him and i love a good comment squabble! thanks for requesting x

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + LET ME MELT INTO YOU

— ꒰ including ꒱ — heizou, pantalone, childe, alhaitham, xiao x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, kinda soft but also not ??

— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

heizou loved watching you like this, severely struggling to keep your emotions contained while holding yourself against the sheets with pretty tears covering each corner of your eyes.

at any different occasion he would've been in midst of the process of fucking you roughly, but tonight, he was greedy, heizou simply took a contrasting approach to the somewhat of a brat reminding behavior you set forth today.

don't get this wrong though, other times he adored whenever you bite back, it embarrassingly turned his loins on fire when he could clearly discern that you indeed tested him right now, enthusiastically waiting for a response from him.

it's never easy with him and ultimately the little game would finish in heizou triumphing over you, frankly, it didn't matter how much you went through the process of messing with his mind, he'd truthfully have you figured out from the very beginning.

it became a habit now, to watch you squirm, you'd regret you ever thought to have a single chance against him in the first place.

"h-heizou." your attempt to stop his rough touch on you ultimately failed as you lightly curved your back off the mattress when his length was remotely massaging over your soaked folds.

"hm?" it was pretty fucking clear that, like this, you're going to lose your damn mind, "it's too much!"

he gave you not a single chance to voice any rebuttal or apologize for being a little brat, leaving himself completely sheathed right in between the squishy flesh but not once coming close to your hole, to that one place you longed for him the utmost.

"oh!" you could distinguish the insincerity in his tone from a mile away. "i do apologize, dear."

your confused look quickly flashed before him when he playfully patted his cock head on your pussy, bathing in your whines.

they turned him on, the more you had exhaled them gravelly, more so in a shaking timbre, he could notice himself throb on your folds, "i wasn't able to note anything important from your mindless blabbering."

at his words, you felt the raw drag of his rough length again, almost torturous and messy, graciously rubbing it on your delicate flesh while simultaneously smearing the filth over your puffy clit to have you coated with both his pre and your slick.

the next shaking moan you heavily heaved went straight to his groin, "please, i'm sorry!" it didn't help that your body was jolting from the overstimulating factor of his precise targeting, that your eyes had grown glassy and low lidded, your lips swollen from the numerous amounts of times you bit down to muffle your noises.

heizou wondered if it was time to give you what you want, lazily grinding himself over your wet pussy before slowly lowering his head to chase your lips, indulging in your sweet cries, "do you think you'll be good now?"

— ꒰ PANTALONE ꒱

you spread your thighs for pantalone, a little more, while your fingers were playing with your entrance and putting on a show.

jaw slacked, you gently rubbed your middle finger over your hole, yet despite that still fending your gaze from him, being far too ashamed to see pantalone stare at you so intently, so, menacing almost.

"add a finger." he commands, it wasn't a question, it was something he required for you to do .. kind of, belittling, but you regardless do as he said.

with one hand you had yourself propped up and stabilized your entire weight on it while you naturally let the first finger be sucked in, only to the first knuckle with the slight split of your cunt being barely perceivable.

a slight relief washed over your skin as you felt your body heat grow, lightly pumping the finger in and out, "how does it feel?" pantalone's voice was low, tranquil and immensely controlling, "tell me everything."

while you pleasured yourself he slowly got rid of his pants, the jingle of his belt echoing through the room.

he was pulling them down entirely and quickly discarding of them with his boxers heavily outlining the big tent.

he beckoned you to move back to the headboard of the bed while he lowered himself to the mattress, settling in between your legs, "don't stop." your mind was dwindling with anticipation, one single finger of yours was nothing in comparison to the real deal, to pantalone's cock bottoming in and out of you in his usual fast approach.

"please." you're weakly heaving, "i need you." you didn't have to tell him, pantalone had already deciphered that by the wet squelching noises a single finger was capable of making, "be good."

he's urging you, pulling down his boxers with his cock springing free, grabbing it in his palm to lazily stroke his length while spreading his pre over the slit. "be good and i'll give you what you want."

you mewled but kept going, you felt an additional layer of pleasure inflicted on you once you carefully danced your eyes over the wonderful play right in front of you, that being him fisting his cock into the little tunnel of his hand.

you rubbed yourself faster and kept going, your nipples by now standing up and entirely erected as he, in a trice, swatted your hand away to abruptly fill you with his cock.

"f-fuck, baby!" your mouth hung low with your throat drying out when he quickly lowered himself to lay flat on your body, leaving you no time to adjust to him at all.

your legs wrapped around his waist in an instant, keeping him close when you cried into his shoulder, "you see?" he notes, still relaxed despite your cunt violently clenching down on his girth, "that's what you get when you behave."

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

you embarrassingly hid your face in the fabric of childe's jacket when you straddled him all graciously, in his office, where at any moment someone could come burst in and catch you both.

it was in vein to be mad at ajax for it, he treasured being close to you and although his work schedule was tightly packed, there was always some space to squish in some additional time with you.

"shh." archons, his slender hands fell absolutely maddening on your thighs, more when he playfully squeezed the skin, "you don't want someone to check up on the noise you're making, hm?"

of course you wouldn't want that, but fuck, childe made it extra difficult for you today. "I-i don't!" you were a panting mess, whining for the man that was the sole reason you were in this position in the first place.

his cockhead was repeatedly nudging onto the swollen splotches of your velvety walls, it all felt lewd and disgustingly good, tremendously hot when you continued to grind down on his erected member with his guidance.

"but-" he's smirking, his pretty eyes locking down on where you were soiling his clothes.

"i don't want you to get a wrong idea." childe was suddenly pulling your head towards him with one hand, placing his lips right in front of your ear, "i love the sounds you make for me." childe was bottoming out, entirely burying his length into you, "only for me."

you squeak at the roughened pace and held onto his neck for your dear life while he took over each square of control, tearing it from your grasp.

the string of tiny whines of his names weren't able to be spotted by him as he continued to use you as his cocksleeve, his dear angel who'd always be here to warm him up, to make him sloppily cum deep inside your pussy.

he was so warm, so big and you caught yourself clenching down on him with his thrusts becoming jagged, a harsh groan through his clenched jaw being the ultimate evidence of that fact.

you struggled to keep him all in yet childe found it adorable, as he always did.

how, whenever he dragged you down so you'd swallow his complete length, you'd quickly scrunch your brows together with a couple blurred wrinkles showing themselves on your forehead.

bringing you closer to him, he selfishly pulled you back and forth, the cutest look being laced on his handsome face when his ragged breathing was lurking on your skin.

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱

alhaitham could never tear his eyes off you, his gaze open wide, observing your every muscle grow rigid at every new raw drag of his cock within your walls.

he's so heavy in you and if you were trying to describe it, which was difficult in its entirety, you'd start on how overflowing it felt, how thick and strong inside, how it accurately rubbed over your sore spots.

he leaned forward to make sure to get a clear, good look on your teary expression, "you okay?" he whispers on your lips before dragging your hips towards him to have his cock fully enveloped by you, stilling his movements.

