#please stop posting this fuck and putting him on my dash please

[akyrin]

Please stop

#please stop posting this fuck and putting him on my dash please #/lh #mcyt #dreamwastaken

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part ii

✧.* it's the end of the season and you've never been so eager to say goodbye to your team and while your'e celebrating the end of another era, lando shoots his shot, making you question everything.

✧.* reader is older. Slow-burn who? Don't know her. Taglist open! Typos add some personality, ignore them pls 😂

✧.* prev part - next part

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teamy/n

liked by landonorris, y/nusername and 189,783 others

teamy/n getting some laps in with the papayas 🧡

tagged: y/nusername, mclaren

view all 367 comments

landoscar this is the best thing to wake up to 🥰

hannahh this family suits her so much better

charlos16 that's hot 🔥

mclaren welcome back y/n! 🧡

y/nusername 🧡

julieeeexo can't wait to see what you're going to do next season!

landonorris the color suits you 😉

norrizz boy stop flirting, isn't y/n in a relationship?

bott_ass haven't seen them together in a while so they might've broken up!

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y/nusername

liked by albon_pets, landonorris and 215,871 others

y/nusername reunited with the youths 🐾

view all 625 comments

carlandooo look at my siblings being all cute and shit 🥰

milouberger youths? Mans is 56 in dog years.

cecilemoulin time to put him in a retirement home

y/nusername bully a dog? Life must be at a all time low for the two of you..

y/nusername keep my son's name out of your fucking mouth

f1girlies I can't with these three 💀

livelaughlovelando I just know these pets are spoiled rotten 😭

albon_pets play date when?

y/nusername they are grounded 😔

albon_pets for being too cute? 😔

hamilt44n dash just chilling, basking in the sun, unbothered king

landonorris gotta meet them soon

norrizz yeah are you ready to be a dad lando?

landoscar boy is just not hiding it anymore 😂

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if you want to be removed from a taglist, please let me know. Of your name is in red, it means I was unable to tag you!

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummrsx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @idkiwantchocolatee @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @ihrtdan @landossainz

Feel the magic taglist: @lighttssoutlewis @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @fangirl25reader @guilliaabergaminii @roseseraj @moonclaine @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @di-yum

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris au #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 x reader

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 5

TITLE: Eat, sleep, play.

PAIRING: Minho x Jisung x reader

SUMMARY: an established poly relationship between you and Minsung, along with an account of what Jisung likes to call ‘play time’. 

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: pre-established poly relationship, bondage, unprotected sex, blowjobs, swearing, oral sex (f!receiving and m!receiving), a dash of bratty yet sub-Jisung, sub reader, ball gags, cum eating.

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat @queenmea604 🩷🩷🩷

-

“I wanna eat her out,” Jisung mutters, unable to take his eyes off of your bound body. It was almost like he was truly hungry, nearly salivating. 

Minho looks down at you but not with a gaze of pity. He just spent the last five minutes binding your body with rope; your legs are bent at your sides as you lie on your back, and your wrists are tied to your ankles. To top it off, Minho had stuffed your mouth with a ball gag. It wasn’t necessarily for punishment, but mainly because he likes being mean.  

“I did have other plans for the both of you, but I guess we can start that after.”

For a moment Jisung wondered what exactly those plans were. It’s always exciting to not know what’s coming next and with Minho, nine times out of ten, it’s something mind blowing. He can adapt to Jisung’s desires and decides to sit cross legged on the bed behind you. So Minho scoots underneath your head so that you’re nearly in his lap. It gives him a better view of Jisung and what he’s about to do to you.

Jisung lies on the bed tummy first, his mouth ready to be put to use in between your legs. The warmth of his breath is a subtle relief followed by the tender kisses he places on each inner thigh, slowly inching down to your clit. Just when he does, your eyes are already fluttering back.

“Mmm!” 

Minho smirks down at you, “can’t say anything now can you?”

Jisung wraps his hands around your upper thighs to bring your pussy closer to his face. The feel of his wet, hot tongue lapping and sucking sends you into a state of oversensitivity. He’s always been good at giving head, same with Minho, so you always count yourself lucky with two partners who are good at what they do. 

His mouth has you moaning like a whore around the ball gag, even though neither of them can audibly hear you as properly. Your legs are already shivering and shaking from the pleasure that’s beginning to surge throughout your body. To top it off, Minho makes his hands useful by rolling your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers. The nervy reaction forces your head back into Minho’s lap, trying to cry out as much as possible. 

“Baby girl likes that doesn’t she?” Minho asks, pinching and tugging at the sensitive buds to make you scream into the gag. 

Your chest starts heaving quicker and quicker, a sign to Minho that you’re about to cum, and just before you do, he has to yank Jisung by his hair to stop him from achieving that. His head lifts up from your pussy, his mouth glistening unashamely with your juices as his eyes looked dazed and spaced out. 

“That’s enough,” Minho warns. “I said you could eat her out, I never said you were allowed to make her cum.” 

Jisungs happens to take a lot of pride in making you orgasm. He thinks it’s the most fascinating yet cute thing at the same time. He enjoys watching you shake, scream, cry, shiver, moan - all of the above when you cum. It’s something he has that really emulates the characteristics of a ‘giver’ even though he himself is, the majority of the time, a ‘receiver’. 

“Don’t be mean to her like that,” he whines. “Wanted to feel her cum.”

“Not yet,” Minho halts. “For now, you’re going to fuck her.” 

Jisung’s eyes light up once more as he props himself up onto his knees while Minho slides out from behind you and takes a seat on the chair next to the bed so he can watch. Having been achingly hard in his pants since the scene began, Jisung starts to feel waves of relief when he’s able to take his dick out. You watch him eagerly with your last line of patience.

“C’mere baby,” he murmurs, almost like he’s tipsy. 

Jisung’s cock is somewhat thick and has the perfect length and curve that it’s enough to make you cum like you’ve never before each and every single time. He gets excited just thinking about it as he rubs the tip of his cock in between your wet folds. Minho crosses one leg over the other as he watches the pair of you, seeing Jisung unintentionally tease your entrance with his cock; only pushing in less than an inch and slowly retracting out. 

It doesn’t matter how much preparation they both put you through, it’s not nearly enough to get you ready for how filling it feels for when Jisung is fully inside of you. 

He squeezes a small dollop of the lube that was pulled out earlier from the bedside table and runs some of the product on his length and some around your pussy. 

The reintroduction of his touch makes you groan, desperate and longing for more that soon comes when he starts to push inside of you. 

“Yes, fuck oh my god,” Jisung mumbles incoherently. “Can never get over this pussy, feels unreal.” 

Heat always rises to your cheeks whenever one of them praises your body. For whatever reason, it gets you to cum quicker. Minho found that out when they were both fucking you once and wouldn’t stop commenting about how gorgeous you looked taking both of them at the same time. Needless to say the mess you made on them was a sign. 

“Fuck, I don’t think I’m going to last,” Jisung starts fucking you shallowly and slowly, not wanting to put in all of his energy into his thrusts in case he cums too early. 

“Lean some more of your weight down to fill her out,” Minho instructs, turning Jisung’s spaced out face into a look of irritation. 

He was just basking in the sensation of wet heat wrapping around him. Despite the context of the scene, Jisung feels very comfortable. He could stay buried inside of you for as long as you’d let him. In saying that, his submissiveness always bends for Minho’s orders. That, fortunately for him, is just how the both of you are built. 

So Jisung listens and leaned further down into your body. Just that subtle adjustment in the position makes you twist from the waist up at how deep Jisung’s cock is now filling you. It brings a sick smile to his face when your moans get louder around the ball gag. The only method of dealing with the pleasure is clenching your fists at your ankles. Even that isn’t enough to manage it. 

“Fuck her like you mean it Jisung,” Minho snaps, growing impatient with how his boyfriend is performing.

Jisung lowers himself down onto both of his elbows, resting more of his weight on top of your body. It allows him to slide in deeper, filling you right out that it squeezes a series of raspy moans from the base of your throat that are muted by the gag. Jisung visibly shudders when he bottoms out, feeling like if he thrusts a few more times, he’ll cum in an instant.

“Can you believe him?” He asks you in your ear, staring at Minho at the same time. “Telling me what to do.”  

His tone and volume were deliberate and provoked a reaction from Minho. He stands up from his seat with  force, walks over to you both with an agitated gait and expression before grabbing a fistful of Jisung’s hair and yanking it back. 

“Do I have to shut you up with a ball gag too?” He questions. 

Jisung grins, thriving in the sting spreading around his scalp, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

Minho’s eye twitches. Out of you and Jisung, Minho would have to say that Jisung can be the brattiest at the worst of times, and you at the best of times. You’ll play up here and there, but Jisung has a tendency to not listen at all until Minho completely subdues him. If Jisung is still talking by the end of a session, Minho hasn’t done enough work to put him in his place. 

“Course you wouldn’t,” Minho releases his hand. “That’s because you’re a fucking slut.”

Jisung’s eyes glaze over, darkening as Minho speaks to him in such a degrading tone. It’s the only method of taming him; degradation and manhandling - the only ways to get Jisung off his high horse. His brain stalls and submits whenever Minho calls him types of names, treats him like a whore, even sometimes when he’s neglected in bed. 

His method of control when it comes to you needs to be an equal balance of degradation, bondage, and physicality - whether that’s pain play, clamps, orgasm torture, maybe a tantalising mixture of all three. 

Over the years that you’ve all been together, he's figured you both out. 

“That’s what you are, isn’t it Jisung?” He asks him. 

“Y-Yes,” he stammers before Minho releases and gives his head a bit of a shove - not too hard, but just enough for a lewd smile to grow on Jisung’s face.  

“Get out of her,” Minho orders. “On your knees.” 

“But-”

“Now,” he says threateningly, cutting his boyfriend's words short. “Wanna keep talking, might as well put that mouth of yours to use.”

Jisung licks his lips and swallows. He gently pulls out of you as you moan at the loss. Minho unbuckles the restraints that have been keeping your legs separate, and your ankles bound to your hands. Even though it feels good to be out of the same position, you miss the heavy feeling of being restrained. The idea of not being able to move itches a part of your brain that you didn’t know existed - especially when you’re being physically and literally bound to cum. 

Even though you’re free now, you still behave obediently and follow through with whatever Minho says. 

“Please fuck me instead,” Jisung mumbles with deep doughy eyes that can make just about anyone fold. 

Not Minho though. Not when he’s in an unshakeable mindset as he manhandles Jisung onto his back on the bed with so much ease, pinning his wrists next to his head, “you’ve already asked for too much tonight. You can just take whatever I decide to give you.”

Jisung pouts. While he wallows in the sadness of the hope to get railed, Minho tends back to you to untie all the rope. When he’s finished, he places it to one side and unlatches the buckle to the ball gag from behind your head. A long line of saliva connects from your lips and the device that was used to keep you from talking. Minho likes seeing it though. A sick and twisted part of him almost makes him want to spit in your mouth. 

“You, on your knees too,” he says to you before you join Jisung on the floor, waiting patiently. 

“W-Why can’t you fuck me?” You ask him.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Minho asks you back.

“Yes but-“

“Good girls do what they’re told the first time they’re asked to do something,” he cuts you mid sentence right away. He’s not about to put up with an attitude from you right now. Not when he’s this horny.

Minho sits on the edge of the bed, unzips his pants to reveal his cock already leaking with pre-cum at the tip. Both you and Jisung are keen to get your mouths around your boyfriend's cock, almost salivating when you see it.

“Open,” Minho instructs.

There’s no time either of you waste trying to blow him. You use your mouths as if you were both made for it - made to please him. So you take turns in taking as much of his cock as you both can down your throats. Minho’s hands bunch into fists, gripping the sheets beneath him as his head tips back. Without looking at either of you, the lewd, wet sounds and the hot sensation of your mouths are enough to keep him going. 

Then again, he enjoys watching you work. So he brings his head back up, taking a look at Jisung who’s eagerly waiting for his turn while you use your mouth up and down Minho’s length. He pets under Jisung’s chin and caresses the side of your face at the same time. But when his high approaches fast, he resorts to gripping a fistful of your hair instead.

"So fucking good," Minho grunts through his gritted teeth. Jisung listens to you being praised and scooches closer so that he can try to get his mouth around Minho's cock too.

"Fuck!" He groans. "That's it...making me cum."

In a matter of seconds, Minho doesn't hold back. Both you and Jisung peel off of him as he paints both of your faces with strings of white, warm cum. Minho has always been a 'heavy load' type of guy which is a godsend for people like you and Jisung who don't dare to waste any of it.

As Minho descends from his dizzy, euphoric high, it gives him a bit of time to absorb the mess he's made before him. Jisung uses his thumb to carefully swipe some of Minho's jizz from your lips and gets you to suck it off.

He then gently slides his hand across the underside of your face to the side of your head where he pulls you in to kiss him. That kiss quickly turns into a heated and aggressive makeout where Jisung pins you on your back to the floor. 

“On the floor?” Minho raises a brow, trying not to smile while he catches his breath. 

It only occurs to him now as Jisung is holding you down that you both must be desperate for each other to fuck on the ground. Despite the mess, neither of you cares about it. You can taste Minho on Jisung’s tongue and vice versa. The instigator sitting on the edge of the bed thinks it’s equally as hot, but not a surprise. 

"Fuck me," you whimper when you break free from each other momentarily. "Hurry, please."

"Shh," Jisung hushes with a shaky breath as he aligns the tip of his cock with your entrance once more.

It's not before long until Jisung actually starts fucking you properly this time. Earlier on, he never had the proper chance to after being interrupted by Minho. That's only because his ego interfered. Now he can fuck you as if it's the last thing he's ever going to do.

It's a pleasure for Minho to sit back and enjoy watching you both fuck until you’re shaking around each other. He just loves this - seeing you both rabid with lust that nothing else matters. Minho reckons if anyone were to just walk into the room, that wouldn’t stop you and Jisung from fucking. If anything, he thinks Jisung would probably go harder.

The thought gives him a naughty idea. 

He knows what happens when you’re both needy at the exact same time. It’s always Minho trying to train two untamed animals just going at each other or him. However, Minho will never complain because there is no reason to. He appreciates the level of need you both have for each other, for him as well. That’s what makes the relationship tick, is that love is distributed equally and at high volumes.  

"R-Right there," you mutter, eyelids fluttering as Jisung rocks into you repeatedly. "Cumming...gonna cum."

You bite down into the skin of his shoulder, trying so hard not to scream from the way he’s making you cum. Jisung on the other hand is the opposite - moaning like a slut when he runs face first into an eye-rolling orgasm. 

“Yes, yes! Fuck…making me cum so fucking hard…” Jisung wrestles the words out of his mouth before moans start ripping his throat. 

Neither of you had orgasmed any quicker. If it weren’t for Minho and his deliberate teasing, both you and Jisung would’ve taken longer to cum. Instead, your walls are spasming around Jisung’s cock when it shoots a hot load inside of you.

You’re clinging onto him when he cums, hearing him so vocal always turns you on - same with Minho. It’s a sign that they feel good, and that’s always the hope whenever they stuff you to the hilt.  

"Holy shit," Jisung is panting, almost like he just swam to the surface for air. His hips slow down to a reasonable pace, dragging in and out of you for as long as he can before he pulls out.

From the bed still witnessing all the antics unfold, Minho can't help but watch the way Jisung's cum slowly leaks out of you. It almost makes him wish he was hard enough again to fuck it back into you. But he knows there's probably another time for that.

"You both okay?" Minho asks.

Your hand rests on your head, still splayed on the floor, "mm."

Jisung doesn't answer verbally, but gives a silent nod.

"Okay, I’ll help you both up and we can head to the bathroom so I can clean you up,” Minho adds. “That sound okay? Then afterwards, I’ll order us some food and we can relax for the rest of the evening.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jisung replies.

-

A/N: I swear I'm not useless by not uploading lol as I mentioned in another post, I've been so busy with work that it's just not even funny. I will still power on with Kinktober though! Once again, thank you for supporting my work and being patient with me! xxx

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut

[getonite]

YOU KNOW I LOOK TOO GOOD TO NOT BE HIDEOUS!

( synop. the voice inside of dazai's head swallows him whole ) contains. 1.8k+ wc — gn!reader ; dazai angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers ( hinted ), dazai gets a hug, alcoholism, drunk!dazai, pre-ada but post-pm, mention of vomit, dazai has a panic attack + cries, implied sh scars. ( the author is back on their torturing dazai bit ; this song literally belongs to him, okay. kinda pt2 to my prev dazai fic. )

"Dazai . . . "

"Dazai."

"OSAMU!"

Dazai twitches, awakened by the familiar sound of a yelling voice. "Huh?" his voice slurs as he sits up slowly, his body clearly in pain. You sniff, groaning the thick smell of alcohol stuck in his clothes. "Don't yell, hangover . . . " he grumbles. "Or maybe I'm still drunk."

"Get up," you say firmly, looking down at his slumped body resting against the wall.

He must've been downing drinks last night, though, at least not to the point where he couldn't figure his way home. Though, it seems he couldn't get into the house as his keys are resting in his hand and he's sitting onto the concrete next to the door.

"Huh? Wha—What, I'm getting- huh?"

You sigh and loop your arm underneath his, carefully pulling him inside of the house. You carefully grab the keys and set them on the rack near the door. Dazai let's out a drunken giggle as you pat him down, making sure that everything he left with is still with him.

"You are so fucking irresponsible," you hiss, tugging Oda's coat off of his lanky body. After forcing him to sit down, you walk to the kitchen to get him a much needed glass of water.

"Oh, coooome on," he hiccups, "You love me though.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, "Your lucky no one found you black out drunk like that and stole your shit. Or worse, killed you." You emphasize your woods, setting the cup ( you don't trust him with a glass ) of water in front of him. "Or have you forgotten, you just left the Port Mafia?"

Dazai sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your statement.

After months of hiding, you'd think he'd get it. Maybe that he'd follow suit of you. Stay low, stay quiet, and say lawful. Apparently not. He can't even stay clean.

There's a thought of wanting to punch him, maybe it'll knock some sense into him you think. Taking a deep breath, you bend down, slipping off his shoes and putting them next to the door. "Drink your water, please," you grunt," I'll run you a bath."

"Mhm~!" Dazai sings. He's been mumbling and humming tunes, kicking his feet as you attempt to clean him up.

After a couple of minutes, you walk down the hallway toward him, "Alright, c'mon!" Dazai giggles, hurriedly getting up from his seat. Though you see the scene happen in slow motion. As if he had low iron ( which he probably does ), the blood rushed down towards his feet and he immediately stumbles, hanging onto the table as he tries to gain his bearings.

"Osam—" you pause when you see his puffed cheeks. You sigh and dash for the small trashcan in the bathroom and hold it below his mouth. And a second later, you hear the gross sound of vomit.

You rub his back, waiting for him to finish before you even attempt to bring him to the bathroom. You almost gag as you bring him carefully to the bathroom and strip his clothes, unraveling his bandages as well.

A wave of both guilt and disappointment passes through you as you see him flop into the filled bathtub. He's thin. New scars have appeared a top the old and ( incorrectly ) healed ones. He's too pale, his hair is back to the state it was when he first appeared, and he reeks of the bar. Even after your efforts, it seems as if you can't get him out of this slump. "Osamu . . . "

Dazai lifts his head, silently responding to your voice. All of the mumbling, sound effects, and humming are stopped as you carefully clean his skin.

"What is going on with you?" There's a deep frown on your face as you inspect his forearm. "No matter how much I try, you only clean yourself up when I make you."

"I work, you sit in a bar, come home and plop yourself on the couch without a fucking word," you hiss. Dazai flinches, though your not sure if it's your voice, or your movements. Regardless, a sense of guilt floods you and you take a deep breath.

"What is it?" You pause and look at him, "I know you're still recovering from Oda, I understand grief. But you refuse to talk about it and then drown yourself in alcohol, no matter what I do."

There's attempt to keep your voice calm and level, though he can hear it. The underlying emotions of annoyance, worry, and disbelief.

His eyes are downcast, focused on the water covering his lower half. They're dazed, pupils dilating as they stay focused on the one spot. "Osamu?" You frown, eyes flickering to study his face. Your face falls when you hear the quiet sound of his breathing.

His chest shakes as he breathing increases, his jaw shaking in an attempt to say words.

"Oh . . . Osamu," you mumble as tears swell in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and onto the arms resting in his lap. His arm flinches at the sting of the salty tear to the cuts on them.

You carefully get into the bathtub fully clothed behind him. He feels the warmth of your skin touch his as you carefully grab onto him, holding him close with pressure on his chest from your arms. "You're alright, I promise. It's okay," you whisper. His trembling hands touch your arms.

The silent tears continue to fall, the sound of the drops hitting the water, and his ragged breathing fill the air.

"Hey," you whisper, "Can you do something for me? The bathroom is kind of bland, but can you point out 5 things you see?" Dazai gulps, your voice sounding distant despite how you're hugged to him. Nevertheless, his eyes dart around the room, he attempts to find something to grab onto to.

His jaw ticks, "The- The shampoo," he croaks. You nod with a small smile growing on your face, "Good. It's okay, try to breathe," your hand rests against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. "Tell me some more . . . "

Dazai sniffs, chest stuttering rapidly, "Your— s-s- sweatpants." His grip tightens on your arm as more tears slide down his face. "That's it, can you give me another one?"

"The," he gulps, "Clock."

"Come on, you got it. Can you give me another one?"

His lips tremble, teeth clacking together in an uncomfortable pace. He sucks in a breath, vision fuzzy as he focuses on your voice. "Uhh, the toilet," he whimpers, glossy tears clouding his view before they spill. You nod, "Good job, one more."

Dazai squeezes his eyes shut before blinking, to search for something else. "Soap, the soap."

You help him attempt to breathe, "Good. Now breath, just feel the way my chest is moving."

For the next few minutes, you talk him through the 5-4-3-2-1 method until he's relaxed in your hold. The water has gone cold, and the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes cling to your skin. "How about . . . " you start, "I clean you up, then we judge what to do hm? You just— you need a good bath and some food."

Dazai nods silently. He's not entirely in the room. His eyes are unfocused as he feels your careful hands gliding along his skin, though everything feels muffled to him, the room beginning to blur once more before your hand slightly pulls him from his disassociate state.

You pull him from the tub, drying him off, cleaning his arms and legs, wrapping his wounds in bandages, and cutting his hair again. ( Making sure he brushes his teeth )

No matter how many times he attempts to tune in on your voice, he can't do it. Nor can he focus on anything. His hands don't feel like his hands. The table doesn't feel like it's familiar texture. The room doesn't smell right. He doesn't sink into the seat correctly. And the chopsticks send tingles through his hand. None of it feels real.

He feels your warm hand touching the back of his neck. "Breathe," you whisper, "Touch it again. Hold it and breathe, it'll feel right."

His world is fuzzy, except the static quiets when you touch him. He slowly eats, the entire time with you keeping a warm hand on him.

Dazai starts to wake up as you carry him to the bed, pulling him into your embrace. There's silence throughout the room, not a sound unleashed to part the quiet atmosphere. Well, until you speak. "Osamu . . . " you whisper, fingers dancing in his head of curls as you carefully think of what to say. "I love you."

The man's eyes widen at your soft words. "No matter which way you choose to interpret that. I do."

"Which is why I have this urge to take care of you. It's what drives to clean up your empty bottles and canned food. And it drives to wonder what can I do to help you?"

Dazai gulps, his fingers entangled in the fabric of your new shirt.

"Your two years of hiding are almost over," you whisper, "Im selfish, you've known that since we were kids. So please, just promise me something. I don't need your thoughts, your feelings, nothing. Just two words."

"Hm?" Dazai looks up at you, having a feeling as to what you'll say.

"I'll sound cringe," you roll your eyes with a faint smile on your face, "but—promise me you'll tell me when you feel like your falling again. Doesn't matter how much I have to do it, I'll pick you back up. Cut your hair, change your bandages, whatever. I just—I hate seeing you like that. You just have to tell me."

Dazai remains silent, simply laying against you.

"I sorry," he whispers. You sigh, "Don't say sorry, just promise. I said I'd protect you when we were little, I mean that, even if you are older than me ( by a year ). I just need you to promise."

"I promise," he whispers.

You smile and mess with the small hairs on the back of his neck. "Good."

A faint smile appears on Dazai's face, one you can't see of course. "Well, first order of buisness," you speak. Dazai frowns, looking up at you.

"You're banned from all bars."

"Hey!" Dazai shrieks, shooting up to look down at you.

"You throw up on me, I'll kill you," you say firmly.

"Thought you were supposed to protect me," Dazai frowns, with a teasing verse.

"I can knock some sense into you."

"Asshole."

"Mhm," you hum, pulling him back on top of you, making sure he's comfortable beneath the sheets. "Also . . . " He mumbles.

"You love me?"

A couple of months later, you walk with Dazai to the four-story building of your workplace. Before the man can even open his mouth as you walk through the door, "Do not flirt with her."

Dazai whines as you drag him upstairs and to a door that reads 'Armed Detective Agency.'

A hum leaves your lips as you walk in, lugging Dazai along by his collar. Your eyes drift to a grey-haired man in traditional Japanese clothing, a green haori draped over his kimono.

You throw Dazai forward, walking to the side of him.

"President, this is the one I was talking about."

the ending was kind of ass. i think i lost the concept a bit lol. i hope you appreciate this a little. reblogs r appreciated!!

#( mission ) — o. dazai #bsd x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #bsd fluff #bsd angst #dazai x reader #dazai x gn reader #dazai fluff #dazai angst #anime x reader #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 21: It's now or never

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader

🗡️ word count: 19.4k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️warnings: anxiety spiraling; Yoongi's scar; baby Jimin is still in a coma; explicit smut (oral, vaginal, and anal sex; face riding; squirting; spitroasting; getting messy with cum; all holes tended to; ass eating and mutual fingering; some very interesting positions that i don't know how to name; subby Yoongi; mc being a bit more dominant; Namjoon is Namjoon; subspace; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; semi-public sex); graphically violent dreams; mc has a lot a lot a lot a lot of feelings.

🗡️note: we're speedrunning the healing time of a headwound okay medical professionals. ignore how fast Yoongi heals. anyway, big should out to @sweetestofchaos for the existence of Dionysus, the club in this fic. more details in the end notes so please check those out!!! also lmaooo this chapter made me and my beta reader cry so good luck!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on sept. 2023 | read on ao3

The flight to Hong Kong is a little over three and a half hours, but you are so antsy the entire time that it feels like it takes all fucking day. Namjoon attempts to distract you with episodes of an anime that involves demon hunting, you think, but you are unable to focus on the plot.

He even attempts to distract you with his hands and lips, leaving warm kisses along the expanse of your neck while his hands push up the skirt of your floral sundress, charting familiar paths they took only a few hours earlier and so many times before—many times which had ended with your thighs wrapped around his neck, begging for reprieve from overwhelming pleasure. 

But you are unable to stop your mind from running in circles. You cannot relax.

All you can think about is Yoongi and his wound. Yoongi and his distance. Yoongi and whatever the fuck he is doing in Hong Kong. Yoongi meeting with members of the Busan family—meeting with his ex. 

This morning, lying in Yoongi's bed, it was much easier to relax and let go of your worries. But now, in the air, on your way to see him, you cannot quiet your mind for the life of you. 

Mere hours, laying in Yoongi's large bed with an afterglow from Namjoon's talented mouth and hands, the two of you had a nice talk about his fears and worries, putting a lot into perspective and assuaging all the feelings of bitterness and frustration that you felt over the last several days. You truly do not blame him for needing to have some time and space to himself—he and Yoongi have a bond so deep, it is no wonder that Namjoon's thoughts become insurmountable. 

Namjoon admitted that he had actually not been able to get ahold of Yoongi and that you were going to surprise him with a visit tomorrow, having already spoken to Uiseok about dropping in. Everything he said about Yoongi regretting creating distance and all that was just him babbling because he was high and stressed out—something you relate to after the night you and Jeongguk shared. He was desperate to keep you from worrying as much as he was.

But then Yoongi finally responded to Namjoon's texts and it changed the trajectory of everything, spurring you two to get onto a plane as quickly as possible. What was originally meant to be a trip to bring him home tomorrow became a mad dash to pack a suitcase and get onto a flight as soon as you could. The piggyback ride from Jeongguk's place was only about nine hours earlier, yet it feels like so much time has passed. 

And if all of this is not enough, you spiral thinking about the whirlwind of returning to Namjoon's arms after the tumultuous night spent with Jeongguk, barely able to fathom the fact that you are closing in on Hong Kong and that in the next hour or so you will be back in Yoongi's arms. It takes all the effort you have to not think back to Jeongguk asking those fateful words. Do you think you could fall for someone like me?

All that matters to you is that you, Yoongi, and Namjoon will soon be back together at last. It feels like each time you make progress in your relationship and something good happens that pulls you closer, something terrible happens that rips you apart. You are certain that you cannot possibly handle another thing ripping the three of you apart. Not after all you have been through. 

When the plane finally begins to descend, your heart goes haywire. All you want is to wrap your arms around Yoongi and bring him home. There has been too much distance between the two of you lately, and you are beginning to feel sick with worry. Instead you hug your purse tight to your chest, feeling cool black leather against your palms.

You operate on autopilot as the cabin door opens and Namjoon ushers you out into the cool evening. Once more, you are landing in Hong Kong in the later hours of the day, and once more you have no intent on enjoying your stay, despite how much a small part of you wishes that you could. 

Uiseok and the rest of The Tigers have done absolutely nothing wrong, as far as you know, yet they are the last people you want to sit and schmooze with. Your nerves are too on edge and fragile, and you are not sure you have the patience for any amount of socializing at the moment. 

You practically insist on the pilot keeping the engine running, and you are thankful that the two of you have packed nothing more than a suitcase each with the bare minimum items that you need in order to enjoy a brief stay away from home. A member of the family's staff rolls the suitcases behind you, and you have half a mind to tell him to just leave them on the plane.

"Worst case scenario, we should be able to sleep in Taehyung's suite," Namjoon says as you stomp toward the familiar red and white car, hoping to find Yoongi inside—hoping to drag him out by the lapels and usher him straight onto the private jet. 

You hum in response and round the back of the car, bending low to peer inside, feeling your anger rise when you realize it is only Sohee who waits for you and no other passengers. A low, impatient grumble works from your chest through your lips and you sigh, then reach for the door handle and yank. 

"Welcome back," Sohee sing-songs with a sweet smile, body rotated to face you as best as she can.

Although it feels unconvincing, you smile back, doing your best to appear as friendly as possible given the current circumstances. It is not her fault that you are so pissed off, and you do not wish to take your anger out on her. 

Namjoon surprises you by approaching the front passenger seat and sliding in, and you huff out a sigh as you reach for your seatbelt and fight the urge to insist Sohee drives now before you lose your fucking mind. 

"I would have brought the lover boy but Uiseok mentioned it was meant to be a surprise," Sohee explains as she drives off, away from the jet. "I have a feeling the surprise has already been ruined, however; he was getting into the shower shortly before I left and muttering about getting presentable."

What kind of state is Yoongi in, you wonder. Has he been drinking and doing drugs? Has he been busy with new ideas for keeping the family safe? Is his hair still the same? Has he let himself go? More than a week has passed but it feels like it has been months.

Although you have only been here once, the scenery looks familiar. Green makes up the bulk of the neon lights, with bright bursts of red, yellow, and blue, and you allow your gaze to linger on details just long enough to capture them but not long enough to try to decipher anything. You even space out long enough that when Sohee pulls past a familiar restaurant front, you feel a burst of anxiety and begin to somewhat mindlessly pick at the hem of your soft light blue sweater sleeve. 

Without a word, the three of you exit the car as soon as she pulls up across the street from the pseudo restaurant. If you had a key to the place, you would be sprinting ahead, but instead you linger back and stumble forward at times, unsure what pace your body wants to keep; unsure whether you can handle being here at all. 

Namjoon's hand finds your lower back and the warmth is nice, but everything else about this trip feels ominous and off. There is something in the air that you cannot sort out the weight of, and it makes you want to squeeze your eyes closed and curl into a ball. 

Only when the door to the fake restaurant is opened and you enter the fluorescently lit space, do you realize Namjoon and Sohee are carrying on conversation. But what they are talking about flies right past you. 

That is, until Namjoon says, "Nah, I haven't spoken to her in years."

"Hmm?" you mutter as Namjoon's warm palm guides you to the right, through the kitchen and toward the walk-in cooler. 

"She was much more soft-spoken than I expected," Sohee says, and you turn your attention to your left, to Namjoon, waiting for what he has to say next, in search of context clues because you do not want to admit that you have not been paying attention. You step into the cooler and blink as your eyes adjust to the much darker room.

Namjoon cracks a smile but his eyes are glazed over and distant as he stares ahead. "Her being soft-spoken is a mask, but so is any show of confidence. Truth be told, I don't think her father ever allowed her to learn how to express herself genuinely." He turns to you with a wink and adds, "Which is probably why Yoongi was so drawn to me while they were together," and you realize they are discussing Ryujin. 

"Was she here?" you ask as the three of you exit the cooler and you are forced to go in front of Namjoon while entering the narrow hallway. 

Sohee hums an affirmative with a shrug and halfway glances over her shoulder at you without looking past her curtain of dark hair to say, "But don't worry, Yoongi didn't seem too thrilled to see her."

The implication that you may be jealous makes you somewhat mad but you are in no mood to voice it. Sohee is not exactly someone you are eager to be on friendly or unfriendly terms with, and saying anything one way or another might sway you out of your current stance of perfect neutrality. You would rather keep your mouth shut and accomplish the task that you came here to see through without any conflict. 

You do hum, however. A burst of sound that is vaguely a drawn out consonant. Namjoon's hand rubs a small circle, and you keep your eyes on the furnishings that come into view when you enter the large chaotic maroon and gold space at the end of the hallway, doing your best to avoid looking at Sohee and anyone else who may be in the room. You can already sense that Yoongi is not present because neither Yoongi or Namjoon would be able to keep his presence a secret. 

"Like I said," Sohee yawns, tilting her head toward a hallway to the left, "in the shower."

As soon as the words leave her lips, you can hear the unmistakable sound of running water coming from a room down the hallway, and you toe out of your black sneakers and begin to make your way toward it. 

"Guest room is the third door on the right," Sohee informs and you nod while making your way to that very doorway without hesitation. You can sense without looking that Namjoon is following close behind. 

With heavy footfalls and a light sway to your step, you feel drunk—senses heightened yet somehow dull; details bright and twisted as if through a kaleidoscope. How many more times are you going to have to feel this dreaded anticipation laced with hope? This cannot be the lifestyle that you grow accustomed to and yet, you cannot stop your body from moving forward. 

The door is closed and you do not bother to knock before reaching for the small brass knob and pushing your way through. A terrible, dark part of you expects to find some sign of Yoongi's ex lingering in the room as if she has been the one to keep him company in your absence. But all you find is a small bed with the sheet pulled down on one side, one pillow that is indented and one that looks perfectly untouched, and a metal rack on which several black suits hang. 

A suitcase is sprawled open beneath a window that lets in the glow of streetlights and light reflected from the nearly full moon, and there are shirts, joggers, ties, and a square black bottle of cologne sitting on top. No sign of Ryujin, because why would there be?

The water shuts off in the bathroom, and rather than join Namjoon, who takes a seat at the foot of the bed, you yank the bathroom door open and call, "Yoongi!"

"Darling?" Yoongi responds through the fog and your legs turn soft, threatening to topple you over. 

Somehow your limbs manage to carry you forward, and you step into the yellow tiled room and come face to face with the man you love, gaze gravitating straight to his wound. Yoongi keeps the injured eye closed and you can see the stitches that run over his lid and brow and down to the apple of his cheek, along a reddened gash. Nausea rises, and you stumble to the right, hand gripping to the edge of the sink. 

"Fuck," you mutter before you can stop yourself, but Yoongi's smile does not falter.

He stands before you dripping wet and nude, and if you were not so overcome with the urge to vomit and run far, far away, your hands would be reaching to explore. How could you have done this to him? How can he smile at you as if it is nothing?

"Just a scratch," Yoongi says as he steps close, failing to assuage your anxiety. It almost angers you how nonchalant he is about it. 

"No," is all you can bring yourself to say, voice shaken and deep.

"Darling, please," Yoongi tries, stepping close with a pastel pink towel dangling from his fingertips that he makes no move to use on his wet skin. "You didn't come all this way to be too afraid to look at me, did you?"

Consonants and vowels attempt to pass through your lips as you shake your head, eyes and mouth worried and wide. "N-not— I'm—"

"Hey handsome," Namjoon says from behind you, ripping you from the trance you feel stuck in, and you twist quickly, slamming into Namjoon's chest before scrambling around him, out of his weak attempts at grasping you as you stumble back to the bed. 

All at once your body disagrees with gravity and you fall to your knees, arms reaching out to the bed but barely able to hang on. "What have I done?" you mumble weakly under your breath. 

Your head shakes listlessly while your eyes attempt to focus on the patterns of the comforter that you can feel but cannot see—lines of embroidered thread in shades of pink and red. You feel frantic and dizzy; sick to your stomach, and you are tempted to ask Sohee to drive you back to the jet. 

"I imagine it can't be easy," you hear Yoongi say sweetly in that kind and gentle voice that is reserved for you and Namjoon. "I am not offended in the least."

"Sweetheart," Namjoon calls, forcing your shoulders to lift to your ears. Why can't you disappear, just for a moment? Poof into thin air and become a dust mote while you get your bearings and stop panicking. "Did you take your medication this evening?"

It occurs to you that you have not. You manage to slide your arms down and rotate until you are on your butt on the floor with your shoulder leaning against the side of the mattress. You open the flap of your black leather purse and reach in to grab your phone, wondering why your daily alarm never went off, and you pull the device out only to realize that it has died. 

With a sigh, you rummage further in search of a little square pill packet. Before you can ask for water, you hear the bathroom sink running and a moment later, Namjoon emerges and hands you a small, dark yellow glass cup, which you reach for with shaking hands. You take a gulp of tepid water before setting the cup onto the floor and ripping open not only a packet of your medication, but a packet of Xanax, as well. 

"Would you prefer to stay here for the night or in Taehyung's suite?" Namjoon asks as he crouches before you, lifting a hand to gently rub the backs of his knuckles against your arm. 

"I wanna go home," you mutter weakly before knocking the pills from your palm to your mouth and swallowing them down with another gulp of water. Your eyes stare ahead to the side of Yoongi's open suitcase and the pile of black linen that pours from it.

"We could go home if you wish," Yoongi says, legs coming into the periphery.

You drink the last of the water and clench the small glass tight in your hand, then say, "I'm sorry," while closing your eyes.

"There's no need to apologize," Yoongi responds, voice close as if he, too, is crouched beside you. 

You keep your eyes closed as you mutter, "I didn't mean to react so poorly. It's been a long day…a long fucking week." 

"Care to talk about it?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon's knuckles continue to run up and down your arm, pushing and pulling gently at the fabric of your sweater, and you squeeze your eyes tighter and shake your head. "I want to sleep."

"Here or in Taehyung's suite?" Namjoon asks once more. 

"Or in the jet?" Yoongi adds. 

What you really want is to turn around and go home. You feel exhausted and seeing Yoongi is much harder than you expected. But it feels like a waste of time and resources to fly all the way here only to go straight back, so you concede to a night in Hong Kong and even allow yourself to consider doing a little sightseeing tomorrow if the three of you feel up to it. 

"The suite," you finally say, and Namjoon stops caressing you in order to stand and place a phone call. 

"Darling," Yoongi tries, and you finally pry your eyes open, finding that you have to blink a couple of times. When you turn to him, his injured eye is still closed and his open eye is downturned and concerned. "Is it really that horrible to see me?"

"No," you admit, because you really ought to stop being such a baby.

"I've missed you so much, but if I am being honest, this is one of the reasons I have been keeping a distance."