"y-yes." although it became quite difficult to breathe for you, from the way he had flushed his body on top of yours, it still didn't stir you off your hazy euphoria. "please move!"

between the weak knocks of your hand on his broad chest and your desperate mewls, alhaitham grazed you with the sweetest smile he had available.

"whatever you say." he knows you, every nook and cranny of your sweet spots embedded in his mind and he can see it, see how he was hitting all those spots by the corrupted expression on your face.

you flinched as your body went back from relaxing to being dragged back and forth by his bare hands, your tits bouncing up and down in tandem of his precise, deep thrusts.

your throat made it more difficult for you to voice a single syllable, instead you cried out in a chorus of unclear blabbering, every sharp ram of his cock, like a dagger, pinching against your warm skin.

you didn't expect him to be able to go quicker, the pace he went for now was maddening and thrilling, his eyes were too, dragging over every little square of your body, your cute tits, your swollen lips, squished tummy and hands playing with your sore nipples.

alhaitham felt seen, not only was it his dirty thoughts being able to rush out of him, or how he turned the little fantasies he had bristling in his mind into reality today, but how comfortable he felt with you by his side, didn't matter if next to him, or like right now, under him while he was fucking you brainless.

— ꒰ XIAO ꒱

all of xiao's focus was on you and all of your focus was on him.

it's as if the world stood still in this moment, in those fleeting seconds of pure joy inflicted on each other only you mattered to him.

being intimate in its complete form was a huge deal for xiao, it felt surreal to be able to lay in bed with you, make love and melt all his frustration into your body.

he was rough when he pushed his lips on top of yours, chasing your tongue with his own and suckling on your wet muscle when he continued to hump your clothed pussy.

archons, you made him feel so so good, his voice was hushed and gritty, his hands finding both sides of your hips to keep you down on the bed, dark locks falling into his face.

you break the heated kiss to take a much needed breather, sinking your gaze to watch your wet panties outlining your squishy folds, his controlled pace and rubs only setting a new feeling in you.

no longer was the room silent, it echoed with various sounds and heavy breathing coming from both of you, xiao would most of the times prevent himself from moaning, instead humming affectionate desire towards you.

but his cock, his heavy cock was ruthless and maddening, it didn‘t matter how often you had done it before, it‘ll always leave a significant impression on your body afterwards.

"xiao— xiao!" your little whines seemed like a request, an unvoiced one, "please, i can‘t take it anymore." you emphazised your point when you lightly wiggled your hips, your clothed folds grinding up to meet the raw trail of his cock.

"not yet." he suddenly responded, his breath was fogging on your skin and arose the little hairs on the back of your neck, your sensitive pussy sobbing when xiao carefully kneaded your folds with his length, "this feels pleasant."

you didn‘t get a chance to protest nor beg him not to continue, you finally wanted him to fuck you properly, to impale you with his heavy cock instead of carrying on with his teasing— with the teasing in question not even being perceived as one by him.

the poor nerves on your lower region, tingling with sweet sensations, it was tedious and your thighs were on fire from the additional amounts of times you jerked your hips up to get into a good spot for xiao to massage you with his length.

"almost." he‘s assuring you now, in his familiar timbre muffled with a shaking exhale, placing his middle and ring finger on your burning clit to draw vicious circles on the splotch, "a-almost there."

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #heizou x reader #heizou smut #pantalone x reader #pantalone smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #xiao smut #xiao x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fan fiction

[murdrdocs]

implied skinny dipping; slightly suggestive content W/ LUKE CASTELLAN

thinking about luke, dragging you down to the lake for your usual stargazing, and then he 'subtly' suggests you go skinny dipping.

he speaks through a yawn, as if his words are the most casual as ever. as if he's only talking about the weather. "it was hot today, right? the water looks nice. should we go in?"

“is this your way of trying to see me naked?” you hope the suspicion in your tone hides your nerves.

luke laughs a bit in his reply. “i’m not trying to see you naked. swear.” he holds his hands up to either side of him, palms facing you. "scouts honor." he displays only three fingers on his right hand.

you avoid mentioning how he was never a boy scout as you squint at him, a small smile on your lips. one that exists up until luke uses his hands to lift his shirt over his head.

you allow yourself to stare when the orange is covering his face. but as soon as you see those plush lips and the bottom of his scar, you pretend you’ve been watching the stars the entire time.

luke scoffs and you assume his shirt is completely off of him by now. you keep your eyes directed up.“oh, come on. you can look at me, you know? i’m not showing any of the scary parts.”

his dick. the scary parts are his dick and that's all you can think about. you tell him as such.

“it’s all scary parts, idiot.”

he chuckles and then you hear the sound of his belt clinking. your body starts to warm and the idea of sinking into the cool water appeals more and more to you.

luke calls your name, soft and firm.

you hum.

“look at me.”

it takes you a second to do as told, but when you do, you’re glad to see that luke still has his pants pulled up. his hands are on either side of his undone belt, but the clasp of his jeans is still done.

“if you don’t want to, i won’t make you.”

he’s serious now, and him caring about you has always made you feel a certain way.

“i know.”

he lifts his eyebrows, waiting for a reply.

you give it to him by lifting your shirt off of your body.

luke whoops, a little too loud and you fear a wood nymph—or worse—a camper will find you.

you shush him between giggles. as you shimmy out of your pants. luke mirrors you, and when you stand up and begin to perceive luke's half-nude body, your skin burns. when you realize luke is doing the same for you, eyeing your body, your tummy stirs.

you've seen luke half-naked, of course you have, you two are best friends. but then he was wearing swim trunks and not the tightly fitting black boxer briefs that he's wearing now.

you've always known that luke was fit, you've seen him putting in the work to get to this point. but the low lighting accentuates his abdominal muscles. the situation makes him appear more appealing than a best friend. you being naked makes you want him more than a best friend should.

you don't realize just how hard you're staring until luke grins. "do you wanna get in the water or would you prefer staring at me?"

your eyes immediately snap to luke's face but he's already laughing at you. definitely not with.

"no, no, don't stop on my accord. keep looking if you want." he throws his arms out, holding them there as he spins in a circle.

"stop being an asshole." you try to be nonchalant, but you definitely did look at his ass when he turned around. just as fit as the rest of his body but you definitely don't care about that. nor did you really notice. (lying to yourself will only work for so long)

"hey, i'm not judging." he's turned back around to face you again and it's only then that you realize luke is perceiving you just as hard as you're perceiving him.

"perv," you throw the insult at him.

"guilty," he throws the response back.

eventually, you're both going to have to stop denying this thing between you both.