Guilt overtakes your fear and you suddenly feel terrible. "Oh."

"I thought that maybe if I healed first, you would want to look at me like you used to," Yoongi says with a frown. 

You begin to peel yourself off the end of the bed and rotate fully to face Yoongi, who crouches in just a pair of black briefs with the pink towel slung around his shoulders. His hair hangs like a damp black curtain around his pretty face, cheeks a little flushed, and you feel the sudden urge to crawl into his arms. 

"It's not that I don't want to look at you," you respond weakly while Namjoon paces around the bathroom speaking into his phone, presumably to Taehyung. "I just feel so awful, and seeing the injury is a reminder of how I fucked up."

Yoongi sighs and his lips turn up to a soft smile. "Darling, I can never hold an accident against you and Namjoon. Please know that I am not upset with you."

"Alright," you respond, unsure whether you are fully ready to accept what Yoongi says, but willing to at least try.

Namjoon returns and says, "Tae's calling the hotel now."

"I took a Xanax," you admit with a frown and both men begin to chuckle. 

"Do you want to try to eat something before you get too sleepy?" Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, making his smile widen. "Alright, then we'll order room service once we get there, because I definitely need to eat something."

The rest of the evening is a blur, in part because your emotions are all over the place, and in part because the medication completely dulls those emotions as you begin to shut down. Yoongi takes no time at all to get dressed and pack his suitcase once Taehyung calls with the confirmation that he has booked his suite for the three of you. 

Rather than ask one of The Tigers to drive you to the suite, Yoongi calls a driver who picks you up in the same type of armored vehicle that the men drive back home. You close your eyes once you are settled in the backseat and barely register Namjoon carrying you from the sedan to the penthouse and tucking you into bed. 

Thrice you wake up—once to pee and once because you hear a loud sound from the main room of the suite, you presume from the television. And then you wake up to the feeling of the bed dipping on either side of you and warm arms wrapping you in an embrace that feels like home.

You are somehow the last to wake up in the morning, and you find both Yoongi and Namjoon getting dressed in black tees tucked into black slacks. Yoongi wears his black eyepatch and has the top half of his hair pulled into a bun atop his head while the rest hangs almost to his shoulders.

"Are we leaving?" you ask, catching the attention of both men, who turn to you with smiles.

"Is it alright that we do?" Yoongi responds, threading a black leather belt through the loops of his slacks. "I know we have never done proper sightseeing here, but I am somewhat eager to get home."

"We can go home," you say as you sit up, stretching your stiff limbs and feeling groggy from getting too much sleep. 

Namjoon adjusts the Rolex around his wrist, then approaches with a smile, kneeling on the edge of the bed to lean close and give you a kiss, which you meet him halfway for. "After we have some breakfast," he says, and you smile widely and nod. 

Part of you laments going home already because you do not wish to return to a world where Yoongi has responsibilities. You imagine how nice it would be to stay in bed all day with the two of them and it tugs at your heartstrings. 

What would it be like to have a couple of days off like regular people? Sure, Yoongi has the money and influence to go anywhere and do anything, but it only feels like an illusion of freedom.

By the time you roll out of bed and stumble into a pair of black leggings and tug on a black sweater, room service is delivered and causing the entire suite to smell of eggs, meats, sweet breads, and coffee. The three of you share an easygoing breakfast with Namjoon and Yoongi discussing the deal that was struck while you space out and stare ahead at the table of food. 

And once you are finished eating, the three of you head back to the airport for a nice flight just short of four hours that involves the two of them talking over the same demon hunting anime that you struggled to pay attention to the first time.

Hoseok greets the three of you at the airport, and you are pleased to see his smiling face. You even surprise him with a hug when he exits the vehicle to hug the men, and you assure him that you have been taking good care of the pajamas he so graciously gifted you.

"So, the deal," Hoseok prompts as soon as everyone is settled, with Namjoon in the front seat and Yoongi joining you in the back.

"The girls are going to back off," Yoongi responds through a sigh as if he is bored of talking about this already. "We are keeping the dock in Busan and I am offering them a higher cut to keep them off our asses. With Jimin still injured, there is nobody I trust to oversee Serendipity aside from Jeongguk, so I have offered it to Ryujin as a consolation prize."

"Eager to keep Jeongguk home?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi hums in agreement. "We just got him back here full time and I would like to keep it that way. Once Jimin does wake up, he will need all the help he can get at Paradise."

"And did they have anything to say about the attacks?" Hoseok asks, causing you to feel uneasy.

Yoongi hums and takes his time responding, reaching across the empty middle seat to find your hand and hold onto it. You lace your fingers with his and stare down at your conjoined hands, waiting for him to continue.

"Ryujin apologized and admitted she was being a brat. She had the gall to say she was only sending out pawns to shake things up a bit, and that she never expected any of us to get hurt."

"Fucking bitch," Namjoon grits just barely loud enough for you to hear, and although you agree, you are surprised to hear him say that.

With another sigh, Yoongi adds, "She seems very remorseful for Jimin and offered a handsome sum of money to assist with his hospital bills, but I turned her down. The last thing I need is to give her a reason to hold anything else over my head…plus I don't need her fucking money. When she promised never to attack again, it felt genuine, but I suppose we will have to see how it goes."

"And Hyungseo?" Hoseok asks.

"It seems Ryujin has given over responsibility to Hyungseo but still calls the shots in many ways. I can't quite figure the two of them out."

Namjoon turns enough to look over his shoulder at Yoongi. "What do you mean?"

"They seem…close," Yoongi says, gently squeezing your hand as he pauses. 

Hoseok's voice is dripping with intrigue. "Close, how?"

"Too close to just be friends," Yoongi responds, "but maybe I am just reading into things too much. Either way, she kept her distance from me when we met, so whatever Hyungseo is doing, it is keeping her distracted."

"Thank god," you mutter before you can stop yourself, earning another squeeze from Yoongi's hand. 

Before anything else can be said, Hoseok makes a right turn and you hear the telltale sign of the metal gates scraping open, gaining you access to the mansion. And as soon as Hoseok pulls into the driveway, your eyes land on a sleek dark grey Porsche that sits in front of the garage. Atop the sports car is a giant red bow, and you know before asking that it is a gift for you.

"We're still two days away," Yoongi explains, referring to your birthday as he squeezes your hand once again, "but we couldn't resist."

You are so focused on the Porsche that you do not notice Jeongguk until Hoseok pulls up beside the car and he comes walking over from the mansion's front door, twirling the key fob around his index finger. 

Jeongguk is dressed in satin as if he is headed off to Paradise next, and the thought makes you feel sad; you wonder if they will bother to open it back up before Jimin recovers. The feeling does not have a chance to linger, however, because before you can hone in on the thought for too long, Jeongguk is opening your door with an impatient smile, eyes wide as if wondering what the hell is taking you so long to unbuckle your seatbelt. 

"Dollface," he says, kicking up butterflies and anxiety in your tummy.

"Gguk," you respond softly as you reach for the seatbelt and undo it. 

Everyone else is out of the vehicle by the time you are shoving Jeongguk out of the way and placing your feet on the ground. Your legs are tired from sitting for so many hours, and you stand on your toes to stretch before reaching for the key to your new car, which Jeongguk predictably holds over his head. 

With a huff, you reach, but it is no use, making you frustrated enough to shove at his chest with your palms, barely making him stumble backward. Thankfully Namjoon is on your side, and he reaches for the key fob and frees it from Jeongguk's grasp, making the youngest pout. 

"Thanks, Joonbug," you say with a wink as he hands it over, leaning close for a kiss before he lets you have it. 

The car is gorgeous, but there is only one problem…

"I haven't driven in years," you admit sheepishly, feeling your palm begin to sweat as it grips onto the key fob. "I don't know if I even remember how."

Namjoon says, "We'll teach you," at the same time Jeongguk says, "We can take her for a spin," making your cheeks warm. 

You turn to the left to find Yoongi—who has been awfully quiet—leaning against the nose of Hoseok's sedan. He smiles and nods his chin to Namjoon, saying, "He's an excellent teacher," and that settles it. Or, perhaps you will allow both men to give you guidance, and Yoongi if he wants. It takes a village, and all that.  

Although you are thrilled to be trusted with this symbol of freedom, you are also swallowing back so many emotions. This car has to have cost them quite a lot.

"She's armored," Yoongi says, pulling your attention back to him. As he steps toward the car and rubs his palm over the curve of its hood, you laugh to yourself over the way he is already personifying it. 

But then his words sink in, and you understand the gravity of them. Your concern must show, because he cocks his head, searching your face before adding, "As an extra precaution. We armor every car that we buy, darling; no need to worry."

"Of course," you mutter, returning your gaze to the car, then looking around to the men present. Your eyes trail from Namjoon to Jeongguk as you say, "Thank you," before returning to Yoongi.

"Yoongi bought it," Namjoon says playfully. "We just helped pick it out."

"It's beautiful."

"This is the first of many gifts," Yoongi says as he approaches, dragging his fingertips along the hood of the car until he no longer can and letting his arm fall to his side. "You will have plenty to unwrap in the coming days."

Your heart pounds and you smile, taking a step toward Yoongi and reaching for his belt loops, giving him a little tug that makes his smile widen. 

"And what if I just want to unwrap you?" You ask, causing a sigh and a groan from two of the four men present.

"This is my cue to leave," Hoseok announces while Jeongguk mutters, "Take me with you, hyung," and you laugh softly, eyes never leaving Yoongi.

He says, "That can be arranged, darling," and you raise your eyebrows, eager to find out just how much he means it. It has been far too long since you have gotten to enjoy him and now that you are home, you would like nothing more than to climb into bed.

"Alright, peace out," Jeongguk shouts, followed by the chime of a bell, and you turn to find him riding away on the mint green bicycle that feels more like a thing of legend than a real object. 

Without saying goodbye, Hoseok simply drives off, leaving you, Yoongi, and Namjoon alone with your suitcases standing on the driveway. 

"Shall we?" Namjoon asks, and you nod, turning your gaze to him as he begins to unlock the mansion. 

"Yes, please," Yoongi responds, taking your hand and leading you toward the door. 

"The luggage," you say, pulling toward where the suitcases sit, but Namjoon says, "I got it. You focus on unwrapping your present," with a wink.

You are pulled up the steps into the mansion, stopping just fast enough for both you and Yoongi to kick out of your shoes—Yoongi never dropping your hand—then through the mansion and up the stairs to the second floor. Yoongi yanks one of the bedroom doors open and tugs you straight to the bed, then he spins and releases your hand to take you gently by the face and pull you in for a kiss. 

Yoongi's lips are soft and his scent is familiar, causing you to instantly relax into the feeling and lift your hands to rub over his ribs and chest, palms gracing over clothed nipples until he gasps against you. When he mutters, "Missed you," it is into your mouth and chased by his eager tongue, giving you no time to respond. 

As Yoongi begins to pull at your clothing and undress you hastily, you close your eyes and sway to the movements, lifting your arms over your head and slowly lowering them back to his chest. The air hits your bare skin, causing you to shiver, and when he eagerly shoves at your leggings, you begin to giggle, opening your eyes to find him staring at you with his one good eye.

"You're so beautiful," Yoongi mutters softly, squeezing at your heart.

All you can do is complain, "Stop," but he shakes his head and says, "It's true."

Footsteps travel up the stairs and you hear the sounds of small wheels rolling over marble and softening over a rug before the noise ends. You expect Namjoon to join the two of you, but then the sounds of slippers slapping against the steps recede, likely to continue collecting suitcases. 

Yoongi continues to paw at you, leaving the thin lace bra and panties on and pulling you at the hips to get impossibly closer while you begin to untuck Yoongi's black tee and gather the bottom hem before lifting the garment over his head. His hair is a bit wild when you toss the shirt away and you reach to push your fingers into it, mussing it up just enough to make him laugh and shake his head. 

"You're so beautiful," you say with a grin, watching as Yoongi blushes so slightly.

Namjoon's footsteps return and you begin to undo Yoongi's belt, slotting a thigh between his to apply just enough pressure to his crotch to make him hiss. Hands reach around you to assist with undressing Yoongi, and when his pants are dropped to the floor, you turn so Yoongi can assist you with undressing Namjoon.

Without words exchanged, you kiss and touch, caught between bodies, eyes cloudy. The three of you tangle together on the bed and slowly explore one another as if the time spent apart has made your fingers and lips uncertain despite following expertly charted paths. 

You make love, taking turns to focus two on one at a time, worshiping to the point of overwhelm, murmuring soft promises and professions of love. Your heart feels full and your limbs light as a feather, tingling from pleasure as you drift to sleep, unsure how much time has passed save for the gradually shifting light that comes in from outside. 

Even from the moment you wake up, you feel emotionally heavy. Your sky is overcast and the clouds are thick and threatening to burst, unlike the bright evening that greets you from outside. 

Yoongi and Namjoon are fully dressed and curled on the couch watching something on the television while Namjoon plays with Yoongi's hair. As you stir and stretch, both men notice, and Yoongi begins to sit up with a loud yawn, stretching his limbs. 

"Hey guys…" you begin, uncertain. Lately you have really been wanting to visit Jimin. And you are not sure why asking for it is so difficult, but you swallow thickly as the two of them watch you with soft, patient expressions, and you ask, "Do you think we could go see Jimin?"

Yoongi beams and Namjoon nods, and you let out the breath that felt trapped in your lungs. 

"I can call Tae and find out whether we could go right now if you want to," Yoongi suggests, and you nod, stretching one more time.

You hobble out of bed pad over to the closet to change out of the joggers and tee you slept in only to grab a new set. Your sweaters are in your own closet, and you make your way out of the master suite and over to your room, feeling like a zombie with legs that are too heavy with each step. 

Without turning on a light, you reach into the dark space and feel for a cotton sweater, yanking the sleeve out enough to see that it is a nice forest green and then yanking it harder to free it from its hanger. Since you are already in your bedroom, you brush your teeth in your own sink, then you haphazardly yank the sweater over your head and make your way back to where the men are. 

Yoongi and Namjoon stand beside the door to the master suite, and you nod to indicate that you are ready despite nobody asking, then the three of you make your way down the stairs to the main hall. You slide into some black sneakers and open the front door, greeted by a cold wind and warm sun. Winter is on the horizon. 

The walk to Taehyung's place is quiet, save for the crunch of gravel and fallen leaves underfoot. You hold Yoongi's hand on the right and Namjoon's on the left, letting go of Namjoon when you come out of the clearing at Seokjin and Hoseok's home to wave hello to the two of them who smoke on their front stoops, dressed dapperly in black and white. 

Jeongguk is also outside when you come upon his property, and he asks whether you mind that he joins you, stepping in line behind you three and filling the air with weed smoke and light conversation about the quickly changing weather. 

Once you arrive at Taehyung's house, you feel antsy. You have never seen someone in a coma before and you are scared of what you may find. 

Taehyung greets you at the front door, taking the joint from Jeongguk and offering it around before stamping it out. Being high will only make you sleepier, so saying no is easy. 

He leads you all downstairs to a large fluorescently lit space, to the right past several doors. "It is likely that he can hear you, so try not to say anything you wouldn't want to hear while in a coma," he instructs, and you swallow thickly and nod, steeling yourself for whatever state Jimin could be in. 

Only, as you enter the room and approach the bed, you find Jimin looking just as he always does—angelic and beautiful. He lays on his back with his eyes closed and his arms at his sides with various tubes attached to his hands, and there is a steady beeping coming from a monitor on the other side of the bed. 

Chairs already surround him, and as you step closer, Taehyung calls out, "You have company today, Jiminah!"

The way his silence and stillness tugs at you makes tears break instantly. You sit in the center chair closest to where his hand rests, and you take it gently in both of yours, careful not to pull on anything attached to it. 

"Hey, Jimin," you say weakly, fighting the tremble behind each word, "I've missed you a lot. I'm sorry I haven't visited yet."

The others take their seats, Yoongi and Namjoon to your right and Jeongguk and Taehyung to your left. They greet Jimin and tell him the good news about the deal that went through with The Tigers and the Busan girls. Yoongi tells him about your upcoming birthday and you tell him that you wish he could be there as tears pour down your cheeks. 

It feels surreal. Jimin appears completely unharmed and yet he lays there, succumbing to and healing from a pretty serious injury. Taehyung informs the group that the wound on his shoulder from the bullet is healing nicely, but that they are just waiting for him to wake up. He sounds hopeful that Jimin could wake up any time—that his brain is functioning and every once in a while, his fingers ever so slightly twitch. 

The mood is somber but also happy, and you are glad to finally see your friend again. Taehyung and Jeongguk offer everyone a drink, to which you all agree, and Namjoon follows the two of them out, leaving just you and Yoongi at his side. Your hands sweat from holding onto Jimin's so tightly but you refuse to let go. 

Yoongi places a hand over yours, and when you turn to him, tears fill his eyes. Then he blinks and they run down his cheeks, followed by a sniffle. 

"Baby," you mutter and Yoongi shakes his head, wiping at his cheeks with his free hand and saying, "It's alright. He'll come back to us."

The two of you sit a little while longer and the others return with glasses of whiskey. They regale you with stories of the crew from the early days, commenting on how young and innocent Jimin has always seemed but especially back then, and you have a hard time believing his soft cheeks wide eyes could have ever been more cherubic than they are now.

By the time you all decide to head back home you feel much lighter, and with a kiss to Jimin's forehead and cheek, you promise him that you will see him again soon. And then you exit the room beside Namjoon with Yoongi and the terror twins close behind. 

"Do you shave him?" Namjoon asks once you are out of the room.

"Of course I do," Taehyung responds as if offended. "Can't have our angel laying there with a beard sprouting from his face. He would kill me."

You laugh in tandem with the group and imagine Taehyung shaving Jimin's pretty face with a straight razor, or even a knife. The five of you convene upstairs and have one last drink, then you head home for the day feeling a bit tipsy from enjoying so much whiskey on an empty stomach.

"Pizza," Namjoon announces once the mansion is in sight, and you and Yoongi hum in agreement. Pizza sounds amazing.

After a post-pizza nap, you wake up with the desire to touch and kiss the men who hold you on either side. Yoongi is pressed against your back and you arch your body to rub your ass against his crotch while your lips and teeth find Namjoon's neck. 

Namjoon is the first to stir, groaning and sighing as you suck and kiss harder, right hand drifting across his chest and down to his cock which is already erect. He stretches and begins to shift around, pressing against you and muttering, "What's this, sweetheart?"

"Need you," you whine in return, still on the edge of sleep but eager to shake it away as one hand gropes Namjoon and the other reaches behind to paw at Yoongi.

Yoongi finally grumbles, and you look over your shoulder at his pretty, groggy face while Namjoon begins to pull off his clothing and settle on his side. You allow Namjoon to undress you, kicking your joggers and panties down under the comforter while your shirt is tugged over your head. 

With Yoongi waking up and stretching his limbs, you roll onto your side to face him and begin pulling at his clothing. His eyes open and he cracks a sly smile, saying, "Well hello, darling," in a tone that is extra gravely from sleep. 

"I need you, kitten. How should we have you?" you ask, fingers moving to his button and zipper, eyes never leaving his face.

Yoongi's lips open but no sound comes out, and you kiss along his chin and neck, reaching your hand into his slacks to give him a squeeze over his briefs. 

"Excellent question," Namjoon says from behind you, mouth dragging over your shoulders and neck.

You swish your bare ass against Namjoon, causing him to hiss and groan, hand gripping onto your hip as if desperate for you to be closer. You shove at Yoongi's slacks until he finally begins to kick them down, then you yank at his t-shirt, giggling as he groans half asleep and struggles to help pull it over his head.  

"I have an idea of how I want the two of you," Namjoon continues as his hand moves from your hip and gently grazes over your labia in the faintest touch. 

"Oh?" you ask with a shudder, eyes on Yoongi, who settles on his side.

Yoongi leans in close and slots your bottom lip between his, sucking and nipping hard enough to make you groan. You open your lips for him to explore but he sticks to the bottom one, licking and teasing it with his teeth and tongue. 

"I want you to sit on my face, sweetheart," Namjoon says, voice deep and low beside your ear. You feel him reach around you and begin to stroke Yoongi, who whimpers against your lips. "And I want Yoongi to fuck you while I eat you out."

Before you have a chance to say anything, Yoongi deepens the kiss, licking against your lips before probing his tongue eagerly against yours. Namjoon's mouth finds your neck and you gasp and shiver into the feeling, body turning to hot wax between them, melting into the mattress.

"On your knees," Namjoon instructs, and Yoongi breaks the kiss to smile against your lips.

You do as you are told, rotating onto your knees while Namjoon scoots down the bed away from the pillows. Once he is settled you crawl over to his head.

Your panties sit bunched up beside Namjoon’s knees and you grab them and reach back to shove them into Namjoon's face, giggling to yourself as he groans but opens his mouth to accept his fate. Then you settle back onto your knees and straddle Namjoon's head with your hands beside his knees, keeping your hips lifted so that he has to reach for you. 

It is futile to be a tease with two men who are much stronger than you, but you try your best, lifting your weight when Namjoon attempts to pull you into place, giggling and trembling when he gives your ass a playful smack before somewhat roughly forcing you to sit back. 

Your panties are still bunched up around his chin when he holds you in place and begins to lick and suck at your pussy lips and clit, sending a burst of arousal through you. Behind you, the bed dips, and you do your best to sit tall with your back straight, hands anchored against your thighs for stability. 

Namjoon's talented mouth and the sounds he makes when he savors you—hums and groans of satisfaction—work you up quickly, and with each lick and suck your body quakes with pleasure. Yoongi's arms wrap around you, hands claiming and squeezing your breasts while he gets close enough for you to bow your spine and rest your head against his shoulder. 

"Just look at you," he mutters against your neck, teeth grazing over your skin and adding to the overwhelm of bliss. "I want you to cum before I fuck you. Can you do that for me, darling?"

"Yes, sir," you all but moan as the steady tongue and lips work you over and send you close to the edge. 

"That's our good girl," Yoongi praises, pinching and rolling your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. "Always so perfect for us."

The way the two of them make you feel has your head spinning. Yoongi's words of praise rasped in his deep voice while his hands tease; Namjoon humming and groaning while he pushes you quickly toward orgasm, gripping your legs so tight that you have no choice but to stay in place; everything is a lot. 

"I'm gonna cum," you whimper as your quakes deepen, making your body jerk uncontrollably. 

"Of course you are," Yoongi teases, nipping at your neck, making you feel somewhat humiliated by how he always has to tease you for being easy. "Make a mess of our Joonie."

The thought of Namjoon's handsome face glistening with your cum is the push you need to plummet over the edge, and you bow your back further, digging your head into Yoongi while broken sobs and moans fall from your lips. You cum hard, pressing your pussy against Namjoon's mouth as your body trembles through each heaved breath. 

Namjoon lays his tongue flat for you to use and each movement drags your lips and clit over it, feeling heavenly. That is, until the overstimulation kicks in. 

"Fuck," you whimper as your hips continue to convulse, unable to settle and relax. 

"Bend," Yoongi instructs, releasing your breasts to rub his hands over your back and shoulders only to begin pressing you forward. 

You obey, leaning forward until you are down on your elbows and close enough to Namjoon's cock to begin teasing the tip with your lips and tongue. Namjoon moans and you giggle as his dick jumps from the gentle touch. Precum dribbles from his slit, inviting you to lap it up and tease him with your lips.

Namjoon's lips and tongue continue to pleasure you, and you are thankful that from this position you are able to relax a little more, settling on one elbow while you lift your other hand to slowly stroke his length. Namjoon is vocal, moaning and groaning muffled sounds against your cunt that encourage you to not to stop.

Two hands grip your ass and you expect to feel the blunt tip of Yoongi's cock. In fact, you are so eager to feel him that you clench around nothing in anticipation. When Yoongi's tongue greets you instead, probing into your dripping hole and then dragging up, over your ass, you squeal and dig your face into Namjoon's pelvis. 

Two tongues as skilled as these are dangerous, and you do your best to breathe through the quick pace at which your pleasure builds and threatens to drown you. Yoongi focuses on your asshole, licking and teasing, digging the very tip of his tongue inside and making each breath come out ragged and quick despite your best efforts.

"Oh my god," you moan as the pleasure feels too intense you fear you might not make it out of this alive. You knew it would feel amazing to be devoured by the two of them, but never could you have imagined it would be this good. 

When Yoongi's tongue laps over you one last time and you feel the mattress dip while he adjusts behind you, there is a brief moment in which you are disappointed. But then his cock rubs over your entrance and you feel the eager thrill fill you once more. 

However, before Yoongi presses into you, he drags himself lower. Namjoon's lips leave your cunt and you hear a gasp and a hiss come from Yoongi that makes your heart pound. Yoongi holds onto your hips, digging his weight into you as he thrusts downward and you wish you could watch his cock disappear between Namjoon's full, pretty lips. 

Then Yoongi spreads and slightly lifts you, and before you have a chance to anticipate how he may feel, he thrusts deep in one swift movement, spearing you wide. The stretch makes you shout and whimper, and you bury your head into Namjoon's soft thigh skin while Yoongi pulls back and snaps forward again and again.

Sobs and broken moans fall from your lips, and a second pair of hands grabs your thighs and holds you in place. You feel Namjoon's lips and tongue drag over your clit in broad, sloppy strokes, and any ounce of sanity you had left crumbles away. 

Namjoon's skin is hot and moist against your lips, and you lift your head just enough to take a mouthful of his cock and do your best to suck while Yoongi fucks you. Precum leaks from Namjoon's tip, heady on your tongue, and his thighs quake as he moans loud and eagerly against you, urging you to suck and stroke as purposefully as you can.

"God damn," Yoongi groans as he gives your ass a firm stinging smack, causing a muffled squeal from your throat. "I missed you two so fucking much."

Namjoon groans, "Gonna cum soon," against you.

"I want you both to cum at the same time," Yoongi instructs. Luckily for him, you are very close. 

It is almost comical the way you and Namjoon both suck and lick with a little more intention, eager to push the other over the edge. And it works. 

You feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward the precipice of bliss, and you are right on the edge when a wet finger rubs over your asshole with a hint of pressure. A squeal sputters from your lips, and you drool around Namjoon's throbbing cock. 

"Fuck," Namjoon attempts to warn, but there is no need. You can feel him pulsate against your lips, and you relax your mouth while stroking his shaft in anticipation. 

Namjoon's deep voice cracks as the first spurt of cum hits your tongue, and he muffles his voice against your clit and sucks hard enough to make the dam break once more. Orgasm rushes over you so intensely that you struggle to keep your head steady and end up with ropes of his warm release on your nose and lips. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi praises, pressing the tip of his finger deeper into your ass and intensifying every little sensation. 

"Fuck!" you scream, drool and cum dribbling down your chin. Yoongi fucks at the perfect angle to make you feel like you might squirt, and you attempt to warn Namjoon, but all you can get out is, "I'm gonna—oh fuck, I'm—"

Yoongi's grip is firm and his hips are punishing. Your body goes limp before it tenses once more and pleasure rushes from you, covering Namjoon. You think you hear deep moans and deeper praise, but your pulse is loud and heavy in your ears and all of reality seems to slip away from you. 

It is a mercy that Namjoon stops licking your pussy and slides back until you are straddling his chest. Little by little, your senses return, and Yoongi adjusts his position, anchoring one foot on the mattress as moans pour from his lips. 

You can hear Namjoon's mouth working Yoongi over, undoubtedly eating his ass, and you wish so badly that you could see it. But hearing it is enough, and you grip onto Namjoon's thighs for stability as Yoongi continues to fuck you at a punishing pace. 

Slowly, Namjoon begins to slide down the bed, out from under you, making you sit up and attempt to give him space. Yoongi very gently pulls you by the shoulders and forces you to stay sitting high on your knees while Namjoon repositions himself on his knees, facing you. His face and neck are drenched and his short dark hair is a wild mess. 

You weakly lift your hand to reach for him, beckoning him close. Namjoon smiles and knee-walks closer, taking you by the chin and rubbing a thumb over the cum that has begun to dry against your chin. "I see we both made a mess," he teases, and you nod as best as you can while moaning through Yoongi's deep, quick thrusts. 

"Fuck, I'm close," Yoongi grits between his teeth.

Namjoon licks his lips with a smirk. "Want you to cum in my mouth, baby," he instructs with his eyes on Yoongi but his lips closing in on yours. 

You lean ever so slightly forward and press your lips to Namjoon, moans and sobs falling with each quick exhale, some of which he swallows and some he merely licks around. Your tongue darts out weakly in an attempt to return Namjoon's sloppy kiss, but you struggle with each movement, hypnotized by pleasure. 

"Joon," Yoongi moans, hands gripping you tightly while he pulls his hips all the way back, pulling out and shifting his body to the side. 

You are held in place while Namjoon drops to his hands and leans forward. Although you turn your head to the left in an attempt to watch, all you see is Namjoon's head bobbing while Yoongi trembles and muffles his mouth against your shoulder. 

Yoongi moans and sobs and Namjoon groans, all the while you catch your breath, sitting in place until you are given instruction for what to do next; unsure whether you could control your body if you tried. 

The room quiets and Yoongi leans a little further into his hold on you before sitting back, causing you both to fall onto your butts against the mattress. When Namjoon returns, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a slow, deep kiss, his tongue is coated in Yoongi's release, and you lean into it and savor him. 

"More?" Namjoon asks against your lips.

You feel exhausted, but you definitely want more of these two. Anything they have in mind. 

"I wanna fuck Yoongi. How does that sound to you, sweetheart?"

It sounds amazing. "I want to watch you fuck Yoongi."

Namjoon sits back with a grin and nods, then he pats the bed off to the side from where you sit and says, "Come right here, baby. You can watch me stretch him."

It takes a moment for Yoongi to release you, and as soon as you crawl to your spot in the center of the bed, all the sweat and cum begins to turn cold, and you settle with your legs pretzeled and reach for the comforter to drape over your shoulders. 

Namjoon crawls past you to the small table on Yoongi's side of the bed while he instructs Yoongi to get on his hands and knees and crawl just enough that his ass is in view—perky and soft. He settles on his elbows with his forehead pressed into the mattress, and Namjoon opens a drawer and closes it, then returns with a clear half-empty bottle of lube. 

With a chance to settle and catch your breath, you are eager for more. But first, you want to watch Namjoon pull Yoongi apart. You have no idea where you may come into this equation, but you are unconcerned; they will make space for you. 

Namjoon sits behind Yoongi, takes his ass in both hands—dropping the bottle of lube to the mattress—and leans forward to lick over his rim, groaning and devouring him the way he devours you. Yoongi moans into the sheets, reaching for the bunched up comforter and squeezing it in his fist and you feel hypnotized watching Namjoon's tongue lap over him in firm, broad strokes. 

The vision is sinful, stirring arousal deep as you watch as Namjoon's hands squeeze and smack, making Yoongi moan and shake with each movement. Then you watch as Namjoon slicks up his fingers and buries them deep inside Yoongi one at a time. 

You wonder what it feels like to finger Yoongi and you get onto your hands and knees and crawl close, shivering as the comforter falls away, leaving you bare. Three of Namjoon's fingers disappear inside him, and you sit close on your knees, watching intently while reaching first to cup and squeeze at his soft ass and thighs, and then to tease the stretched skin of his stuffed rim with your fingertips. 

"Can I?" you ask, rubbing a finger between two of Namjoon's to slick the tip with lube and gently prod. 

Namjoon twists his hand and pulls nearly all the way out, pointing his knuckles downward and giving you an opening in between his fingers that are in almost a v-shape. You lean close and dribble spit onto his fingers, and then you slide your pointer to fit snug with his and slowly join him in stretching Yoongi wide.

"Oh my god," Namjoon groans as Yoongi trembles and sobs. He feels warm, tight, and soft, and you do your best to match Namjoon's pace pulling out and back in, out and back in. 

You ask, "You like the way we feel, kitten?" as you reach with your free hand to gather the precum on Namjoon's hard, neglected cock and give it a stroke that matches in pace. 

Both men moan and you pull your gaze from Yoongi's greedy ass to look at Namjoon who stares at you with a hunger that only excites you more. You bite your lip and give him your widest, cutest fuck-me-eyes and giggle when his expression morphs from pleasure. 

"You are so fucking sexy," Namjoon groans as he pulls your fingers out completely and takes your hand to lift it to your mouth. "Taste him," he commands, and you obey, lifting your finger to your lips and darting out the tip of your tongue.

Yoongi is heady and tangy-sweet, but his delicate natural flavor is masked too much by the artificially sweet lube. Still, you suck your finger into your mouth while holding eye contact with Namjoon, then you place your palm onto the bed and lean toward Yoongi, eager to taste him a little more. 

You feel a bit shy as you drag your tongue over his rim, but the way he moans and clenches around nothing urges you to do more. Namjoon slowly crawls forward, dick still trapped in your hand, and you spin your tongue over Yoongi, letting drool gather and drip to make him nice and sloppy. 

Namjoon settles with his cock so close to your mouth that you turn and take the tip, sucking in your cheeks just hard enough to make him whine before turning back to Yoongi to lick and tease. You can tell by the quick huffs and sounds Namjoon produces that he is growing impatient, and you continue to alternate sucking and licking until you feel satisfied with how worked up they both become. 

With one hand, you search for the bottle of lube while the other strokes Namjoon against your tongue, which is held out flat and drooling. Then you give his tip one last suck and sit back, popping open the bottle and squirting a generous amount of the sticky liquid onto your palm. 

You warm the lube in both hands and then smear some on Namjoon and some on Yoongi, dipping the tips of your fingers inside him to get him nice and ready, grinning when he trembles and sobs. And you stay on your hands and knees and rest your cheek against Yoongi's hip, spreading his cheeks wide and staring up at Namjoon as he shifts forward and lines the two of them up. 

Namjoon towers over the two of you like a god and you hold eye contact as he slowly begins to press his cock inside. Yoongi quakes and gasps, and you lift your head up just enough to watch as Namjoon carves him open. 

"Wow," you mutter, mesmerized by the sight of Yoongi's tight, perky ass swallowing a cock so big. 

With a deep groan, Namjoon asks, "Like what you see, baby?" 

You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod, responding, "Yes, daddy," in the cutest voice you can muster. Then you sit up on your knees and begin to crawl to Yoongi's head. 

Namjoon begins to fuck Yoongi hard and fast, punching sharp breaths from him and making his voice break. You sit on your knees in front of Yoongi and take a handful of his soft, sweaty hair, then you lift his face out of the blankets and force him to look at you. 

The scar takes you by surprise, making your stomach churn, but you quickly notice the rest of his fucked out, reddened face, and you lift your other hand to slot two lube-sticky fingers into his mouth giving him something to suck on. 

Yoongi sputters and sobs, lips gripping tightly to your fingers while his eyelids flutter, barely open. You very gently say, "Eyes on me, baby," and delight when he opens them wide. 

"Do you like how daddy fucks you?" you ask, giving his hair a gentle lift, causing his eyes to momentarily roll back before he focuses them on you. 

He attempts to say, "Yes, baby," but the words jumble cutely around your fingers.  

A loud smack makes Yoongi squeal, spit sputtering from his lips, and you glance up at Namjoon who stares down at you with a crooked grin. "I have an idea," he says, and you lift your eyebrows and cock your head.

"An idea?"

Namjoon hums. 

"And what is that, daddy?"

With a deep groan, Namjoon slowly pulls out, causing Yoongi's face to screw up with pleasure and then impatience. You keep your fingers nestled between his doll lips, watching as he breathes deeply through his nose, then you turn your attention back to Namjoon. 

"Yoongi baby, lay down on your back."

You slide your fingers from Yoongi's mouth and sit back, watching him flop down to the mattress and roll onto his back. Namjoon grabs his hips roughly and yanks him closer, spreading his legs wide. He wastes no time sliding his dick back inside, saying, "Now you sit on his face."

"Oooh, yes, daddy," you say excitedly, crawling over Yoongi's face. His cock slaps against his tummy, leaking precum, and you settle against him and waste no time reaching for it, eager to suck. 

Yoongi grabs onto your hips and wastes no time licking your pussy, surprising you with his sudden burst of energy as he reaches with one hand to finger you while squeezing your ass in the other. You attempt to moan as you swallow his length, sucking eagerly the moment a mix of his and your fluids grace your taste buds. 

You keep your eyes open to watch Namjoon's cock disappear inside him, and you make loud, needy sounds with the hope of urging one of them to cum again. This time, you want to be the one to swallow. 

Only Namjoon has other plans.

"On second thought, you should sit on his dick, baby."

You suck in your cheeks nice and hard one last time, then open your mouth wide to let all the drool that has collected on your tongue drip down his length. When you begin to sit up and move away from Yoongi's face and hands, he whines and attempts feebly to keep you in place before giving up and letting you go. 

Without anything obstructing his mouth, Yoongi's moans are loud and raspy; music to your ears. You turn around and straddle his waist, then reach between your legs and grab onto his length. 

With one pump of your hand, you line him up and slide yourself down, back bowing from pleasure and causing your head to gently bump into Namjoon's shoulder while you and Yoongi moan in tandem—his trembling from his lips at the rhythm of Namjoon's hips and yours falling short at the end. 

Namjoon wraps his arms around you, holding you in place against him while he fucks Yoongi—one hand slides to your throat and the other grabs onto one of your breasts—and you swish and circle your hips, burying Yoongi deep inside you and reaching spots that make your eyes roll back. 

Pleasure with these two feels like something out of a dream. Yoongi reaches with a slickened thumb and twists it over your clit, and you grind harder, matching Namjoon's rhythm and chasing your next high. You have no idea where you end and where one of them begins, and the sounds the room fills with—the moaning and sobbing; skin against skin—is absolutely hypnotic.

You cum without warning and scream, back arched and eyes wide to the tall ceiling. Namjoon fucks Yoongi hard enough that you barely have to move, body jerking uselessly while your senses tingle and dull once more and you fight your body to stay upright, thankful that you are held in place. 

"Look at him," Namjoon instructs, and you slowly drop your gaze to Yoongi, who lays with one hand high above his head gripping to the comforter and the other reaching for you. His eyes are closed and his mouth is agape, lips trembling around unvoiced sounds. With his dark hair fanning wildly against the bed and his skin slick with sweat, he is breathtaking. 

"F-fuck," he mutters, eyes opening only to roll back again. "I'm gonna— oh my god."

"Cum for us, pretty Yoongi," Namjoon says, hips never losing their steady pace. 

Yoongi moves his lips as if to respond to Namjoon but he appears too lost in pleasure to form words. You swish your hips and squeeze your pussy around him, pleased with yourself when his back bows and he begins to sob.

"What a fucking sight," Namjoon groans and you nod, unable to take your eyes off Yoongi as he squirms and pants, reaching his high. 

Without warning, Yoongi cums, filling you with his warm release while he gasps and continues attempting to form words that never make it past his pretty lips. Namjoon picks up his pace, cursing under his breath as he rattles and shakes Yoongi into a trance with his mouth and eyes wide.

Somewhat frantically, Namjoon gropes your breasts and tummy, squeezing as he huffs and moans against your shoulder, sucking harshly against your skin. He quakes and then freezes momentarily, moaning warm, moist breath into your neck. Then his hips rock in and out and in before he pulls all the way out with a groan. 

"On your back," he commands through an airy tone, and you do as you are told, not sure how he plans to continue going considering all three of you are fucked past the point of exhaustion. 

You hobble off of Yoongi and throw yourself down onto the bed, barely able to adjust before Namjoon has your legs spread wide and his face buried between them. He slurps at your dripping pussy, tongue pressing as far into you as it can, causing you to quake from overstimulation and pleasure as he laps up various fluids inside you. 

And then he breaks away and falls into a seated position and then further back onto his elbows, tilting his head to the ceiling and panting heavily. Your feet slide against the bed and you relax in a heap, instantly turning cold as the sweat settles on your skin.

"Bath," Namjoon mutters, and you nod in return. 