#this is more dialogue work than anything else #lukesworld! #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

[ddarker-dreams]

mini love report — blade

relationship health diagnosis — 65%*

symptom one — fiercely protective

someone could accidentally bump into you and he'd be willing to kill them. they'd better hope it was on accident, or they'll receive a visit later that night, regardless of your de-escalation. ever since his flesh merged with an abomination, he's held nothing sacred. orders are wordlessly received and executed. so when you stumbled along, knocking him off his equilibrium in the process, he had to latch onto something. you ended up being that 'something.'

he isn't confident in his abilities as a romantic partner. he considers himself unsightly, a blight upon the universe itself. then there's you... doing whatever it is you do... like complimenting a house plant that's been growing well recently. how did he ever catch your attention? it's baffling. nonetheless, this self-perceived gap in value has him eager to prove his worth the one way he can — bloodshed.

kafka's taken to calling him your guard dog, much to his chagrin (he doesn't deny the claim). despite how it reduces him to little more than a weapon, he prides himself on his ability to keep you safe. he won't ever come outright and admit it, though; he knows it'd sadden you.

symptom two — OMS (old man syndrome)

two pop references in a single sentence is enough to make your elderly bf stare at you as if you've spoken another language. go easy on him, he isn't hip with the times. it isn't that he's ignorant to technology, he navigates it just fine. the social media aspect and the trends that come with it are another story. he's never cared for it. should silver wolf broach the topic in his vicinity, he tunes her out.

you, however, have been given the rare privilege of never being ignored. not even if you're explaining why you enjoy a game where you've indebted to a raccoon. you might think he's uninterested, given his poker face, but don't be fooled. he's quietly absorbing your every word. one night, you'll find a plush raccoon sitting on your bed. you have to give him points for effort.

symptom three — acquiescent

blade will do just about anything you ask. he defaults to your preferences on everything from activities together to your meals. for the longest time, you mistook this for apathy on his part. why doesn't he take the initiative to plan your dates? are you boring him? what if he's going along but not enjoying himself? these doubts are a permanent fixture on your mind. voicing these concerns will be one of the few times you've ever caught him off guard. he thought he was amassing Boyfriend Points (he didn't word it this way, but the interpretation is accurate enough). the news that his boyfriend point currency is in the negative comes as a surprise (once again, not his wording).

you won't receive an in-depth monologue detailing his feelings. perhaps that's for the best, since if that was the reaction you received, you'd think he was replaced by a doppelganger. instead, he tells you that he prioritizes your happiness above all else. you look back on it as a sweet moment. the remarkably candid confession stuns you into silence. it seems so obvious in retrospect. in your defense, your intergalactically wanted boyfriend is notoriously difficult to read.

primary area of concern

some moral gymnastics are required. there's no way you haven't seen the wanted posters — he won't sugarcoat the truth either. he's a stellaron hunter responsible for innumerable crimes. the same coarse hands that hold your face when he leans down to kiss you have ended lives. your views on the value of life are bound to diverge. it wouldn't be a passionate debate either, you're not changing his mind on the subject. the only life he values is yours and that's that.

additionally, there's the issue of encroaching madness. minor detail. you're an odd ingredient in the mara mix. there are occasions when you pacify it... but there are also instances where you ignite it. in the event of the latter, he absolutely refuses to be around you. fear is an emotion long lost to him, yet its faint echoes reverberate throughout at the thought of hurting you. you'll get updates from an unknown number (thanks kafka). nonetheless, that doesn't change the fact that your boyfriend will be radio silent for periods lasting from weeks to months.

prognosis

it's complicated. blade treats you like you're a doll made of porcelain, handling you with the utmost care. that doesn't the carnage he's left (and will continue to leave) in his wake. you bring out a tender side in him that withers the instant he leaves your side. his involvement in your life would be far from traditional, he isn't the type you bring him to meet your parents. still, whatever part you want from him, he'll give. whether it be his heart in a literal or a metaphorical sense.

he's loyal to a fault and would have a difficult time should you ever call the relationship quits. you'd have this faint feeling of eyes following you when you're out and about. additionally, when you get back in the dating scene, you'll find yourself frequently stood up. it'd be wise to handle his affection with care.

*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-100)

#mini love reports #blade x reader #hsr x reader #blade brainrot #valentines 2024 event

[franzivonkarma]

I desperately need people to understand that Franziska's whipping thing really isn't solely a silly character gimmick. Of course it is to a degree, just like Godot and coffee and Klavier and air guitar in court, but so often I see people dismiss Franziska's whipping trait as an annoying feature that adds nothing to her character and I cannot stand it. This is a bit of a rant and I touch on gender inequality and the way I see a lot of men treat her as a character a decent amount within this because I feel like the fact that she is a woman is actually very important to this element of her character, and her treatment is also a lot of the reason why I feel compelled to talk about this in the first place.

Firstly what you need to understand is that not only is Franziska a woman, she is also laughably young when she becomes a prosecutor. She's a 13 year old girl trying to hold the attention of a courtroom of mostly grown men and be taken seriously. It's no secret that misogyny does exist in the Ace Attorney universe of course (see: Godot), but aside from this, maybe it's just because I've been playing Ace Attorney Investigations recently, but she is just very small all around. It's a running gag in Turnabout Reminiscence that she is short, she's small, she can't see things Edgeworth can - although granted Edgeworth is definitely fairly tall, most estimates I've seen linger around 5'8-5'10 (around 170-180cm). And of course, she is only 13 here, she's not done growing, but it's at this age that she actually did begin to prosecute. Naturally, she'd often be underestimated, and we can see a strong desire to prove herself during Turnabout Reminiscence, even just to her father; I can only imagine that this would extend further into her trials as a young girl. Secondly, she's the daughter of Manfred von Karma, whom she idolises to a godlike status and who teaches her everything she knows about prosecuting, and also a lot about life in general - he's her father. There's a lot I could say about their dynamic, but I feel that much of it doesn't need to be said in this specific post if you're already here dedicated to Franziska enough to bother reading this post.

Manfred's courtroom (and often, regular) behaviour revolves a lot around him taking complete control of the entire courtroom, with him even speaking over the judge, overruling objections he does not like and sustaining his own, and instructing witnesses himself. He also often snaps his fingers to direct attention to himself and his point. Franziska learns this, but how does a literal 13 year old girl follow her father in this regard? Well, by force. Whipping someone is a very clear way to get their attention. Not only the person it hits but the people around - whips cracking are loud, they take up a lot of visual space, and they also obviously cause harm to the person they hit. These are all things you can't really ignore - it forces you to look at her and pay attention to her and gives her control of the room exactly like Manfred. I've also been thinking a lot about the end of Justice For All in relation to this. She's lost to Phoenix multiple times and she couldn't beat him even once just to prove that she was better than Edgeworth as she so desperately wanted to. This brings me to another point about her use of her whip. While I think control is a huge aspect and is my main focus here, I think it falls more under the umbrella of Franziska's own perceived shortcomings. We also know that she doesn't believe she lives up to her father's genius, and that she consistently feels like she's walking in Edgeworth's shadow, she says it herself:

I think at least some part of the reason her whip is so important is because she believes she could very well be less than equal to others in the room in terms of certain traits. She sees her father as a genius, knows she isn't equal to him, and internalises this (whether she is actually less intelligent or not I personally don't know what I believe, I haven't played Justice For All in over a year and a half and I would have to replay it to decide my thoughts).

In having to be perfect, there are many expectations she cannot live up to, and this leads to many ways in which she falls short of what she believes she should be. By using her whip, again, she can account for her perceived shortcomings in other areas - control, her intelligence, her ability as a prosecutor. I think this last scene of JFA actually introduces us to the idea that Franziska is somewhat self-doubting in some ways and compares herself a lot with others, not just Manfred, but also Edgeworth, which we see more of in Ace Attorney Investigations during Turnabout Reminiscence, where we see her at 13 attempting to prove that she can "out-logic" Edgeworth for the entire case, and essentially, that she is "more perfect" than he is.