Yoongi grumbles incoherently and you cannot help but giggle.

"Fucked him stupid," you say, staring up at the ceiling and smiling as Namjoon begins to laugh.

After a bubble bath the three of you go to sleep, and you do not dream at all. Endless darkness holds you in its embrace. You sleep until an early hour of the morning, only to wake up and tiptoe to the bathroom, then return to sleep some more. 

You feel rested and happy when you fully rise several hours later, and a little shy when you find the room has been covered in vases full of roses and wildflowers of various colors. 

It has been years since you have celebrated your birthday.

Yoongi and Namjoon dote on you from the moment you wake up until it is time to get ready for your party, bringing you pancakes and mimosas in bed and taking you for a spin in your brand new car to get manicures and pedicures together. You allow them to insist on having your nails painted white with gold french tips, and you delight in how ticklish both their feet are as the poor technicians pamper them. 

Namjoon drives around the city until you find an ice cream stand along the river, and wearing average casual attire with masks covering your faces and baseball hats worn low over your faces, you almost feel like normal people doing normal everyday things—despite the security detail that stays ten feet behind you at all times.

And you capture everything. The flowers, the nails, the ice cream—everything is photographed and added to a folder to be uploaded to Instagram once you return home. Being that you are a semi-public figure, you worry that if news got out about your birthday and you did not post, people might start whispering. 

Yoongi takes a scenic route back to the mansion, holding your hand while he handles your sports car with ease, and you allow yourself to bask in an absolutely perfect day, thinking about how nice it would be if the three of you could exist this simply all the time. 

When you return home, the men kiss you and tell you to wait in your room while they get dressed for your party. Yoongi informs you that you have time to shower if you would like, and Namjoon says he cannot wait to see you all dolled up later. 

You do not feel the need to shower, so you strip down to a little black thong and find a black silk robe to lay around in, holding your hands up high to inspect your manicure and kicking your feet as you smile to yourself. Then you imagine how the giant engagement ring would look shimmering on your finger, and you hold your hands close to your heart.

In the quiet moment all to yourself, you drift in and out of sleep, unsure what to expect from the evening. And although you feel groggy when there is a light knock at your door, you sit up with a start and prance over quickly to greet your guest. 

With Jimin absent, a soft-spoken woman with long, dark brown hair and foxlike eyes named Yeji bows in your doorway. She is dressed like the family men in a black button-up tucked into black slacks, and carries a charcoal grey garment bag draped over her arm and a large black makeup case in her hand. 

You lean-sit against the edge of your bed, suddenly feeling a bit bare in your silk robe while she sets the case down and begins to unzip the garment bag and pull your gown free. To your surprise, the dress is off-white and all you can think about is how much it reminds you of a wedding dress.  

Yeji hands you the gown and turns her back to you as you stand, shed the robe, and begin to delicately step into the garment. You are going to need to swap your black thong for a white one, but otherwise it is perfect.

The top gathers in a halter over your chest, wrapping in a circle around your neck and leaving your back bare. Gold embroidery accentuates the neck and waist, and the skirt flows in layers of chiffon with high slits up the both sides, making you feel like a Greek goddess.

Yeji produces several blue Tiffany boxes and opens all but one of them. She adds beautiful gold bracelets with delicate diamond encrusted vines to your wrists and a matching gold and diamond vine ring to your right hand. Then she recommends several pairs of gold strappy shoes and offers a pair of gold ballet flats for later in the evening, smiling shyly the entire time. 

Your hair is pulled and twisted from your head and your makeup is minimal—hints of black with a dusting of gold on your lids and gold highlights on your cheeks. You assume there must be earrings in the final Tiffany box, but she leaves it untouched and gently lifts her fingers to your chin, urging you to straighten your posture as she scrutinizes your appearance with a soft smile.

"You look like a princess," she says, blushing and averting her eyes as you stand before your vanity and dance your fingertips over the skirt. 

You feel like a princess, and you smile widely as you say, "Thank you, Yeji."

A familiar knock on the door kicks your pulse into high gear and you hold your breath as Yoongi walks in wearing all white. A ruched, tunic-style linen dress shirt with long fluted sleeves hangs somewhat loosely but fitted in a way that shows off his broad shoulders and firm muscle. He wears fitted white slacks, gold necklaces, and his hair is styled in beautiful waves around his face. 

But what really takes your breath away is that for the first time since the accident, both of Yoongi's eyes are wide open and his stitches have been removed. A deep, pinkish-red gash greets you, making Yoongi's fierce dark brown eyes seem even more menacing; a fitting scar for a man in his position.

Your heart sinks at the sight but it also stirs something inside you. Somehow, the scar makes Yoongi even more attractive—a thought that you will need to unpack some other time. 

"Wow," you say, ripping your tear-filled gaze away from Yoongi's face and studying his outfit once more. "You look amazing."

For once, Yoongi is speechless and it makes you feel somewhat antsy. Rather than respond, his eyes continue to take in your outfit and his silence feels maddening. Is he also thinking about how much this gown looks fit for a bride? Is that why he looks at you this way? Luckily Namjoon appears and breaks the tension.

Also outfitted in all white, Namjoon wears a dress shirt tucked into fitted slacks and a white leather belt. His jacket has gold and clear gems embroidered in decorative bursts on the left shoulder and right breast, and gold gems line the wrists of his sleeves. His short dark hair is styled back from his forehead, and he wears dainty gold chains and bracelets, and small gold hoop earrings.  

"Sweetheart," Namjoon mutters as he steps up behind Yoongi and rests his chin on his shoulder. "You look…"

"Incredible," Yoongi finally says, eyes wide and teary with his arms straight down to his sides. 

"Just missing a couple more things," Namjoon says with a smile that dimples his cheeks as he turns to the vanity and grabs the final blue box. "While we were in Paris, Jimin and I went shopping for all of this jewelry. Do you like it?"

You lift your hands and inspect the vines that grace your wrists and finger, and you feel your eyes well with tears thinking about Jimin and the Paris trip that changed everything in more ways than one.

Your voice is soft and laced with emotion as you say, "I love it."

"I was particularly fond of these," Namjoon says, pulling your attention with the sound of the last box opening, "and we crafted the rest of tonight's theme around them."

Diamond encrusted gold earrings in the shape of vines shimmer from the soft blue box, and Namjoon lifts them for you to see. 

"May I?" he asks, and you nod emphatically, tipping your chin to give him access. He gives you the box, which you take in shaky hands, and then he delicately adorns each of your ears, warm nimble fingers working swiftly, giving you shivers as they brush against your skin. 

You glance into the mirror then take a step forward to get a view of your reflection. It appears as if the dainty vines climb up your lobes and they are absolutely stunning. The thought of Namjoon picking out the jewelry makes your heart swell with affection, and when you glance back at him and Yoongi, they watch you with reverence.

"Thank you," you say, eyes roving between the two of them. "This is too much, really."

"Nonsense," Yoongi responds, "you deserve the world. And Namjoon and I intend to give it to you."

Suddenly you feel shy and you lift your hands to cover your face, doing your best to hold back tears. You know in your heart that these men mean it when they say such ridiculous things. And you love them so deeply for it, even if the prospect terrifies you.

Your left hand is gently tugged away from your face, and before you can inspect who is responsible, you feel the cool kiss of gold on your ring finger, followed by the weight of the diamond it holds. Your heart pounds harder, and you continue to swallow back the urge to cry. 

"Shall we?" Yoongi asks, letting go of your hand and revealing a gold and diamond Rolex hiding under his long sleeve. "The party has begun but I thought we should be fashionably late."

Namjoon holds you in place as Yoongi helps you step into gold strappy heels, then he drapes a white fur evening jacket over your shoulders that barely covers your torso. Hoseok is in the driveway sitting behind the wheel of a red stretch limo sedan, and you shake your head at the emissions a beast like this must give off as you approach. 

The door opens from the inside and Jeongguk’s smiling face greets you. Taehyung is in the seat beside him and they are dressed in white fitted tuxedos and gold bow ties. 

“Dollface,” Jeongguk beams, taking your right hand while Namjoon steadies your left arm and you hoist yourself into the vehicle. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you laugh as you get seated facing the partition behind the front seats. Jeongguk and Taehyung have their backs facing the partition, creating a large square shaped space littered with gold confetti and buckets containing iced bottles of champagne. 

“How is our honorary buttercup?” Taehyung asks as he pops a bottle open. Yoongi enters to your left while Namjoon gets settled on your right. 

“A little overwhelmed,” you mutter while Taehyung pours a flute that Jeongguk holds onto before handing it off to you. 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, darling, but the night is young."

You turn to Yoongi and lift your brow. From behind the black partition, Hoseok begins to leave the driveway as you ask, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Jeongguk pipes up, "Means you're gonna be overwhelmed as fuck when we get to Dionysus."

Everyone laughs and you join in, only somewhat showing your unease. The cold, bittersweet champagne helps calm your nerves, but it is difficult to feel settled when four pairs of eyes pierce into you—even Taehyung stares more openly than usual. 

You are tipsy by the time Hoseok reaches the city, and you silently pep talk yourself as the vehicle pulls up to a tall marble building with a red carpet outside. To your surprise there is a crowd waiting.  

Namjoon gets out first and steps aside, offering you his hand, and cameras flash in your eyes as you take it and slowly climb to the rug below, attempting not to stumble and struggling to lift your eyes. Although there is a stir from your presence, people begin to clap and cheer when they see Yoongi. 

You cannot fathom who any of these people are, nor can you imagine so many strangers so openly recognizing him. Are all of them somehow involved in the syndicate, as well? Does Yoongi have another reputation that you are unaware of?

The unmistakable whispers and murmurs begin about his scar, about your dress. Once Yoongi is by your side, crooking your arm into his elbow, Namjoon gets back into the stretch sedan and Hoseok drives off, leaving the two of you to make an entrance. 

You keep your eyes ahead, too shy to look at the crowd, and you walk under a large white and gold awning that stretches from the sidewalk to the large glass doors. Camera flashes threaten to temporarily blind but nobody stands in your way, and when you enter the hotel, everyone follows behind. 

Large gold and crystal chandeliers brighten the massive hotel lobby, and the red carpet stretches through the space, stopping at a set of gold elevator doors. You glance around at the light marble, white furnishings, and confused hotel guests littered throughout, noticing several armed guards stationed around the space dressed in white with gold bow ties, similar to your friends.

"What is this place?" you ask with wide eyes. 

"This is the hotel that I sold to lady Choi, the woman who was friends with my mother," Yoongi mutters close to your ear while you walk ahead, eyes dancing over the marble and gold, appreciating the extravagance. "What did Hyungseo refer to it as? One of my less flashy hotels?"

You remember the night in front of Paradise when Hyungseo taunted Yoongi—the night Jimin was shot. If this is what she refers to as less flashy, what do Yoongi's other hotels look like? Surely, she was just trying to rile Yoongi up, and you can see why it may not have worked. 

Yoongi leads you through the lobby to a gold elevator, and you are not in the least bit surprised when it takes you to the uppermost floor. You are surprised, however, when the doors slide open and the scene before you is somehow more decadent than the one you left. 

"This," Yoongi says magnanimously, "is Dionysus."

The tall walls and high arching ceilings are made of white iron and glass, allowing the glow of the moon and light pollution to add to the ambiance. Large arches of elegantly designed iron spandrels and ornate columns draw the eye to a second floor mezzanine that wraps around the space where guests stand with drinks, some dancing along to the music that sounds modern and downtempo but unidentifiable to your untrained ear. 

The floors are ash grey hardwood, and the furnishings are white and gold with the exception of  a massive oval-shaped bar made of dark hardwood in the center of the space. Tracking lights hanging from the grandiose ceiling assist delicate white and gold sconces that are placed throughout to brighten the space. 

"For obvious reasons, we chose to move your party," Yoongi informs as you step forward, gaze landing on more people you do not recognize than those you do. Changkyun and the rest of the members of the security team wear white tuxedos with gold bow ties, as well. Other guests are dressed in an array of colors, but it appears that nobody else wears white. 

An attendant approaches to take your jacket and you bow your head at him, shivering from the lack of warmth as Yoongi continues. "We renovated Paradise for this occasion, but I felt that having the party there might be too painful for all of us. Of course, a larger venue called for a larger crowd."

You hum in response, still taking in your surroundings, undoubtedly with your mouth hanging wide open. "Wow," you finally mutter, lips moving like a fish out of water as you struggle to find the words to describe the way you feel.

Dionysus is massive, and the lengths staff members must have gone to in order to decorate for your party do not go unnoticed. Gold streamers and green vines entwine, snaking up columns and along the edge of the mezzanine and bar, and gold balloons are placed throughout accentuating corners, tables, and various other points, along with piles of gold disco balls scattered around shimmering with reflected light. 

The staff wear gold leather and latex. Clothing is scarce, barely covering them, and they are painted from head to toe in gold glitter as if carved from the shimmering alloy, carrying intricately carved golden trays of food and drink. 

"Are you pleased?" Yoongi asks. 

You nod emphatically and turn to Yoongi with tears forming, forcing yourself to look into his eyes and not stare at the reddened slash that cuts over one of them. Although the sight makes your stomach momentarily ache, you are undeniably happy. 

"Yes," you say, taking a step forward and placing your palms over Yoongi's chest. The giant rock on your left hand shimmers in the bright light of the venue, sending a pang of uncertainty and worry to your gut that is only somewhat masked by your joy.

"Let's get you a drink," Yoongi says, gently grabbing your wrists before spinning around and linking your right hand in his left while tugging you toward the bar. 

A nearby server carries a gold platter of champagne flutes, and when Yoongi reaches for one and hands it to you, there are even gold flakes floating around inside. Ridiculous, you think to yourself, but also very thoughtful.

One sip of the champagne takes you by surprise; it is light and sweet, different from what you are used to. And, to your delight, the gold flakes seem to have no flavor. 

"Ah, here they are," Yoongi announces, and when you look up, the other five family men—dressed in the same white and gold attire—are approaching, holding matte black gifts of various shapes and sizes.

"Oh, no," you mutter to yourself, feeling your cheeks become hot. "This party is already enough."

"Nonsense, darling," Yoongi whispers close to your ear, voice deep and inviting. 

The music changes and suddenly the entire room is singing happy birthday. You feel embarrassed enough to hide behind your hands, but Yoongi gently takes your champagne flute and sets it aside, then tugs your wrists downward, forcing you to watch as the family men approach with their gifts.

"I thought the switchblade was my present," you tease, looking between Jeongguk and Taehyung the moment the song stops. Of course, since that fateful night, you have not moved the switchblade from where it sits in its case atop your bedside table in Yoongi's bedroom.

"Well, since you must announce the elephant in the room," Taehyung teases, holding out a rectangular box about five inches long and two inches tall, "we worried that you may hold some animosity toward that weapon and decided to gift you another option."

Another weapon, he means. You already know from the size and weight of this box that Taehyung is gifting you a handgun. Still, you tear at the matte black gift wrap and pretend to be surprised as you reveal a black velvet box containing a subcompact Glock. 

You do gasp, however, when you notice the beautifully carved flowers and vines along the handle of the gun, and you feel somewhat emotional when you look back at Taehyung and say, "Wow, this is beautiful."

"We have a variety of holsters that you can choose from," Taehyung says with a proud smile. "Come by anytime to rummage through our collection."

"Alright," you respond as you turn to hand the gun off to Yoongi. Staff seem to have carried over a round high marble-topped table and he sets the box in the center.

Next is Hoseok, who gives you a stunning Tiffany statement necklace that is shaped like a gold scorpion tail, and Seokjin gives you a dainty gold Rolex watch with a mother of pearl face.

Jeongguk steps forward and hands you a box that contains a little metal cocaine vial and you laugh so loud, your voice echoes through the large venue. "I have one more for you," he mutters quietly, "but it would be inappropriate for you to open it here, so you'll have to come by my place some time soon."

Namjoon kisses your forehead with a smile, making your cheeks warm at the thought of the crowd noticing as he says, "The rest of my gifts are at the mansion." 

You shake your head, knowing that all of the jewelry you wear is from him, muttering, "You've already done too much."

But then he hands you a small gift box and says, "This one is from Jimin."

Suddenly your heart feels heavy, and you accept the box with a tremble in your hands. You rip at the matte black paper but your hands shake so hard that you have to turn and set the box onto the table just to open it. 

You expect more jewelry to greet you and it takes a split moment to process what you are looking at. In a small pile against black velvet is a gold keyring containing three keys and a golden dove charm. You lift the keys to inspect them, finding each one inscribed with one word: Paradise, Studio, and Home.

Tears well and you drop the keys back into the box, cursing the universe for being so unfair. Jimin has given you sanctuary in so many ways and you are unable to thank him. 

Shaking your head in an attempt not to cry, you are hit with a dizzy spell, but in an instant, arms are around you on three sides, pulling you into a soft shield of material and warmth. You keep your head tilted upward, worried about staining anyone's white jacket, then take in a deep unsteady breath. 

All you can think about is how happy Jimin had been for your approaching birthday—how excited he seemed about your gift. Although you just visited with him yesterday, you miss him now more than ever.

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jeongguk take a step back, and you smile, wiping the tears from your face and gently as you can, worried about smearing your makeup. 

"Thank you," you say weakly, causing the room to erupt with cheers and clapping, reminding you that you are surrounded by strangers. 

Another table has appeared while you were not paying attention, and one after another, strangers bring gift bags. You are informed by a member of the security team that each gift has been carefully inspected, but you feel too embarrassed to watch as guests come and go, bowing and muttering words of thanks without looking anyone in the eye, and turning instead toward the bar. 

Yoongi sidles up to your right and turns you gently by the shoulders to face him, rubbing his thumbs beneath your eyes. To your left, Namjoon orders seven glasses of neat whiskey. 

Guests come by to wish you a happy birthday as you wait for your drink, and you thank them politely and glance around the space looking for somewhere to go to have some privacy. When Namjoon finally hands you a glass, you waste no time gulping down some of the rich liquid. 

"Do these people know who I am?" you ask into your drink while smiling and waving to strangers who greet you from a distance. 

"In theory, yes," Yoongi responds, placing a hand on your elbow and leading you past dancing bodies to the far side of the space. "They know who I am, and they know about the ring you wear."

"They're treating me like I'm the queen of England," you complain, slamming back the rest of your drink.

Yoongi's voice gives you chills as he leans close to say, "That's because you're the queen of Seoul, my love."

Ahead, under the mezzanine and past a group of partygoers, is a black curtain hidden somewhat inconspicuously with Changbin clad in white and gold standing guard with a wide smile.  Changbin greets you with a warm hug while Yoongi pushes the curtain aside revealing a door through which you quickly walk, finding a carpeted storage room full of cardboard boxes and stacked tables and chairs. 

"Thank god," you grumble, turning to Yoongi to begin searching his pockets for his cocaine; yours is out on the gift table. "This is a lot more overwhelming than I expected."

"We could find another way to overwhelm you, if you'd like," Yoongi offers with a grin, leaning his forehead against yours as you unscrew you the vial and lift piles of white powder to one nostril after the other.

You inhale harshly and rub a knuckle against your nose, asking, "We?"

Seconds pass before the door opens and in walks Namjoon and Jeongguk. 

"We," Yoongi finally responds, lips tugging into a devious smile. The cocaine shimmers through you and you waste no time taking him up on his gracious offer. 

"Yeah, okay," you say, grabbing a chair and sitting with your legs spread wide, bare from the high slits in the skirt that make it fall open on each side and between your thighs. "Do your worst, gentlemen."

The three of them drop to their knees, Jeongguk crawling forward first, hands rubbing over your calves, up to your thighs. "I should be quick and get back out there," he says, wasting no time lifting the skirt flap that covers you and burying himself beneath. 

He makes a mess of your panties, nipping and sucking over the mesh, driving you wild with anticipation long enough to make you begin whimpering, "Please, Gguk. Please stop teasing me."

Jeongguk yanks your panties to the side and devours you, lips and tongue dancing a familiar, glorious dance over your clit, making you sink in the hard wooden chair while doing your best not to let your hair touch anything. Although you are sure nobody on the other side of the door can hear you, you muffle your voice with the back of your hand and use the other to grip Jeongguk's head as best as you can with layers of fabric in the way. 