But to come back to her whip, control, and the end of Justice For All.

She is left with little of who she was before and doesn't know how to move on - everything she was taught to be from the moment she was born, she no longer is. She is 18 here, prosecuting for 5 years already and desperate to be prosecuting for even longer. As far as her life was set out, this was basically it for her - become a perfect prosecutor and prosecute perfectly just like Manfred - the ideal prosecutor in her eyes.

A Von Karma is perfect, but she is not - she lost, just like Edgeworth, whom she shamed for the same thing. She gives up her whip here, and I feel that it's truly symbolic of how she feels like she's completely lost control of herself, her life, her relationship with her father and most obviously her occupation as a prosecutor. How could she continue being a prosecutor when she no longer lives up to the idea of it that she's had her entire life? What use is her whip if she will not need to hold the court's attention any longer?

I'm sure a million other people have thrown their coin in the pot on this exact topic, and I'm sure many have said the same thing as me and many have said something different, but I needed to write my thoughts out about it because I couldn't stop thinking about her. This is one big reason why I feel like I see a lot of men who don't understand Franziska and see her as very annoying, gimmicky, and my least favourite - a "female Edgeworth." She is a woman who steals attention and space forcibly; both from characters in-game, and also from the player with her animations that take up time in trials and a lot of the visual space. Of course this makes her unpopular with a lot of men. I'm not saying that if you dislike her or the whip it comes from a place of misogyny, I am saying that I think her whipping trait is reduced to a stupid, annoying gimmick more than, say, Godot and his coffee, because a lot of people don't really care to see that there is intention behind it that reveals a lot about her character, just like how Godot's coffee problem is relevant to his backstory.

#if you read all of this thanks for being insane about franziska just like me #long post #franziska von karma #ace attorney #ace attorney justice for all #justice for all #ace attorney spoilers #aa2 spoilers #justice for all spoilers #val thinks #ace attorney investigations spoilers #aai spoilers #ace attorney investigations #aa2 #franziska ace attorney #ace attorney franziska

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Chan are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (6k words)

Author's note: Happy Valentine's day, my spicy lovers ❤️

Chan has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on your knee. Somehow whenever he's with you, he needs his hand constantly touching you.

"Do you think they like me?" You ask, nervously glance his way.

"Who?" Chan doesn't mean to not listen to your cute rambling, but he has his focus on driving.

"Who else?" You ask back instead of answering.

Chan has to think for a while whether you're still talking about his parents whom you just met and had dinner with earlier or his friends you're going to meet soon.

"My parents?" He asks.

You subtly roll your eyes, "duh?!"

He chuckles at your response and grabs the hand resting on your lap, he can feel that it's cold and a little damp.

"Why are still nervous?" He confusingly asks because the dinner has already ended almost an hour ago.

"I wouldn't be this nervous if your parents didn't watch us having sex on TV," you lowly sigh at the end of your sentence.

He bursts out laughing hearing that, you worried so much about these little things that he thinks it's cute.

"Does it matter that they like you?" He curiously asks.

"Of course!" You shorty answer like it's not obvious enough.

"They're your parents. I want to be deemed good, I want to be liked by them, your parents," you explain, shaking the hand in yours.

It doesn't matter that much to him. Regardless his parents like you or not, that wouldn't change the fact that he loves you. He also thinks you couldn't be cuter than this, worrying about whether his parents like you or not.

Once Chan parked the car, you put the visor down and your purse on your lap, he guesses you're about to fix your makeup before getting out of the car.

Wanting to tease you, he turns your head to the side and kisses you once you have applied a fresh coat of lipstick to purposely mess it up.

"Baby, you—" your complaint ends with a sigh instead, "you ruined it."

With his hand on your jaw, he holds your face still and leans in closer, "May as well...?"

Your hand stops him from coming closer, "Your friends are waiting," you remind him.

"Uhm... I don't think they would mind waiting a few more minutes," he says.

"Babe, we shouldn't—"

But he cuts you off with a kiss, a kiss that sends the windows of the car foggy with how much heat you're both producing inside.

You both giggle as you run to the bar where you'll meet his friends and once you step inside, you can see the red tint around Chan's lips and even on his nose from your lipstick.

"It's all over you, "You mutter as you reach to wipe it with your fingers as Chan cranes his neck to look for his friends inside the crowded bar.

"There they are," he takes your hand and leads the way to take you to the corner of the room where his friends are.

It's been great being where he grew up and meeting the friends who grow with him, but it always gets you nervous when he introduces you to new people.

You hate being perceived and with how you acted in the show, you're afraid that they get the wrong ideas about you.

Chan greets his friends with a bright smile and a quick hug, then he proceeds to introduce you after.

"You know who this is," he gives a short introduction of you with his hand resting on the small of your back.

"I'm James," the tall guy says with wavy brown hair, offering his hand at you.

"Hi, nice to meet you," you say as you shake his hand and politely smile.

"This is Leah, my girlfriend," James introduces the girl standing next to him, a beautiful girl with dark long hair and freckles dusted her both cheeks.

You know Chan wouldn't make you feel left out but you feel relieved that you're not going to be the only girl hanging out with these boys tonight.

"Very nice to meet you," you say, giving her a quick cheek-to-cheek hug.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person," James says.

"Yeah, Chris can't stop talking about you. He's been yapping," Leah says, poking fun at Chan.

You turn to the side to look at Chan and raise an eyebrow at him, "Oh, really?"

"It's true," Chan immediately admits with a coy shrug and a shy smile.

Then he holds his hand up and glares at Leah, "Except for the yapping part," he quickly adds.

Everyone bursts into laughter and unlike the dinner you had with his parents earlier, you feel like you don't need to try hard to impress them.

"Let's get you guys a drink," James says.

While the boys are playing a game of pool, you and Leah are chatting over drinks., exchanging a few things about Chan like how James and Leah are his friends from high school which is also when they began dating.

"So you guys have been together like... forever?!" You say in awe, admiring their years of dating when your and Chan's relationship has been going on for nearly a year.

"Well, time flies by," she casually says like a decade-long relationship means nothing.

She sips her drink and snacks on a tray of fries in front of her, "how do you like Australia so far? Where have you been exploring?"

You quickly swallow your drink to answer her question, "Oh, I love it here, anything but the heat honestly," you answer along with a low laugh.

"I know, the heat is crazy these days," she says, finishing her drink in one long sip.

She glances at your glass and sees that you have finished your drink too, "How about a round of wet pussy?" She asks out of nowhere.

Not sure you heard her right, but your head is looking around to see if anyone heard it too and can confirm it for you.

"Excuse me?" You ask with a puzzled look on your face.

Leah bursts out laughing, amused by your utter bewilderment.

"Not that, oh, you thought—" she pauses to take a breath from all the laughter.

"It's just the name of a drink. It's sweet, it's delicious, you're going to like it," she assures you.

Leah doesn't wait for your answer but leaves the table to order it and returns with two shot glasses filled with pink-colored liquid. She hands one to you and holds one for herself.

"What's in this?" You curiously ask.

"Vodka, peach snapps, a dash of cranberry juice, lime, and every deliciousness there is," she playfully answers.

Chan comes to the table to have a sip of his drink and notices the drink in your hand, "Having wet pussy?"

"Uh-huh," you answer.

He winces after sipping his drink, "Be careful with that!" He says.

"Lighten up, Chris!" Leah says.

She makes you ignore his warning and initiate a toast with you, clinking the shot glass together then takes the shots at once.

The wet pussy is fruity and sweet, apart from the burn of alcohol down your throat, you would think that it's a glass of juice.

"Oh!" You gasp in amazement.

Leah smiles in satisfaction, knowing that you approve her recommendation, "Good, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "Can we have another round?"

"Sure, yeah," Leah says, doesn't mind ordering it for both of you.

The next thing you know, your tables are filled with empty shot glasses and you can feel yourself loosening up with every sip you take.

You're laughing at something when Chan presses his knuckle on your cheek, probably noticing how flushed they are.

"You might want to slow down on the drinking," he mutters to you.

You hold his chin so you can place a peck on his lips, "Oh, you mean these wet pussy?"

Chan laughs at that and puts his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the fact that James and Leah are making out across the table.

"You should have one of these wet pussy," you tell him, saying the name of the drink with a sly smile.

He leans into your side and whispers, "I'll have one, later, at home."

You put your hand under his chin and hold his face, wanting to catch up to what James and Leah are doing. Maybe it's the alcohol or Chan is simply a damn good kisser that you get that flutter and warmth all over you.

-

Chan can't tell how drunk you are but he has to hold you close to his side to keep you steady.

You both stand outside the bar to send his friends off on their way home, you manage to wave your hands as they leave in their car.

"Can you walk, love?" He asks.

You bob your head and begin walking toward the car in slow, careful steps.

Chan hurriedly holds your hand, afraid that you'd stumble in this state that he believes is the most drunk of you he's ever seen.

He reaches for the door of the car to open it for you when you pin him against the car, putting all of your weight against him as you put your hands around his neck.

Chan can't say no when you kiss him so passionately that he has a hard time returning it to you. He puts your arms around you to keep you steady and kisses you back just as hard and as deep.

It's when your hand wanders to the waistband of his jeans, that he breaks the kiss. He cups your cheeks in his hands and gently kisses your nose.

"Let's get home first, mmh?" He says

"Mmh, okay," you croak, letting him help you get into the passenger's side.

When he finally gets into the car, you fall asleep holding the safety belt on your lap. He quietly laughs, then buckles the belt for you.

Getting you inside the car is one thing, getting you out is another thing. He has to carry you in both arms when you suddenly wake up and insist on walking on your own.

"I'm not a baby," you slurred your words, trudging your way into the elevator.

Inside the elevator, you eventually cling to him again and instead of getting upset, he thinks you're adorable when you're drunk.

You kick your shoes off right after you enter his apartment and walk further inside while trying to take your dress off by yanking at it.

"Why is it so hot?" You grumble, still yanking at the front of your dress and heading straight to the bedroom.

Chan goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and finds you still trying to remove your dress while hurling yourself around the room.

"Let me take it off for you, yeah?" He offers to help.

You stand with your back facing him so he can unzip the dress and pull it off of you. You immediately collapse onto the bed, lying down on your stomach.

"Have a sip of water first, okay?" He suggests, forcing you to drink some water by bringing it close to your mouth.

"Want to sleep..." you grumble again with your nose scrunched.

"Just a sip, baby, please?" He sweetly begs.

You lift your head just enough to sip the water from the glass and hurriedly rest your head on the pillow again.

"Good girl," Chan mutters with a tender caress on your head.

He keeps the glass of water on the bedside table and he heads out of the bedroom, putting the things he has prepared for the night back in their place.

He puts away the cake, and flowers, then dumps the rose petals scattered on the kitchen island into the trash bin. He washes up real quick and finally joins you on the bed, carrying the surprise he's been keeping close to his chest all night.

Catching you keep tossing and turning on the bed, he scoops you his arm and holds you close, he knows how much you like being cuddled.

"Cold," you murmur with eyes closed.

Chan hurriedly pulls the duvet up to your chest and affectionately kisses your bare shoulder, "Is it warm enough?"

"Mmh," you hum in answer.

He's aware that you're barely awake and probably wouldn't remember having this conversation with him the next morning, but he's been meaning to ask you something all evening.

"Baby?"

"Mmh?" Your hum is muffled with your head buried in his chest.

"Do you love me?"

"Mmh."

He looks down to see if you're awake but your eyes are tightly shut, "I love you," he mutters.

"Love you," you mutter back with a sleepy tone.

He chuckles at how you keep replying to him even though you're drunk and half asleep, he can't help but place a kiss on the top of your head.

"What do you think if we get married?" He playfully asks.

"Mmh."

"Do you want to get married to me?"

"Mmh."

"Is it a 'mmh yes' or 'mmh no'?"

"Mmh."

Chan laughs again and rewards you with another kiss on your forehead for being so cute. Even though tonight doesn't turn out the way he wanted, he still appreciates it as it is, another precious day shared with you.

"Will you marry me, baby?" He asks, while

"Mmh," you reply with another hum but this time along with a subtle nod.

He then takes the box he's been keeping in his jacket pocket all night and takes out the ring. Slowly, he puts the ring into your ring finger and then places a kiss on it.

"You can't take back your answer, you hear me?" He warns you.

"Mmh."

Chan has said it before but he didn't expect to meet you in a dating show and finds the one he's looking for in you and everything seems to fall into place ever since, it feels as if he's fated to be with you which assures him that he made the right decision to propose you.

But it seems like Chan has to try again tomorrow.

-

The morning sun blinds you when you open your eyes and you immediately close them again.

Your hand flies to your head as it's pounding from all the drinking last night and the alcohol evaporates through the pores of your skin.

"Oh, God!" You mumble with your hand rubbing on your temple.

The more you shift on the bed, the more you feel sick and you unintentionally wake up the man lying next to you. He scoots closer to you and looks at you through his half-shut eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a deep voice.

"Not okay at all," you groan, putting away the hair stuck to your sweaty face.

He props his elbow against the mattress, "Headache, mmh?"

You nod as you massage the side of your head as much as you can to lessen the pain.

"I'll get you something for the headache, okay?" He says with his voice heavy with sleep.

"Yes, please?" You whine.

"Wait a minute, yeah," he says, dragging himself out of the bed half-naked.

He shortly returns with a tube of ibuprofen in his hand and sits on the edge of the bed. Shaking the tube, he manages to take out a pill and hands it to you.

You shove it right into your mouth and take the glass of water from Chan's hand to wash it down. It's a suggestive thought but you already feel so much better.

"You're right..." you mumble.

You slump down and lay back down, "Those wet pussy are dangerous."

Chan chuckles as he rubs his hand up and down your arm then kisses your shoulder, "Now, you learned your lesson," he says.

"How drunk I was last night?" You curiously ask even though you know you wouldn't like the answer.

He sucks air through his gritted teeth and thinks for a moment, "You kept saying it was hot and you started taking your clothes off."