It takes very little time for Jeongguk to make you cum, back arching off the chair and hands falling to your sides to grip its wooden edges to keep you from sliding to the floor. Jeongguk appears from under your skirt, face flushed and hair tousled, wiping your release from his lips and chin with a dopey smile. 

"Bathroom is to the right when you exit," Namjoon teases as he begins to use his fingers to fix Jeongguk's hair. Jeongguk stays for a moment longer on his knees, searching your face as if he has something he wants to say before finally getting to his feet, leaning close, and pressing a heady kiss to your lips.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," he mutters, though his eyes say a lot more. 

"Thank you," you respond meekly, struggling to hold his soft, caring gaze. Your mind echoes, Do you think you could fall for someone like me? And once again you think that you could.

As soon as Jeongguk turns to leave, Namjoon lifts the center flap of your skirt and tosses it over your hips, revealing your cunt, which feels cold behind wet mesh. Yoongi spreads you further as he crawls beside Namjoon, and the two of them take turns using their hands and mouths to slowly pull each thread of sanity from you. 

You cum twice more and the two of them keep going, ignoring your pleas for mercy, teasing as they say, "I can't take anymore isn't your safeword, baby."

"Too bad we can't make a real mess of you," Namjoon complains as he nips against your thigh and keeps the thrusting of his fingers to shallow movements. 

"Tonight," Yoongi insists, and you nod robotically, feeling too fucked out to do anything but let pleasure overwhelm you, just as Yoongi promised it would.

Your legs may as well be cooked al dente by the time they finish and you stand in an attempt to straighten yourself out. Spit and cum cause your panties to stick uncomfortably but you feel too blissed out to care. 

Namjoon goes ahead, placing a soft kiss against Yoongi's lips and then yours, and Yoongi delicately does his best to clear away any makeup that has smudged beneath your eyes. He kisses you deeply, moaning in tandem as you melt against him and taste yourself on his lips, and you think to yourself that this night is nearly close to perfect.

"I have one more thing," he says, and when you meet his gaze, it is soft and a little worried. "I hope you don't mind how unromantic this room is…I just can't bear to wait any longer."

You continue to catch your breath after the orgasmic ringer those three put you through, and when Yoongi reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue box, your brain screeches to a halt before attempting to make sense of what you are seeing. 

Yoongi holds up the box and says, "I just want you to know that when you feel ready, this one is the deal," but the words do not compute. That is, until he opens it.

Nestled in blue velvet is a platinum band adorned with three diamonds. Although the center stone is much smaller than the ring you wear, there are two pear-shaped stones on each side. Tears cloud your vision and the sound of your pounding heart is deafening. 

"Namjoon helped me pick it out," Yoongi continues as if you are not in total physical distress, falling apart with each second that passes. 

Your next breath heaves from your lungs and you feel your knees threaten to buckle. Is Yoongi actually proposing to you on your birthday, tucked away from everyone else? A promise for when you are ready to receive it is still a promise that is spoken in real time, and the weight of it is crushing. 

"Darling?" Yoongi tries, but his voice feels distant and you stumble backward, feeling as if you might faint. 

Yoongi is quick to catch you by the elbows and sit you back down on the chair. "Darling, are you alright?" he asks, but you feel too sluggish to respond, heavy-blinking but unable to focus on him. 

Yoongi takes out his phone and thumbs around. "Taehyung," he says, voice laced with worry. "Come to the storage room quickly."

Although you want to shake your head and insist that everything is fine, you are not sure you can do that much. Time and space elude you, your ears ring a high, terrible pitch, and you squeeze your eyes closed, only opening them when a cold compress touches your forehead, zapping you into the present.

"There you are," Taehyung responds, gently rubbing his knuckles along your cheek. "We lost ya for a bit."

Your skin is cold and clammy, and you shiver, wishing you had your jacket. To your surprise, Yeji is at your side with a stoic expression, and she opens her black makeup case. 

"Sorry," you mutter, dizzy and uncertain of what just happened. Yoongi and Namjoon stand behind Taehyung watching you with concerned expressions, and you begin to worry about how long you have been away from the party. 

"You didn't miss much," Taehyung says as if reading your mind. He lifts a small flashlight to your eyes from the side like he did the night he checked you for a concussion. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," you admit with a sigh. "Hungry."

Taehyung hums and nods, saying, "Once she touches you up, come back out to the main hall. I'll tell them to bring out the cake."

Cake sounds incredible and you nod, mouthing, "Thank you," with barely a sound coming out. 

Yeji touches you up quickly, blotting away sweat and applying a little makeup before bowing and taking her leave. And when you stand, you feel much steadier on your feet, albeit a bit jittery. 

When it is just Yoongi and Namjoon left in the room, the two of them kiss before Namjoon kisses your forehead and leaves. Yoongi swallows thickly and watches you as if he is waiting for you to speak first, so you do, voice trembling and weak.

"That wasn't a reaction to the ring," you lie. It may have been, but you do not want to face that possibility at the moment. "I don't know what came over me. Sorry, baby."

With a nod and an uncertain smile, Yoongi takes your hand in his and tugs you to the door, out into the small dark space and past the black velvet curtain. And in an instant, you remember that you are completely surrounded with strangers and that you need to keep your cool and stay on your feet. 

As soon as the two of you walk out into the main hall, staff members cart out a massive cake while more of them carry bottles of champagne crackling with sparklers. The room erupts into shouting and clapping and you feel yourself go hot under everyone's stares, wondering whether anyone is speculating on what happened while you were away. 

You eat a slice of decadent strawberry jam cake, and once you feel better, you drink and dance and drink some more, doing your best to push out all thoughts of that ring. Felix even joins you, spinning you around and laughing like old friends. Euphoria kicks in with the family men around, and you find it easy to return to the feeling of joy, eager to face everything else in the morning. 

By the time you return to the mansion, you are stumbling from your feet aching but also from all the champagne and whiskey. Namjoon carries you from the stretch sedan to the front door and Yoongi peels away your strappy shoes before taking you into his arms so that a drunk, clumsy Namjoon can get out of his shoes. The three of you make your way upstairs and you bury your face into Yoongi's neck as you ascend. 

"We still have more gifts," he mutters and you sigh happily, insisting, "Tomorrow."

"Would you like to sleep now?" Namjoon asks. "Or shower first?"

Although you know that you should clean your face, you are exhausted and whine to be taken to bed. Thankfully Yoongi carries you into the ensuite first and sets you onto the cold marble counter so that he and Namjoon can gently wash off your makeup, remove all of your jewelry, and encourage you to brush your teeth. 

They help you undress and step into warm joggers, pulling a soft black tee over your head. And the moment your head hits the pillow, you are out like a light. 

You are riddled with nightmares and toss and turn, struggling to stay asleep but too groggy to stay awake. 

In some, Yoongi's wound bleeds while you grip onto the dripping knife. In another, he and Namjoon have cast you aside and left you to fend on your own with nothing but the little black dress and combat boots that you wore into the mansion on the very first day they kidnapped you and brought you home against your will. 

They laugh and tease and make you feel foolish. Like a conquest and nothing more. Cheap, tossed aside, and all used up. 

But the dream that really shakes you to your core is one of Jimin's funeral. He lays in a glass casket wearing a gorgeous black lace gown and veil, face pale and lifeless as marble, and you sob uncontrollably, throwing yourself at the glass and begging for him to wake up. 

The funeral crowd erupts in cheers and laughter, and when you glance up, hundreds of the man who shot him surround you, holding out his smoking gun. You lift your gun and shoot, sending hundreds of the man to the floor with his brains leaking through his many foreheads. 

And then you wake up screaming. The room is empty with the exception of the many flower vases that surround you, and you feel dizzy as soon as you quickly sit up, grabbing for your pounding head.

Moments pass with nothing but your own sobs and you cry loud and horrific, clenching the black and gold comforter close to your chest with one fist, desperate to get the image of Jimin lying dead out of your mind. But it is no use; you can feel residual anguish leftover from the dream clawing its way into your heart for safe keeping.

Footsteps rush to the door and you hear Namjoon barrel forward, shouting, "Sweetheart, what is it?"

Unable to speak, you shake your head, but then a piercing pain around your temples and in the back near your neck halts your movement and you cringe and grab once more onto your head, leaning forward. 

You hear, "Darling," but Namjoon quickly says, "Get Taehyung!" and Yoongi's voice drifts away as he shouts for him. 

You wonder if they have been meeting in the main hall, and you thank your lucky stars that they are all there. Then you feel the urge to vomit, scrambling for something to get sick into before everything fades to black.

In a blink you are on your back, laying in bed with a cold wet compress against your head. The family psychiatrist Christopher is there and he and Taehyung are muttering about medication side effects as you blink them into focus and stretch your limbs. 

"Buttercup," Taehyung says softly as he approaches and leans close, feeling your forehead. "What do you say we take a trip to my examination room so I can have a look inside that pretty little head of yours, hmm?"

"Oh," you respond sluggishly, licking your dry lips and weakly nodding your head. You ask, "Did I faint again?"

With a frown, Taehyung says, "I'm afraid so."

Namjoon approaches with a hoodie and Taehyung helps you sit up. In the back of your head there is a sharp pain, and you feel nauseated the more you move. They slide one arm after the other into the sweater and then Namjoon sits on the edge of the bed with his back to you and tells you to climb up. 

It takes effort but you knee-walk to Namjoon and fling yourself over his shoulders. He stands slowly and adjusts your legs in his hold, and you bury your face against his neck while he carries you from the room, down to the main hall, and out the front door. 

You hear the voices of the other family men but none of them regard you, and for that you are thankful. The air is chilly and you hold tightly to Namjoon, listening to the familiar crunch of gravel and leaves underfoot while Yoongi and Taehyung chatter lowly behind you. Briefly, you think you may begin to fall asleep. 

The examination is not so bad, but the MRI makes you nervous. The whir of the machine is scary, and although your eyes are closed, you feel claustrophobic inside the enclosed space. After getting a good look at your brain, Taehyung checks your heart, draws blood, and leads you to a small bathroom where he asks you to pee in a cup. 

Then he asks you to meet him in an examination room where he will join you shortly, but you go to a different room instead. With a sigh pouring through a smile, Taehyung assists you with gently moving Jimin's arm, making space on his small bed, careful of all the wires and tubes.

You lay on Jimin's bed, head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart with your eyes closed against bright white fluorescent light. Namjoon and Yoongi sit on the other side of the bed with their heads leaned close, not speaking a word, and after you find yourself drifting off for a moment, Taehyung returns. 

"I can't determine a physical cause for your sudden bout of fainting spells," he says, which should be good news but not having an answer is also worrisome in its own right. "They began before you started taking your medication, so the best I can surmise is that it is not a side effect to that medication, and that it is likely caused by trauma and stress."

You hum, unsure what to say. Yoongi and Namjoon also say nothing. 

"Did you take your medication yesterday?"

Truthfully, you are unsure, but you are inclined to think that you may not have. Shaking your head softly against Jimin, you mutter, "I don't think so."

Taehyung hums. "I want you to be a little more mindful of your medication, alright? Lay off any drugs or alcohol for a little while, and eat on a regular schedule. We're going to monitor your heart rate and blood pressure regularly, too. Does that sound alright?"

"Alright," you respond automatically, attempting to let everything sink in. 

Trauma induced fainting is not something you want to deal with on top of everything else. And with Yoongi's most recent proposal of sorts, nausea kicks up and you begin to fear for the worst.

"Could be that you need a vacation," Taehyung continues, writing on a pad of paper as he speaks. "A lot has happened around these parts lately, and perhaps this is your body telling you to get away for a while."

Get away for a while. 

You know in your heart that getting away could be the only option. With your mental health deteriorating so fast, it is hard to imagine it won't get worse. 

But how much time away from the mansion is long enough? How much longer will you attempt to heal and move on from everything that has happened while surrounded by your stressors and waiting for the other shoe to drop?

The only solution is to get away entirely.

How will you break things off with Namjoon and Yoongi, especially after that gesture last night? Whereas the ring you have been wearing symbolizes a fake union, the ramifications of it have always been real. Real threat of danger; a real target on your back. 

Now, with the prospect of genuine engagement looming over your head, your fight or flight instincts have you feeling the strong, overbearing urge to run far away and never look back. Playing mafia wife is one thing but becoming a mafia wife is petrifying. 

How long will you be able to look Yoongi in the eye knowing that you gave him that scar? And if Jimin never wakes up, how long before you stop blaming yourself for his injuries? It is easy for Yoongi to assure you that he does not hold anything against you now, but how do you know that won't change? 

And if you are at the heart of one more tragedy—one more grand fuck up—and Yoongi dies with a needle in his arm, will Namjoon not blame you? Is that something you can live with?

Sometimes important decisions—ones that we know we have to make—still hurt like hell.

"Alright," you mutter again, unsure what to say. 

On the other side of Jimin's bed, Yoongi and Namjoon hold onto one another while you think about how you are going to approach Seokjin. After all, he is the one offering you a way out. 

You hate that this might be the last time you ever see Jimin again, but you feel grateful that at least Yoongi and Namjoon have each other. At least all of the family men have each other, you tell yourself. They can and will get through this next phase together. 

It will hurt like hell. They may all come to hate you. It could even push Yoongi over the edge. 

But you are certain that you cannot be around to witness another crack in the foundation. And you cannot put your well-being on the line just because someone else's may be threatened. 

You cannot keep doing this, but there is no other way that you can see turning down another one of Yoongi's proposals without disappearing instead. Even imagining the prospect of walking away breaks your heart and causes tears to form in your eyes.

Maybe in another life you could have been perfect. But in this life, all you have is heartache. In this life, all you have is fear and uncertainty and the brassy scent of blood. 

The only way out of a life like his is death.

Above all else, you know that you can not wait around to watch someone die. You cannot hope and dream and wish for a normal life while the men you love continue down paths of uncertainty and danger. 

You deserve a chance at a normal life. You cannot keep living this way. They cannot force you to stay in the mansion and live like this any longer. 

It's now or never. 

Calm myself A cup of tea Could give me good comfort Calm myself A couple of weeks Could make me forget you

🎵 visit the playlist

ONE MORE CHAPTER, AHHHH!!!! and then a sequel!!! don't worry this is not the ending!!! but it is still an ending so to speak, so HOW DO YOU FEEEEELLLLLLL??? any ideas of what Jungkook gifted her for her bday???

you may have noticed that some of the scenes did not get the usual Collateral treatment of the reader being fully aware of everything mc is aware of, including the mention of a conversation mc & Namjoon had at the start of the chapter, as well as the conversation that happens when Jimin is in a coma where i breeze over her being regaled with stories from their past. the first conversation is in Namjoon's POV scene, and i have been planning for a long time for the conversation at Jimin's bedside to be the topic of Yoongi's POV scene, so i left those details out. more information, including a teaser for Yoongi's scene to come in the near future!

but if you are curious about the Namjoon POV scene that takes place between this chapter and the earlier one (20), where he devises a plan to get Yoongi back from Hong Kong and has a heart-to-heart with mc, you can access it here. i highly recommend you at least read the teaser in order to see parts of the conversation that takes place between Namjoon & mc!!! in the full version of the POV scene, it is mentioned that Yoongi's ex carried a bouquet of wildflowers and roses on the day of their cancelled wedding. did you notice those flowers in this chapter? do with information what you will (it'll come up in the sequel.)

as promised in the beginning notes, let me distract you a little with Dionysus!!!! it is actually a club in Chell's fic Blessed With a Curse (which you should absolutely read!!!) and i became obsessed and wanted to steal it (with permission!!!) (it turns out it's a real place lolol.) much of my ability to describe it at all came from Chell's writing and i am so grateful to have an amazing friend who allows me to use their inspiration for my own. she's a super talented writer who is also a big fan of this story, and more than anything i wanted the presence of Dionysus in this story to be a nod to her because i care so much about her.

check this fucking place out:

obviously i changed some details here and there, and really did not even fully go into detail because it is a lot and architecture words allude me and i really have no idea what i am doing. (if you know more technical terms that could add to the description, i would love to know!!! i have no qualms with sneaking info into the fic on the sly.)💜

these end notes are becoming so fucking long lmao i am so sorry. i used to put nothing at the ends of fics/chapters and now i am writing entire dissertations.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU FOR READING, I LOVE YOU!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one! if you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know!!! 💜💜💜

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Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. no translations of reposts allowed.

#yoongi mafia #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts poly #bts mafia #bts angst #namjoon mafia #jungkook mafia #fic: collateral #Spotify

[thesupreme316]

hiiiiii I hope you have a amazing day,

I was wondering how the Aew boys react if someone try to use you against them like during the matches with them or in backstage with them busy with a other match ( like the attacker interrupt the match to show you being attacked) , I hope this makes sense 😭

i gotchuuuuu sweetheartttt

AEW Stars React To: You Being Attacked by Their Opponents

Pairings: Kenny Omega X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, Hook X Reader, Darius Martin X Reader, Nick Wayne X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader, Eddie Kingston X Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Supreme Speaks: Thanks to anon for this request (YALL KEEP EM COMING), this was really fun and a little bit different than how I typically post these. please know that you are loved and appreciated

Warnings: ANGST and fluff but ANGST, GIFS are NOT mine, not proofread

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @wwenhlimagines @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom

**Every person has their own backstory (in a wrestling world where I am a fantastic booker/producer) and the person who attacked them are in ()**

Eddie Kingston (BCC)

This happened during Eddie’s match against Christian Cage

Eddie didn’t want you out there in fear that Christian might rizz you up (or even Luchasurus no judgment)

So as he’s about to finish the match; the titantron shows up with you on the floor as Wheeler Yuta and Claudio tower over you

Eddie goes berserk; he no longer cares about the match; fuck the match

He leaves the match to rush to your aid with a kendo stick; whacking and cursing anyone who dares get in the way

He gets to you and hits Claudio and Wheeler as they run away; he holds you with so much care and curses himself out too

“Fuck Claudio and his Yorkie bitch! Fuck, I should have kept an eye on you doll. I’m sorry, it’s my fault”

Legit feels bad about the situation (it almost reduces him to tears) as you are put in an ambulance

Looks at Mox and says “You betta pray that she’s okay or Renee won’t be able to recognize her husband”

Darius Martin (Kingdom)

Okay hear me out; the Kingdom attacks you and then throws you on stage during Darius’ match to distract him

He looks at Action Andretti and Matt Sydal as they tell him to check on you; Darius goes with you backstage as doctors check on you

He’s silent….which is unusual and almost unsettling for you; he’s really taking everything to heart and is angrily simmering

“I’m so sorry that they dragged you into my mess, but I promise I will fix this”

He really feels remorseful about everything and certainly disappointed with himself that he allowed this to happen

Next week; he comes out with a chair and whoops ass

But I think he would go so far to the point where Andretti and Matt have to come out and say stop

He calms down and sits with you backstage for the rest of the show (he prolly will never take his eyes off you again)

Hook (Jack Perry)

Mans is fucking up everyone in sight

Bad enough that Jack took his title and refused to give him a rematch; so Hook is wrestling a jobber

As Hook has his opponent in the Redrum; Jack pops up on the screen with Anna Jay who is just choking you out (wish it was me)

Hook keeps the submission on long enough for the bell to ring before zooming backstage; just as Anna and Jack getaway

He is livid and starts throwing people left and right until he realizes that you are still on the ground

I think he feels exposed at the fact you were attacked cause he really does care about you

He helps you up and is visibly upset; vows to get revenge but then has a better idea

Two weeks later; he returns with you in tow and you two start WHOOPING THOSE TRICKS (to the point where the FTW championship is on the line in a tag team match; ex Edge and Kelly Kelly vs Dolph Ziggler and Laycool)

Nick Wayne (Swerve)

THIS SWEET BABY

He honestly doesn’t know what to think (and what he did to deserve Swerve hating him so much)

I feel like as soon as he sees your unconscious self on the screen, he would immediately dash backstage (like Eddie)

He would run up to your body “Y/N! Are you okay?” Before getting attacked by Swerve and AR Fox; who would then be run off by Best Friends

As he falls to the ground and when he wakes up, Nick would think that he’s a failure (DESPITE NOTHING IS HIS FAULT)

It would really take you constantly reassuring him that he was fine and nothing is his fault

“Yeah sure, but if I can’t protect you from attacks; then what kind of a man and wrestler am I?”