You cringe imagining in your head how you behaved last night while you were drunk out of your mind.

"How embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face with your hands.

"Nah. You were so cute," he adds with a sly grin that showcases his dimples.

"You enjoyed it, huh?" You elbow his side to get back to him.

He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and begins to pepper your neck and face with little kisses. When his lips are about to capture yours, you look the other way.

"I have a really stinky breath right now," you explain, covering your mouth as you speak.

"Since when do I care?" He takes your hand away and leans in again.

You usually wouldn't mind but for this morning with your breath reek from last night's drinking, you quickly dodge away for his sake.

"I seriously need to brush my teeth," you tell him.

And remembering that you didn't clean your face last night, you need to wash up immediately.

"Okay," Chan says with a pout.

To make up for it, you give him a quick peck on the lips and a longer peck on his cheek.

"I'll be back in a minute," you tell him as you get up from the bed.

It's horrifying to see your makeup melted and smudged, you're surprised that Chan is not disgusted already. You thoroughly brush your teeth and finish it with a cup of mouthwash.

You wipe your face with a damp towel to remove the excess makeup and scoop cold water to splash your face with. All the time you're standing in front of the sink and looking into the mirror, you've been seeing something different about you but can't tell what it is.

It's when you put your hand under the running water to scoop some more water you finally notice it, a ring on your finger.

Thinking that you're still slightly drunk or hallucinating, you bring your hand close to your eyes to inspect the ring, it has a beautiful teardrop-shaped diamond on it and it's on your ring finger so does this mean...

"Baby?"

You hear Chan's faint reply to your call from the bedroom, "Yeah?"

You can't seem to fathom your thoughts into words and end up calling him again, "Baby?"

"Yes?" He answers again.

With your eyes stuck looking at the ring, you walk back to the bedroom without drying your face first. You hold your hand up and show it to him.

"Did you see this?" You ask with a bewildered look on your face.

Chan is slyly smiling as he watches you get on the bed and sit in front of him, "Yes."

Not close enough to you, you decide to sit on his lap facing him, "Is it like... uh..."

Probably from the alcohol you consumed last night, your brain can't seem to compute words and your heart can't stay still inside your chest.

You inhale air to calm yourself, "Is it a gift or.... uh, something else? Something I don't know happened last night?"

Chan is grinning ear to ear, he seems excited to tell which one it is to you. He rests his hands on each side of your waist then says, "What do you think?"

"Whichever it is, I'm going to give you head for it," you playfully answer.

He chuckles with his tongue slightly sticking out from the corner of his mouth, "It is what you think it is," he cryptically says.

"I think you just can't wait to get a head from me," you joke again.

He laughs again and you gently hit his chest from beating around the bust, "Just tell me what it is," you whine.

He takes your hand and holds it, rubbing the diamond on the ring with his thumb, "Since I met you, I get this feeling that I couldn't love anyone else this much except for you like I have this much love inside me and it's only there for you."

You tip your head to the side as you intently listen to him talking his heart out.

"I'm stuck with you... in the best way," he remarks with a light chuckle, "and I think we may as well..."

It's endearing to see how he's slightly nervous and excited at the same time. You lean in close and tease him, "May as well what?"

He chuckles again and licks his lips, "We may as well get married. What do you think?"

You place your hand on the nape of his neck, "Of getting married? To you?"

"Yeah," he answers with a nervous sigh slips out of his mouth.

You brush the soft curls on the back of his head as you stare into his brown eyes and try to fathom your feelings into words, "Oh, baby... All I ever wanted is having all your love just for me," you playfully say.

You hold the side of his face and see that his eyes are pooling with fondness as they gaze into you, you get that fluttering feeling inside you.

Oh, you love him so much and you also think you couldn't love someone as much as you love him.

"I think I'll never get enough of it, I need it for the rest of my life," you continue.

Chan takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he's about to ask you, "Will you marry me, my love?"

There's only one right answer to that, one that you know for sure you'll never regret.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes... " You peck his lips again and again for every yes you give him.

The last peck lasts the longest that you run out of breath and gasp for air when you let go, "A thousand times, yes."

Chan brings your head close to him so he can kiss you, kisses you so hard yet so gentle that you can feel the emotions he puts into it.

It's one of those moments where you feel like you and him are the only ones existing in this world. It's just you and him, encased in this moment forever.

When the kiss breaks, you melt into his hug and feel your hearts beating so close to each other as you hold him close.

"I love you, baby," he mutters with a rub on your back and a haste kiss on your neck.

You lift your head from the crook of his neck and look at him as you say those three words back to him, "And you know I love you too," you steadfastly say.

Chan just can't have enough of it the first time so he crashes his lips onto you again and his arms are tightly wrapped around you as if he tries to crush your body.

The kiss takes things further as you start grinding on him and when your lips aren't on his, you place slobbering kisses on his neck knowing how much he likes them.

While you're busy kissing him all over, Chan reaches for your back to unclasp your bra and takes it off of you. He grabs you by the waist and dives right into the valley of your breasts.

You look down to watch as he takes your breasts into his mouth in turns, switching between sucking and fondling them.

Your lips eventually land on his again, kissing him hard before going down to keep your promise. You pull his hardening member out of its confine and repeatedly stroke it.

Chan lifts your chin to place a kiss on your lips before you lower your mouth on him, taking his cock into your mouth and sucking on it.

You compensate the rest of his length you can take with your hand. You sync your hand and your mouth to give him the utmost pleasure.

He gathers all of your hair in his hand, making a makeshift ponytail, and holds it away from your face so he can see how you take his cock in your mouth.

"Mmh... just like that, baby," he breathlessly mutters to you.

"Keep going, yeah," he mutters again, throwing his head to the back in pleasure.

He keeps muttering sweet praises to you as you pleasing him with your mouth and once in a while, staring at him with your mouth full of him.

"You know how to please me, mmh?"

"You're so good at it, baby."

You know you're doing the right thing when he starts tugging at your hair harder and his breath becomes erratic. Continuing with your hand, you keep the pace knowing that he's close to his release.

"Cum for me, baby," you seductively say.

You maintain eye contact with him with your hand relentlessly pumping his cock, leading him to his high until the white of his cum spurts out of the tip, making streaks on your chest and chin.

His cum feels hot and sticky on your skin, he uses his boxer to wipe it clean for you, not wasting time crashing his lips against yours after that.

"Why are you so good at making me feel good, mmh?" He takes you down the bed and pins you under.

He has his lips constantly pressing on you, kissing you so hard that you're struggling to either kiss him back or take a breath in between.

He breaks the kiss only to kiss you elsewhere, down the column of your neck, and eventually presses his mouth close to your ear.

"I'd like to have my wet pussy now, please," he sweetly whispers, making you tingle inside.

As if he needed your permission, he pulls your underwear down and out of your legs, not wait another moment to dive into your wet cunt.

There's no doubt that he knows his way around you, making you arch your back to seek more of that delicious lick of his tongue between your folds and sends his nose pressed on your clit, but there's one thing you want more than his skillful mouth.

Failing to stop him a couple of times, you tug at his hair a little too hard to finally get his attention. Chan lifts his head, looking at you with his mouth and chin glistening with your essence.

"Want you inside me, baby," you sweetly ask.

He comes at you, hovering inside you to press his wet mouth on you, "Want me inside you, mmh?"

You let him kiss you again before telling him what you really want, "Want you to make love to your fiancé," you say with a smile.

"Fiancé, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

It seems to only hit him that you are his fiance, "Fuck yeah you are my fiance."

You wonder how he gets this hard even though he has just cum a few moments ago, you can feel how stiff he is when he enters you. You moan at how good it feels to finally have him inside you.

"You're so hard, baby," you whine as you sloppily kiss his mouth.

Your head falls onto the pillow, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled by him, "So hard, mmh... so good," you

Chan puts your legs up and against him, holding them close as he starts thrusting into you. You grip the sheet underneath you as each thrust launches you to the back of the bed.

He slows down the pace and puts your legs around his waist, lowering himself onto you so he suffocates you with more kisses as his hips pulsate into you.

The gaze he gives you is affectionate and soft, in contrast to his slow yet deep thrusts. He is indeed making love to you, putting all of him into it, and you feel as if you became one, body and soul.

-

Chan sets everything on the dining table, the cake and the bouquet of flowers which he has now put in a pitcher filled with water to keep it from withering.

You finally out of the bedroom after hours of showering, dressing up, and doing your make-up to get ready for the video call for the show reunion.

"Oh, you prepared this?" You gasp, seeing the little surprise on the dining table.

"If you weren't so drunk last night, you would have seen it," he sneers with eyes squinted.

You chuckle at that and come up to him, putting your arm around his waist, "I'm sorry I ruined your surprise," you sincerely apologize along with a sweet peck on his lips.

"I'll forgive you if you let me take pictures of you and that ring on your finger to let the world know that you're taken," he requests with a sly smile dancing on his face.

You chuckle again and enthusiastically agree to this request, "With pleasure!"

Chan takes countless of photos of you with the surprise he prepared for you and countless more of you together, showing off the dainty ring on your finger.

"Should we share it with the group?" He asks.

There's a group chat of everyone from the retreat and you're still in contact with them through it. It's a good idea but you want to hold that plan for a bit since there's someone more deserving to know the news first.

"Maybe later after the video call?"

Chan considers it for a moment and then nods, "Yeah, I think so too."

You reach for the bottle of champagne and hold it out to him, "What about having a toast?"

"Only if you promise not to get drunk," he jokingly says.

"Oh, my God! Let it go already," you dramatically sigh while Chan hugs you from the back and kisses your neck.

You clink your glasses of wine together, having a toast to your engagement and having a little celebration, eating the cake right away with forks.

"Is it the time already?" You ask, shoving another spoonful of cake into your mouth.

Chan checks the time on his laptop screen and confirms with a nod, "Yep. It's time!"

-

HOST: Next up on my hot seat is the couple whose relationship was as sexually charged as it was fiscally reckless. Before we talk to them, let's take a look at some of their best bits.

[Video plays]

HOST: Hi, lovebirds!

YOU & CHAN: Hi, hi! [Waves hands]

YOU: Lovely to see you!

HOST: I see that you guys are together. Where is your location?

YOU: Take a guess! [Smiles]

CHAN: Yeah, take a guess.

HOST: Er... maybe I'm projecting it too much but it would be good news to know you guys are... in... Australia?

YOU & CHAN: [Applause]

HOST: [Exhales] Oof... What a relief to know that you guys are together at the beginning of the interview but I think we can safely say that almost everyone in the world is now watching your love story unfold.

YOU & CHAN: [Nods]

HOST: So where are you guys now in your relationship? Like... what has happened since the retreat?

YOU: [Turns to Chan] Want me to answer it or...

CHAN: Yeah, you.

YOU: Chris and I, came off the retreat and Chris went with me and stayed with me for a couple of days.

HOST: Didn't you guys plan on going to Australia together after the retreat?

YOU: We did. Then I got a call for work so I had to postpone it.

HOST: Was it like being away from each other? Because you guys can't seem to keep yourself away from each other in the show [laughs] How are you guys making it work?

CHAN: I obviously wanted to stay longer but I had a few things I need to work on too. The long-distance thing didn't put that much strain... it wasn't easy but we managed.

YOU: Right. We managed. We did alright, I guess [laughs] CHAN: We video call each other a lot.

YOU: And always sending nudes to each other.

HOST: [Eyes widen] Oh, wow!

YOU & CHAN: [Laughs]

HOST: And now you're back together, in Australia!

YOU: [Nods] Yes.

HOST: What did you guys do? Tell us all about it.

YOU: It's been an absolute blast. I had so much fun. I met his family, went sightseeing, tried all of his favorite foods, met his friends—

CHAN: She had too much fun, in fact [chuckles]

HOST: Whatever kind of fun that is I hope you've done it responsibly and safely [squints eyes]

YOU: To be honest, I got drunk last night and I had the worst hangover a few hours ago. Thankfully, this man [points at Chan] took care of me well.

CHAN: She had too much wet pussy.

HOST: Excuse me, wet what?

CHAN: It's an Australian thing, it's the name of a drink here. She got drunk on that.

HOST: Sounds like a fun drink.

YOU: You should try it. It's delicious.

HOST: I want to but I don't know if I'll ever find myself bold enough to say that to the bartender [laughs]

YOU & CHAN: [Laughs]

HOST: So... I do have to bring up a couple of sticky things. Uhm... first is Mac. Do you have any regrets about going on that date with Mac?

YOU: Uh... [glances at Chan] [Clears throat] I regret how flirtatious it got. It was really hard to watch that back because I was like... did I really say that? I was nervous about how Chris would react at that moment.

CHAN: Honestly, I hated to have that part included in our best bits [Shrugs]

HOST: [Cackles]

CHAN: But I was more than proud of her after it once I watched the whole thing.

HOST: We'll quickly move on from that and onto the future. I want to know about the future of you two. Have you got anything you want to share with us about... future plans maybe?

CHAN: Well, we've been looking for a place together and... also... at rings [Giggles]

HOST: [Gasps] Oh, my God! It's so happening! Has the question been popped yet?

CHAN: [Looks at you] We may as well, yeah?

YOU: [shows off ring] He already did!

HOST: Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I don't know how to react, it has never happened before!

YOU: Just so you know he proposed to me this morning, like literally a few hours ago.

HOST: We need the details. Please!

YOU: Well, remember that he said I was drunk, right? [Laughs] he prepared this surprise with a cake and flowers, he initially planned to propose last night but that didn't go as planned so he tried again this morning.

HOST: And you said yes?

YOU: He obviously knew I wanted to marry him [smiles]

HOST: [gleefully laughs] YES! I'm loving this so much.

CHAN: I couldn't imagine being with anyone else [smiles]

YOU: He's just so cute [smiles]

HOST: You are aware that Lana's rules no longer apply. You guys can totally kiss right now.

YOU & CHAN: [Kisses]

HOST: [Coos] I kind of in love with this love story right now. Oh, wait, were we the first to hear about this?

YOU: We want Lana to be the one who knows about this.

CHAN: And obviously to everyone who is rooting for us [smiles]

HOST: Lana, girl, you should hold a wedding for them! The first Too Hot To Handle wedding.