Like Darius, Nick would never allow you to leave his sight

Not until he ended this feud with Swerve

Kenny Omega (Will Ospreay)

Kenny would be that person who would just fill his mind continuously

During his match against Jon Moxley (sorry), The United Empire shows up with you about to go through a table

He turns his attention as Jon rolls him up and wins; Kenny immediately runs to the back

The Bucks attack the group and you are dropped on the floor (not through the table); you have no injuries

As he approaches backstage, mans is worried and anxiety has filled his body

Subconsciously declares war with Opsreay and will allow guilt to take over his mind

“I swear to you that Ospreay, that son of a bitch, will pay for this shit. And he will literally pay for your therapy (bitch take the free therapy plz)”

So much to the point where he’s not smiling anymore and treats every match like a deathmatch

Tbh, as long as Will shows up, Kenny will attack him without fail

Ricky Starks (CM Punk/The Factory)

OKAY LISTEN TO ME I believe that CM Punk would do some fucked up shit (as a true heel)

So during after Ricky’s match on Collision (who hasn’t seen you all night), Punk would show the footage of you being attacked by The Factory

But then he would say; “but that was earlier tonight”

And then BAM Punk attacks Ricky from behind and leaves him the ring

Ricky is upset at himself for not recognizing that you were missing all night and mad that he allowed Punk to attack him and you

Immediately checks on you and apologizes profusely

“I’m so sorry; I should have noticed, I should have made sure you were beside me-” “Ricky, you have been saying I’m sorry for the past hour” “Because I am!”

Would cut a vicious promo on Punk that embarrassed and angered him at the same time

Vows to get his revenge and starts it by attacking Punk

Daniel Garcia (Chris Jericho)

OKAY WOULD LOVE TO DO A POST ON HOW I WOULD BOOK DANNY’S EXIT FROM JAS

Danny is on the verge of leaving the JAS due to differences and Chris’ power trips, and you are his escape from it all

Chris knows this and tries to use it to his advantage; he tries to talk to you about Danny and keeping him in the JAS

To which you disagree and say it’s his decision; to which he got angry….and to which he may or may not have hit you with the baseball bat (CAUSE HE’S A JACKASS)

All of this was shown during Daniel and Sammy’s tag team match; Danny immediately jumped down from the apron (essentially leaving Sammy hanging) and ran to the back

He would be so angry that he would quit the JAS right then and there

Time skip, you were okay; when Danny told you the news, you were happy but you wouldn’t show it to him, asking him if he was sure

“Y/N, your safety, and well-being is more important to me than Jericho’s trash ass club. And it always will be.”

The following weeks are filled with confrontations until Daniel joins the BCC (who are not complete assholes in this universe)

HES FREE

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #aew hook #aew hook imagine #daniel garcia #daniel garcia imagine #daniel garcia x reader #eddie kingston #eddie kingston x reader #eddie kingston imagine #aew daniel garcia #hook x reader #darius martin #aew darius martin #darius martin imagine #darius martin x reader #kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks x reader #ricky starks imagine #nick wayne #nick wayne aew

[goldenbuckyyy]

HOLD ON

Summary: The aftermath of Harry finding you.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader (cheating together) Main characters x original characters.

Word Count: 4.1kish

Warnings: Cheating (Harry and Reader together), mentions of DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AGAINST PARTNER, mentions of blood, bruising, and cuts.

A/N: IM BACK!! I am so so sorry it’s take me over a month to post this part! I can’t even believe it’s been that long. I got into a bad writing funk after my last post and spend the last two weeks just reading and not even writing truthfully. But, thank you everyone for your patience. I hope you all enjoy. REMEMBER TO READ THE FIRST TWO PARTS!! Song inspo: “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet. 

Um, I’ve also reached 1.2k of you lovely people following me. 🥹 ily all. Thank you!!

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

Series Masterlist || Masterlist

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt more afraid. 

He’s been afraid plenty of times in his life. More than he can count. He’s not ashamed to admit it. 

He’s not ashamed to admit he’s felt fear before. 

Off the top of his head, he was afraid for his judges response on the x factor stage, he was afraid for what was going to happen after they had lost, he was afraid when they went on hiatus, he was afraid when he went solo, he was afraid before he put out his first album, his second album, and most recently his third. He was afraid of many things. 

But you were there for every single one. 

And you calmed him down. You were his rock. His grounding statue when he most needed it. 

Every single time he had been afraid in the past, you were his voice of reason, and it didn’t matter who was his partner at the time. 

He knew you were going to be his wife one day. 

He just knew it. 

He was just too stupid to think you guys could ever be with anybody else. But you were happy with Asher and he was happy with Vivian. 

Or he let himself believe he was happy with her. 

Because you were happy. 

But at the end of the day, when he laid in bed and held her. Smelling her expensive shampoo in her hair when they cuddled…

It always reminded him she wasn’t you. 

But he toughed it out. Because you were happy. He loved seeing you happy. He could handle settling for second best if he still had you in his life and thankfully that was never an issue between you two. 

Now, Harry feels like a complete fucking idiot. 

Because if he had only made you his wife like he had wanted too, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

He wouldn’t be going over the speed limit in the London streets if he had. He wouldn’t be holding back his tears as he thinks of what you had just told him on the phone. 

But who’s he kidding? 

His eyes were full of tears, threatening to fall down his cheeks, swerving through cars, not caring if he got stopped right now, knowing he wouldn’t pull over, and his entire body was shaking. 

His hands were gripping onto the steering wheel. So hard that it was almost painful, one hand was maneuvering the steering wheel, while his other hand was gripping onto his cross necklace on his chest. The same necklace that you had gifted him years ago. 

You had told him you saw it at a jewelers shop one day and decided to get a matching pair. He’s worn it ever since. 

His eyes dash to his cell phone that’s on the console, your name taunting him on the screen, and he keeps the call connected. Just in case you woke up. 

Once Harry turned into your secluded street, his tires screeching at his fast movement, but he stepped on the gas pedal to go faster. 

His heart was racing as he pulled into your stone driveway. He quickly parked his SUV, taking notice that only your car was in the driveway, and he felt his body fill with nerves as to what was going to await him inside. 

With shaky hands and stumbling feet, he ran towards your front door. He instantly stilled at the front door, gulping down the lump in his throat as he reached for the handle, and pushed the door wide open. It was unlocked. 

The house was earily quiet and it made his skin break out into goosebumps. Harry’s body was shaking in fear of seeing you, he quickened his pace, running down your long entrance hallway, and not knowing entirely where you were, he shouted your name. 

Peering into the open rooms, trying to see if you were in the first opening of the living room, and he was getting anxious when he didn’t see you. 

He ran down towards the second opening of the hallway which was your kitchen and instantly his feet skidded to a halt. His feet screeching against your marbled floor. 

Harry gasped loudly at the scene in front of him, a wrenching surprising sob wrecked through his body as his eyes scanned the kitchen layout, and he felt pale. 

It looked like a bloody crime scene here. 

Bright red liquid splattered over the white marble floors and cabinets. He could see it all over on the countertops, against the wall, and on the kitchen stove. Glass was everywhere that his eyes could see. 

And then he saw you. 

Another loud uncontrollable sob wrecked through his body as he ran towards you, falling down to the floor next to your unconscious body, not caring about the glass breaking his skin, his hands immediately reaching for you, pulling you into his body, and he tried to shake you awake. 

Rapid tears fall down his cheeks immediately, his entire body is shaking with his sobs, his vision is cloudy, and he pulls you into his lap. He wraps one of his arms around your body and uses his free hand to move your hair away from your face. 

He keeps repeating sun and baby over and over again. Hoping you’d hear him somehow. Hoping you’d open your pretty eyes for him. 

His eyes take in your bloody nose, busted lip, your favorite lavender sweater is coated with blood in different spots, and same as your apron. He notices your limp hands have glass in different places, your leggings are black but he can see different areas with small shards of glass on them. And your feet. Your poor blue fuzzy socks are drenched in red. He’s not sure if it’s wine or blood. 

His eyes move back to your face and he stills when he sees the hand marks on your neck. The fresh ugly bruises that are showing up. He looks up into the air, releasing a shaky breath, gritting his teeth as tears flow down his face, and he curses underneath his breath. 

Harry is physically shaking with anger and guilt. He’s so upset at what Asher did to you. He feels like he can kill him, but he shoves that feeling away and focuses on you. 

He doesn’t care that he’s getting himself covered in wine and blood right now. His free hand has specs of your blood on it now, but he keeps wiping away the hair and blood from your face. 

Repeating “baby” to your face and kissing your face to wake you up. The metallic taste on his tongue makes him whimper. 

“Hold on, baby. Just hold on.”

His voice is shaky, weak, and desperate.

So fucking desperate. 

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re not reacting to anything he does, but thankfully you’re breathing. He has no idea what Asher did to you, but whatever he did. He’s going to pay for what he did. 

Harry notices your phone next to you. He takes a shaky breath in and wraps his arms around you to pick you up. He reaches for your phone as he lifts you, tucks your limp body into his arms, sniffs hard to try and hold in the rest of his tears, and hastily makes his way towards his SUV. 

He manages to open his back door and gently sets you down on the seats. He kisses your forehead with shaky lips and whispers, “It’s going to be okay. I-I’m here, sun.” 

He drives towards the nearest hospital and prays to god that he hasn’t been followed by paps. 

The entire drive to the hospital is rapid with his eyes constantly moving to the rear view mirror to look at you. To make sure you’re still there. To make sure you’re breathing. 

Harry doesn’t hesitate to park in the “no parking” zone at the emergency entrance, he immediately starts honking to try and catch someone’s attention from inside. He sees a security guard immediately come toward him and Harry knows he must look crazy. 

He jumps out of his driver seat, reaching for the back door to pull it open. 

“I need you to get me some help!” The security officer is trying to flag someone from the inside to come and help him. 

The officer looks at him in confusion, “Are you hurt, sir?” The office raises his eyebrows at his appearance. 

Harry shakes his head, quickly pulling you into him once more, he hitches you up in his arms, and starts walking towards the entrance. 

“It’s for her,” he says as he continues to walk into the ER entrance and immediately he can feel all eyes on him. 

He ignores the stares, yells at the officer to help him, and starts feeling anxious. And he follows the officer when he opens a back door that leads him to where he assumes all the nurses and doctors are. 

He can see different people running around, helping patients, and it’s incredibly loud. Loud beeping noises and chatter fills his ears. His mouth feels dry and he feels sick. 

He looks at you in his arms, a soft whimper escapes his lips, and the officer brings him towards a ground of huddles nurses that are chatting about something. 

One of them is smiling at another nurse and when her blue eyes met Harry’s, she instantly stops, mouth drops, and Harry can see her lips whisper his name in shock. 

But then she suddenly reacts and rushes towards him. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” She asks, her hands immediately reaching out to touch you, and Harry’s reflex is to curl you into his arms. Away from her touch. He’s terrified to let anybody touch you, but he knows you need it. 

“I…” Harry starts, throat raspy, and he holds eye contact with the nurse, “I need your utmost discretion,” he states in a plea, but tries to keep his voice steady. 

Harry sees from the corner of his eyes more nurses rushing towards him and one of them is holding a stretcher. 

A male nurse tries to reach for you as well, but the nurse in front of you- Harry quickly reads her name tag- Lily. 

Lily holds her hand up to stop the male nurse and she then sets her hand on Harry’s forearm, giving him a squeeze, her eyes not leaving his, and she says, “I promise you. We will be discreet.” 

Harry nods, tears welling up in his eyes, and his hands are gripping onto your skin. 

“But… you need to put her down on the stretcher.. so we can help her. Okay? Can you do that, sir?“ 

Lily moves her body to angle the stretcher and Harry quickly nods. He walks towards the stretcher, he gently sets you down, and squeezes your hands in his quickly. His shaking fingers move the sticky hair out of your face as you fall limp into the stretcher. He steps back. 

Harry stands there, frozen in his spot, and watches them rush you away to an empty room. 

“I’ll take you to a private room where you can wait for the doctor. Or myself for an update, okay?” 

Harry nods as he follows her down a hallway, he starts messing with the skin around his fingernails, and Lily opens the door to a private room. 

“You can wait here. Somebody will come speak to you soon about what happened, okay? Do you need any medical attention yourself?” Her voice is steady and calm. It’s what Harry needs right now. Her eyes look him up and down for any injuries. 

“I’m okay, maybe… maybe just a wet rag, please.” Harry says, dry tears on his cheeks making his face feel stiff, and he keeps eye contact with Lily. 

“Okay,” she says. She’s standing by the door, gives him a small smile, and then reaches out for Harry’s arm. She squeezes him.

“It's going to be okay, Mr. Styles. We got her now.” Her eyes are sincere and Harry’s face crumbles in anguish. 

“Thank you,” he croaks out, covering his face, and turning away from her view. 

He hears the door shut behind him and the only thing he can hear in the room is his soft cries. 

•••

Harry must have fallen asleep after he had gotten himself cleaned up because he almost jumps out of the chair he was slumped into when he feels someone touch his shoulder. 

“Sir! I’m so sorry!” He hears someone exclaim above him. He adjusts himself into the chair, uncrossing his arms, and is confused about his surroundings for just a second before he sees your face in his mind. 

He stands quickly, “How is she?” He quickly runs his hands over his eyes to wake himself up. 

He recognizes the same nurse as earlier, Lily, and she gives him an easy smile. 

“She’s okay right now. A slight brain bleed, but nothing major. Don’t panic. It’ll heal on its own, but we’re going to keep her overnight to monitor it. Thankfully no broken bones. She does have a couple fractured ribs, but…” she trails off, her eyes looking to the side, and she looks nervous. 

“What’s going on?” His body fills with worry instantly. 

“She woke up, Mr. Styles.” 

Relief washes throughout his body and he silently says a thank you. 

“Oh, thank god. That’s good… that’s good, right?” Eyebrows furr when Lily nods, but doesn’t follow Harry’s breath of happiness. For a split second, he feels happy that she's awake and okay. But then Lily is rolling her lips in and biting the bottom one. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks. His voice shakes. The anticipation of what she’s about to say fills him with dread once more. 

“Mr. Styles, we asked her what happened and she doesn’t remember. She might have a concussion or she might be blocking out the memory because of the trauma. She simply might not want to remember. It’s a way trauma victims protect themselves in these types of scenarios. It’s not uncommon.” 

“O-okay?” 

Lily puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder as if to comfort him for what she’s about to say. Harry feels confused as the comforting touch. He fumbles with the skin around his fingers in anticipation. 

“She states that her boyfriend would never have done this.” 

“W-what? She— wait— she said that?” Harry feels even more confused. He wasn’t imagining the phone call. He distinctly remembers what you had said. 

Lily nods as he continues, “S-she told me. She told me that he hit her. That he—-“ he stops himself from continuing. Gulping down the forming lump in his throat. He bites his tongue because he doesn’t need anybody knowing about his personal business. 

Harry slightly looks up to keep his tears at bay, sniffling slightly, and his eyes start to burn. He looks back down at Lily. 

“He found out about something… something she didn’t want him knowing and that’s when he did that to her. I-I swear.” 

“Mr. Styles, I’m sorry. But… If the patient says that’s not what happened.. then we have to believe the patient.” She almost looks guilty. 

“Even if she doesn’t remember it happening?” Harry asks in desperation, not believing what she’s saying. 

Lily nods with a small frown on her lips. 

“I can take you to see her, if you’d like.” 

Harry immediately nods and follows her down to your room. Lily knocks when they stand in front of the room and when Harry walks in, his lips quiver and his heart feels heavy. 

“Oh, baby.” He whimpers out as he takes in your appearance. He manages to grasp onto the door to ground himself from the way his knees buckle at the sight of you. They’ve cleaned you up, but all the bruising from your face and neck makes him wish it was him in the bed instead of you. 

You're laying down against the hospital bed, covered in a white blanket, with your head tilted back, but it only showcased the ugly, raw, and red marks on your neck. It made Harry internally weep at the sight. You have a machine on your right side connected to your IV and Harry can only imagine its fluids. Or maybe pain medication. He doesn’t dwell on it too long. 

Your arms are laying over the blankets and resting on your stomach. Your hands are delicately covered in white gauze, but only your palms. And he knows it’s because of all the tiny glass cuts you had. 

When his eyes land in your face, he wishes he could erase this picture from his brain. He pleads to the gods above that this is the last time he will ever see you hurt. He doesn’t think he can survive seeing you like this again. 

Your bottom lip has a big cut on it which is making your lip a little swollen. Your entire right cheek is bright red with undertones of purples and you have one big bruise forming on your left cheekbone. Your nose has a small splint on it, but he can see the swelling underneath and the bruising on the sides. 

Harry doesn’t even want to think about what you went through. 

It’s almost as if you felt his presence because you slowly tilt your head down and your eyes search the room. When you meet his gaze, your entire body relaxes with relief and his name falls out of your lips like butter. 

Harry is immediately at your side, wanting to hold you and touch you, but he stops himself.  He hesitates in front of you and your covered hand reaches for him. His hand immediately covers yours, warm with gauze but cold fingers, and he starts crying. 

“I-I,” Harry tries to form words, but his voice is muffled because of his sobs. He falls into the chair next to you and covers his face with his arms on top of the bed. 

Your hand is immediately intertwined with his curls and you're rubbing his scalp to try to calm him down. 

“They told me you found me?” You question and he cries harder at your voice. It’s raspy and hoarse. You don’t sound like yourself, you sound like you’re in pain, and he knows you are. It makes him cry even harder. 

Harry can only nod at your question. He lifts his head to look at you and you try to give him a small smile. He’s looking into your eyes, your beautiful eyes, and he sniffles. 

He ghosts one of his hands over your face and you almost want to melt into it, but you don’t. Because you know how bad you look and how every single part of your body hurts right now. 

Instead, you grab his hand in yours once again. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper with tears in your own eyes as you watch his red eyes. His green eyes are bright against the red, his nose is red too, cheeks are flushed, lips bright pink, and he looks beautiful. 

“Do you remember anything?” Harry asks between his sniffles. 

You roll your lips inside your mouth for a second and bite down on your unaffected side, eyebrows furred down, and you shake your head. 

“I… I don’t. I’m… I’m assuming someone broke in? Maybe someone tried to steal from me and did this?” Your voice sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself this is what happened. Instead of the reality that Harry knows about. 

“Baby,” Harry whimpers out. “You called me… and told me Asher had found out about us.” 

“Asher?” You question in a low tone, feeling confused once again. 

“You… you said he hit you.” Harry gulps down the lump in his throat after he speaks those words and takes in your reaction. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. Frowning, you exclaim, “Hit me?! Asher would never, Harry.” 

Suddenly, you’re pulling your hand out of his hold and Harry feels like you’re retracting from him. 

“Baby, I wouldn’t lie—-“ 

“Stop it!” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest, ignoring the sharp pain that runs through your body as you touch your aching ribs. 

His eyes dart to your stomach and back to you. 

“Are you—“ 

“Stop.” You spat at him, feeling furious at him for even suggesting that Asher would do this to you. Asher would never do this. Never. 

“Asher would never do this to me, Harry. Are you—- what are you— are you lying to me? Is this a joke? Is this some sick fucking joke? Maybe I did this to myself!! I’m fucking clumsy. I’m sure I just fell on my own. Maybe I dropped the wine bottle myself and tripped and hurt myself!” You cry out to him as fast tears start running down your cheeks. Your mouth speaks faster than your own brain. Spilling anything that would make more sense than what Harry is telling you. 

“Baby. Baby. Baby.. what are you.. what are you saying? Baby, stop. He caused your head to bleed. He caused you a brain bleed, baby. You.. you didn’t do this to yourself. How could.. how could you have done this to yourself?” Harry cries as he stumbles over his words quickly at you. 