YOU: Lana sponsor us, please? [Laughs]

CHAN: Jokes aside, we thank Lana for bringing us together and—

YOU: That's true.

CHAN: In case you don't know, Lana is doing God's work [chuckles]

HOST: Are you going to celebrate it with more wet pussy?

YOU: [Laughs] Yeah, that's actually a great idea.

HOST: How about you, Chris?

CHAN: I just had it this morning [Holds in laughter]

YOU: [Covers his mouth] [laughs]

HOST:... OH?!

CHAN: I'll probably have it again later at night.

HOST: [Blinks eyes] Oh... I expect nothing less from you guys.

YOU & CHAN: [Laughs]

HOST: Oh, my gosh, you guys! It's been incredible talking to you both. I wish you nothing but the best.

YOU: Aw... thank you. It was a really great reunion [Lightly claps]

CHAN: Thank you, Lana. Thank you, everyone [Waves hand]

YOU: Much love [Blows kisses]

-

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[sweet-as-an-angel]

König w/ a Petite S/O

Warnings: 18+, Implications of smut, brief descriptions of smut, implications of masturbation, no pronouns used for Reader except 'You', fluff, teasing, soft König, mention of being stood up, profanity, etc.

AAAAAHHH

Before you and König even started dating, he often saw you around, and, as one's first thought of him would likely have been 'Tall', his first thought of you had been 'Small'.

More specifically, tiny perfect petite little angel for whom he had a nigh-baseless obsession over.

His hulking frame belied the agony he felt whenever confronted with the possibility of having to talk to anyone.

But you weren't just anyone.

Yet, he was still shit-scared that he'd end up making a fool of himself when he eventually plucked up the courage to speak to you, but his desperation to just hear you, to put a voice to your face, almost outweighed that crushing terror.

Almost.

You ended up initiating a conversation first upon seeing him reading the same book as you.

Your initial introduction seemed to make him jump out of his skin, but as you eased into a conversation, one which König became more and more responsive to, any social fear he'd felt thawed, giving way to an intellectual, eloquent König he often reserved for his thoughts alone; conversations with authors long dead and buried.

It all blossomed up from there.

The closer you become, the more comfortable König was with having physical contact with you, though he has dreamed of it for many nights prior to your meeting.

He was more concerned that you wouldn't be comfortable with him, but you surprised him by initiating first, linking your arm with his as you walked back from a movie theatre one evening.

The gesture was not inherently romantic, nor was it indicative of mere friendship. Somewhere right in the middle - an ephemeral in-between.

After that, König felt more confident with initiating first.

But he didn't want to seem too desperate.

You were back at his apartment (a common occurrence now, your friendship three months strong), watching a horror film, when a particular twist had you jumping, wanting to grip onto something for dear life.

König is an extremely attentive man, and he noticed this, and how you (conveniently) had nothing to hold onto.

Except for...

König took a leap of faith and slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You looked up at him, the fear stiffening your features softening.

When you didn't pull away, König took that small step towards his (and hopefully your) end goal, already having breached the first chasm.

"Don't worry," he said, his accented voice light yet serious, eyes gleaming with promise. "I'll protect you."

From then on, you held hands everywhere you went.

'Platonically', of course (for now, at least).

König marveled at how much smaller your hand was than his.

He has a weak spot for when you wrap your fingers around just one of his fingers, making him feel even bigger than he already is.

His mind often strayed into muddy waters, wondering how big his cock would feel in your tiny hands - in your mouth.

König's not stupid; he knows he's massive compared to the average (and above-average) man.

But to have you see how big he is, to give him a doe-eyed look as you ask him if it'll "even fit", makes him unbelievably hard.

Has jacked off to the idea of that particular scenario multiple times, though he has felt the post-nut clarity and shame afterwards.

And yet, he still thought of you, your tiny body quivering and cum-drenched beneath him, used and spent after a long night with him.

It would seem our Austrian friend has been manifesting this whole time as, as luck would have it, that exact scenario occurred one evening after König had returned from a long mission.

You'd known each other for little over a year at that point, the romantic tension (or what König perceived as romantic tension) palpable between the two of you.

You'd come over to König's after your date (who König prayed would just disappear) stood you up.

Believe it or not, König actually had nothing to do with their disappearance, and for that he felt even worse.

At least then he knew they'd have a reason to not see you. But he was just as much in the dark as you were.

And you cried. Rightfully so.

You'd been looking forward to this date all week, and now you were left with a shattered ego and buckets of embarrassment strapped to your person like weights.

"Am I not attractive enough?" you hiccuped through tears, to which König vehemently shook his head.

You are the most enchanting creature I have ever seen, he wanted to say. But he couldn't. Not now. Not while you were vulnerable.

"Then why didn't he show up?" Your voice was partially muffled when you buried your head into the cushion König had supplied you with.

König's blood boiled beneath his skin, his teeth clenched and his hands balled into fists.

Someone - some bastard - had wasted an opportunity he'd have killed for.

Now he was almost wishing he had. Killed that fucker and taken you out instead.

König shuffled closer, already close enough that he could hear your hushed sobs.

He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

That seemed to make you feel better as you peeked up at König from the cushion.

"Can't believe I nearly missed our movie night for that prick."

"But you're here now, aren't you?" König said, softly, running a hand through your hair. "That's all that matters."

One thing led to another, and within the hour you were lay beside König, bedsheets crumpled and pulled just to your collarbones.

Your chest heaved as you regained your breath, body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, both yours and König's, the area between your legs wet and warm.

König had regained his breath and cautioned a look at you.

You were smiling. Whether it was the dopamine rush, your incredulity as to the evening's turn of events, or the fact that you'd finally done something you'd dreamed of for months.

You turned to König, catching the lulling glint in his eye.

"Well?" he said, smiling lazily. "Feel any better?"

General Headcanons

I've said it for Ghost, and I'm saying it here:

SIZE. KINK.

König thinks your height - or lack thereof - is something to behold in the same way that a kitten's mere existence can bring YouTube to its knees.

He holds you at any given opportunity: around your waist, by your ankle (when you're play-fighting), your hand - anywhere.

Enjoys teasing you, though does so very rarely (he's scared he might actually cause you to leave one day if he's too persistent).

Genuinely cannot get over how small you are. Like, how are you so small? Can't you just...be bigger?

Not that he would love you more if you were bigger, but given his sheer mass, he just cannot wrap his head around the fact that someone as tiny as yourself exists.

Then König remembers that people have said similar things to him - telling him to "Stop growing," (though in jest), and how he was gifted his height as you were gifted your lack thereof.

Will destroy anyone who even looks at you wrong.

And it won't be difficult for him to. Just look at him.

Goes feral insane manwhore mode if you sit on his chest and put your hands on him.

You look even smaller from where he's lay (even though you're on top).

Feels like he ascends every time you ask him to pass you something that's too high up for you to reach.

Does hide things higher up or in places you won't find them because he wants you to keep asking him to get you things.

Wear his shirts when he's around and he will literally die.

Has a thing about ownership when it comes to you. He just wants to have and possess every molecule of you.

And König will tear the skin from anyone or anything that stands in his way.

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Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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