“Asher didn’t do this to me,” you state confidently even though you feel confused about the whole thing. “Why would he do this to me, H?” More tears filling your eyes at Harry’s accusations. 

Asher didn’t do this to you. He couldn’t have. Could he? 

“He did this to you! He hit you!” His voice goes higher as his frustrations rise, his lips in a frown. 

“You’re lying!! Stop lying to me. Why would Asher do this to me, Harry?! He loves me. And I know you love me. You’re my best fucking friend, but you’re crossing a line. He would never do this to me. You need to leave. You’re lying to me. I don’t want you here.” 

“W-what?” Harry’s gaping at you, mouth dropped in shock, and a sob escapes his lips once more. 

“Go. Now! I don’t want to look at you!” You turn away from him, sniffling, and wiping your tears away. 

“You can’t be serious, Y/N. Listen to yourself,” he tries to plead with you as he tries to reach for your hand, but you turn your body to move. Ignoring the pain it causes you. You don’t look at him. 

“Leave,” you demand once more. Ignoring his cries and his words. 

“O-okay, baby. I’m going to leave. But… but… please. Please try to remember my love. Please,” he begs you. 

You don’t say anything. You just stare out the window until you hear him get up and leave. You sit in silence for a couple minutes. Trying to think about everything he said. You wipe away your tears and reach for the call light to call for your nurse. 

You press the red button and adjust yourself to relax against the mattress, trying to inhale a deep breath, and Lily comes into the room. 

“Hi, love. Did you call? Need some help?” 

“Yes, Lily. I did. Harry gave you my phone, right?” 

“He did.”

“Okay,” you make eye contact with her. “Can you please call the person under the name of Asher? Can you let him know what’s happened and where I am? The code is 0509.”

A look of uncertainty flashes over Lily’s face, but she quickly controls her reaction. You don’t question it because she nods quickly right after. 

“Of course, Mrs. Y/L/N.” She smiles at you, “I’ll be right back.” 

Lily leaves the room and you close your eyes for a second. 

You try to unclear your mind, trying to remember what happened, and flashes of what happened play out. 

You see the wine bottle falling down onto the floor loudly.

You see yourself crawling into the corner and the feeling of true terror fills your body at the memory. 

You can see yourself begging the person to stop, but you can’t see their face. 

Your face crumbles in frustration at not being able to remember the one most important detail. 

You sigh, opening your eyes, and you decide to wait for Asher to walk through the door. 

Maybe he can help you remember. Maybe he’s spoken to the police and maybe they’ve already found the person who did this. 

But there’s also a part of you wondering why he isn’t here right now. Wouldn’t he have found you after coming home from work? Maybe he had to work late. 

You shake your head at the intrusive thoughts. 

You try to relax once again, trying not to feel bad for kicking Harry out, but you know Asher would have never done this to you. 

He would have never. 

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #Harry styles x influencer!reader #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fic #illicitaffairsau #Harry styles imagine #Harry styles fic rec #Harry styles cheater #cheater!harry styles

[002yb]

Hi Toney, I am so happy that you're feeling better, I got a bit worried when I didn't see any new posts from you.

What do you feel about Jason's reaction to Jaybin getting displaced in the timeline and popping multiple years in the future, and suddenly there is Jaybin and all of his barely hidden hero worship and utter love for Dick. And Dick is so good to him, and so smitten and Jaybin is so precious and blushy and two steps away from fainting every time dick hugs him or ruffles his hair, and Jason is so jealous cause dick is being better to Jaybin than he ever was to Jason in the past. But they're both Jason!!

#i am really happy to see you again on my feed #hopefully I'm not coming off as rude #curse you ADHD

Hey there, thank you for your concerns!  Though I’m sure it’s apparent, the posting is still lacking – sorry about that.  I appreciate that you like seeing my posts come across your dash though.  Thank you so much. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Jason being put off by Jaybin because 1) he’s treated better than Jason, 2) he’s envious of the positive attention freely given to him and 3) Jaybin is stupidly naive and Jason knows there’s only disappointment waiting for him; he’s just waiting to get taken advantage of and hurt.

What’s more, he’s insecure.  Because Jason has always had this belief that everyone preferred who he was to who he is.  This experience only confirms that for him.

Needless to say, Jason is terse when Jaybin is around.  He’s not kind at all; par for course though – it’s him, at the end of the day

And it’s not like Jaybin complains about Jason’s aggression, confused as he is (because wtf happened?  why is he such a bitch??), but Dick notices and is none too pleased.

Which leads to dickjay fights as Dick comes to Jaybin’s defense

And Jason just loses it because insecurity gets the best of him.  Because he’s convinced that he’s no good as he is.  That’s why they’re all always fighting, why Jason is always toeing lines and watching his back.  Because he came back wrong – twisted.

Maybe it would have been better if Jason stayed dead.  Because they could have kept Jaybin and not been burdened with the scraps that came back.

Maybe Jaybin hears it:  ‘We die?’

And Jason snarls, all bared teeth, a wounded animal pushed into a corner:  ‘Yeah, because you were looking for something you’ll never fucking have,’ and despite himself Jason’s voice breaks because, ‘Family.  Love.  Grow the fuck up.’

What’s to love?  What’s to want?

Just Jason being so cruel to his younger self because he hates how dumb he was.  But also?  He hates how easy it is for Jaybin to trust and love and be loved.  Because Jason doesn’t have that.  Not anymore.

And Dick is ready to intervene.  He doesn’t know if he wants to snap at Jason for being so cruel to a child (himself!) or if he wants to comfort him because Jason is wrong about his perceived lack of value/worth, but also?  He wants to throw down because this dumbass – projecting his own feelings over Dick’s.  But then again, reevaluating everything because maybe Dick (and everyone) haven’t been as forthcoming or forgiving as they should have been.

So Dick ends up being paralyzed because Jason is volatile and Dick can take him in a fight, but that’s the thing – he can’t fight him in light of Jason’s despair.  He doesn’t know how to comfort him though.  Doesn’t know how to– fuck.  Doesn’t know how to love him.

A devastating realization that takes the fight right out of him.

But it’s fine, because Jaybin is there to throw down.  With that ornery brand of kindness that is uniquely Jason.  Just Jaybin being able to read Jason because they’re the same.  Because Jason hasn’t changed as much as he thinks from back when he was fifteen and hurting.

Something something Jason’s vulnerabilities being exposed by himself.  A weird therapy of sorts with confronting past and present.

Which eventually leads to dickjay.  In the form of one of the Jasons blurting out about their crush on Dick and that’s when everything stops because uh oh.  Both Jasons turning with matching blushes and flustered expressions at where Dick stands off to the side, wide-eyed and overwhelmed because there’s just a lot going on, y’know?

And yeah, eventually Jason reconciles with his past self.  Maybe Jaybin would get a kiss from Dick before Jason ever gets a chance and Jason is left blustering because why the hell is he such a cheeky little bitch, omg. ///A/////

Which leaves Dick and Jason with the fallout of everything.  And Jason doesn’t want to do any of it; forget it.  Only Dick won’t leave it alone.  No attention would be given to the crush, but Dick would make sure Jason knows that he’s loved.  And he’d make better efforts in showing it.  And being more understanding to Jason’s perspective; being in his corner.

During which time Jason falls in love a lot more because he’s so weak to kindness.  And Dick’s heart breaks because it’s not anything at all (only it is and he knows that now).

Something something slow burn healing of relationship which leads into a tentative friendship which leads into a strong partnership and eventually that undying crush gets addressed lol.

#dickjay #jaydick

[headspace-hotel]

I'm probably gonna regret attaching my name to this but I slept on it and I'm still really upset but now more coherent (so please delete this if it's unwelcome).

First of all I'm really sorry you're dealing w this shit. I hope you're taking care of yourself rn.

Second of all.... holy fuck Inneskeeper has handled this horribly. I'm trying to extend the benefit of the doubt and say he just needs time, we all do, but it's very hard when he's been acting as though a day is enough time for everyone to get over the fear he spread.

It's really upsetting to see him bring up both his schizophrenia and his career as reasons why he was upset without ever actually uttering the words "I'm sorry, I was wrong." without needing to read between the lines.

It's a really concerning trend I've noticed reappearing now that actual celebrities and just plain old popular users are becoming more open with their mental health, that "I was having a psychotic break/I was having a manic episode/I was blah-de-blah" somehow taking the place of an actual apology. As if explaining it means you no longer have to take action or responsibility.

Especially given he was bringing up his profession during all this. As a professional especially he has a responsibility. I know "this is tumblr" but this is TUMBLR. People don't fact-check. You have sway. Especially as a professional.

He could've made the post unrebloggable, but if he did I haven't seen it. He could've pinned a post that actually contained information/a retraction/a quick apology and explanation, instead we got "I'm taking a break". He edited the post, but given part of his defense was that reblog chains are uncontrollable an edit you would not see unless you clicked back to his blog is...

I'm really hoping that once he comes back he'll say something. Because I know parasocial relationship and all that but I really did respect him, as someone transgender and with some of my specific mental illnesses in a field I'm deeply interested in.

But now I'm just... tired. He spread that same cycle of panic and delusion to everyone who read that post. Here I was thinking that I just got my dog back from the vet and now she and everyone else I love was going to die, that the apocalypse was coming.

Until I did the googling he as an actual ecologist did not do. As if me taking a tumblr post and freaking is less acceptable than him taking a twitter post and freaking.

I don't want to cancel him or bully him. I don't doubt that he's gotten some ableist nonsense, because the internet sucks. But he really hurt a lot of people and did a lot of damage. All I want is him to plainly say "I'm sorry, I did it because [x/y/z] but it was still wrong and I hurt people. Here is some actual information. I'm going to log off." Without a billion asterisks.

And honestly maybe apologize for siccing people on you but frankly given how hard my opinion of him has tanked I'm not gonna hold my breath.

I'm fine. The block button is a wonderful thing.

My feelings are mixed. Yes, I see that it would be terrifying to have your mental illness warp your perception of an event, but...you're not the only mentally ill person on Earth, and it's no less terrifying to be triggered into an episode by false information.

I have been asked by several followers to trigger tag #unreality because that kind of thing really messes with them. And the post was framed in a particularly triggering way—encouraging conspiratorial thinking by saying that there's a "media blackout" and that the official sources are downplaying the severity.

The post is still circulating as of this morning, and the misleading version is still hitting people's dashes and suckering people in. Why would you not just make it unrebloggable?

I don't know. I really don't know what to think of the whole thing.

The Twitter OP makes me honestly furious, claiming that "the cops" "blew it up" when it was first responders putting their lives in danger to stop the burning train cars from exploding. It's so frustrating to see people acting like they're calling it a "controlled burn" to cover up idiotic mismanagement. The crews that responded to this accident at great potential risk to their lives don't deserve to be called cops and slandered for making the best decision they could have possibly made.

In general it's worrying how folks on social media are responding—by encouraging paranoia and mistrust by attributing malice or idiocy to the people trying to manage the accident.

Folks say "fuck cops" but they can't distinguish cops from firefighters and hazardous materials crews working to save lives. That's scary to me.

I don't think we know enough yet to ascertain the causes of the accident, but I want to caution against looking for a specific party to blame as being at fault, because...these things can happen even when we do everything right. As long as we use these hazardous chemicals to make things, this is always a possibility.

And it's not necessarily a "preventable" failure of society that we make and use PVC, either. One of the causes of how widespread plastics are is that they are genuinely useful materials with properties that no other materials have. PVC pipe is what probably makes the plumbing in your house. Before PVC, there was copper, which is incredibly expensive, has a tendency to burst with temperature changes, and corrodes and reacts with various chemicals.

And the sad fact is, environmental disasters like this happen a lot. Many of them worse than this.

Not too far from where I live, there was a case where tons of radioactive waste were dumped into a municipal landfill. This radioactive waste was being handled by workers who didn't know what it was and had no protection. This was a case of malicious dodging of regulations. Mining coal creates radioactive and toxic waste that is constantly mismanaged. I was doing reports on local environmental news for my geology class a while back and many of the coal mines in Eastern Kentucky have a hundredfold violations of environmental and safety regulations, and companies usually dodge responsibility.

I hope this incident inspires people to think and talk about environmental regulations and rights of workers in the rail industry. What with the railroad strikes going on, I think it's worth considering that this is why we need to look out for the welfare of rail workers—you want the people handling the shipment of hazardous chemicals to be well rested and well protected.

#environmental disaster #ohio train derailment

[nightgoodomens]

I’ve see your post about that deactivated blog and I think I get who you're referring to, because she was one of my favorite people here. Yesterday she wrote a funny post about Aziraphale being a damsel in distress and someone added to her post a take about Crowley being Aziraphale's devoted dog. She replied that she was very tired of things like that. Someone else accused her of treating Aziraphale like an idiotic teenager and told her there was no need for people like her here. Then she wrote that the last 15 minutes might not have any secret code and people started being mean to her for no reason. She asked them to stop. In her last post that I saw she said that wasn’t feeling well because of something she was told and now her blog is deactivated. I don't know if anything else happened. I hope she’s okay, because her last post was concerning. I've been following her since her first meta and she wrote some of my favorite aziracrow posts. When I asked her a question, she wrote a long answer and she was very kind. I have a multifandom blog and I will now stop posting about GO because the fandom has become toxic and it has made my love for the show fade.

Thank you for writing in!

Oh I am so done with the fucking idiots in this fandom. So done!

The past few months we’ve seen an influx of idiotic trolls who don’t know shit about the show and have problems they should take to a psychologist instead of bullying loving fans off the fandom. They really should find shows made for them instead of being toxic in a fandom that has nothing to do with what they’re insisting on.

Seriously? Someone asks to please not add such things to their posts because it clearly bothers them and they do that in spite? What’s wrong with you people.

I remember I made a funny post about my OC & Crowley/Aziraphale and someone added such extremely sexual content to it that I literally stared in disbelief and blocked them after a minute because I could not even find the words to respond to that.

It really stops you from posting more. I had so many theories and scenarios to post everyday and now I barely bother anymore.

It really has been nice here for a couple of months but now I barely scroll my dash because within a few gorgeous fan arts it’s just a shit take after shit take and that kind of insanity with how Crowley is treated. I’ve never seen a fandom so badly ignore what a show said about a character, or both actually, and then decided he needs the opposite that actually in canon would just kill him. Sickening. It makes me shudder how people think he needs to be put in a situation that would mentally ruin him and that kind of thing is everything he’s against and people dare to say he needs that. That it would be good for him that it’s affection. Fucking hell. No wonder so many people are starting to deactivate and say they’re moving on. At this point it’s to not lose their minds and to keep their mental health stable because some takes are horrifying at this point.

The amount of trolls jumping on people’s posts to ruin them only to upset them and stupid anons has increased too.

What a shame. Honestly what a shame. I can’t believe they did it to one of the best people here. I am so sad she’s gone but I understand - there is so much you can take before the show you love begins to only be associated with everything you dislike. There are some scenes I can’t even look at anymore because people fetishised everything to the extreme. And I know she was struggling with trying to keep on loving the show too.

Fuck, how fucking sad. I hope she’s doing okay 😞

#NightGoodOmens answers #I’m so mad and sad fucks sake #I’ve never seen a fandom hit the ground so quickly before #no love left in this fandom for both fictional character and real people

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

part two of this:

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

everyone say hello at my bushcat :) her name is Maple.

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

Thank you for all the kind replies! ^^ to celebrate I’m letting Maple share some words of wisdom:

6)nvd .,c-%@#0”sxmlkp. d

Truly inspiring.

804 notes

🩻 thesnatcher Follow

you all should send my sister anonymous hate it would be funny

🩻 thesnatcher Follow

NOT ME YOU FOOLS

#MY PLAN IS BACKFIRING

5045 notes

⌛️ahatintimekeeper Follow

I dont think that snatcher realizes that people just pecking hate him

#hatchat

5 notes

🌠corgiquest5fan Follow

YOOOO CHAT I GOT SO MUCH CORGI MERCH FROM THE SHOPS IN NYAKUZA TODAY ILL POST IT L8TER BUT THIS IS SO RAD HOLY SHIT DUDE IM SO EXCITED!!1!

15 notes

anonymous asked: Um you do realize putting “Domesticated the Snatcher” in your bio is hella creepy right? Like it’s weird as fuck to dehumanize an already demonized species like ghosts are people too. You’re already disrespecting the dead with that but it’s especially weird seeing as he’s literally an actual murderer on top of that? Like taking away the ghost thing that’s even creepy to say about a fucking serial killer as well. Like. What the fuck man. Actually what is wrong with you??

🌷identifying-flowers-in-posts Follow

6360 notes

🐇 bunnything-official Follow

“what’s your gender” ermmmm im silly?

6490 notes

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

Godssss if I have to see one more post about the lost prince of subcon I’m going to break the moon again /j

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

like not just posts talking about him but ones that are just blatantly wrong or infactual but I can’t be too mad because no one knows what really happened hardly but STILL. thank stars I killed him by transitioning but STOP PUTTING HISTORY ARTICLES ABOUT HIM ON MY DASH!! PLEASE!!!!

407 notes

Anonymous asked: WAIT WHAT?????? Amy did you???? Know the lost Prince of Subcon?????? Also what’s the context of the transition thing? What????

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

go talk to @ thesnatcher about it because I don’t care about that guy anymore (referring to the prince, not snatcher, love u ^^🩵❤️(i want to trap him in the horizon sometimes))

1094 notes

anonymous asked: YOUR SISTER IS THE FUCKING SUBCON PRINCE WHAT THE FUCK???????????????????????

🩻 thesnatcher Follow

oh gods what happened why are we talking about this GET OUT OF MY ASKS.

5800 notes

anonymous asked: Amy why did you say to talk to your brother and not you?????

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

…because he’s the prince too…? I thought everyone knew this??

🩻 thesnatcher Follow

MOON YOU DID NOT JUST OUT ME TO ALL YOUR FOLLOWERS WHAT THE HELL

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

WHAT HUH I THOUGHT THAT WAS A KNOWN FACT? IS IT NOT? 9045 notes

🏞️ doyoulovethecoloroftheskyline Follow

3006 notes

🐇bunnything-official Follow

STOPPPP MY BOSSES DO NOT WANT ME TO HELP THEM MAKE A HORROR DOCUMENTARY ABOUT SNATCHER OH MY CLOTHHHHHHHH BYEEEEEEE

anyway happy day for subcon history fans i guess :p, so sad no one knows i was the one who cracked moonies egg but wat ever *kicks rock and walks away with head lowered + tail dragging behind meoh stitch i just reread the top half of the post for a microsecond i lived in a world where my bosses didnt pitch that idea to me it was so beautiful

470 notes

💠 Jermeow Follow

856 notes

🎆mjs-hideout Follow

shady-sunburntdeactivated03122017 is both my best friend (wrote pretty accurate books on subcon history and spirits :)) and my worst enemy (wrote books on subcon history ft my deadname being everywhere in it)(I mean I suppose it is also my brothers name but it’s NOT MINE OK he can keep it)

409 notes

🌷identifying-flowers-in-posts Follow

Sorry we made your queer platonic ghost partner match with me. Yeah he took on my flower motifs and I took on his thorn motifs. Yeah we match to show our relationship. He’s chilled out now he’s not evil anymore but he’s still a massive bitch. Yeah. Yeah he’s biace too. Yeah, sorry. #about thorns #subconsnatcher

368 notes

#long post #unreality #fakeblr #aau #ahit

[etoilesombre]

sad captains make bad choices chapter two PLEASE I need it like I need breathing

For the WIP game. I was just WAITING for someone to ask about this one because I'm so excited to post the second chapter. Should be done over the weekend! First chapter here for context. Flint is so sad and pining (and also drunk and bad at people) that when he and Silver are staying at an inn together on a war mission and things get flirty, instead of making a move on Silver he goes out to an 18th century gay bar and has really intense group sex with randos. Was this an excuse for free use porn that then got out of control? Why yes, yes it was. Anyway Silver walks in, Flint sends him away, everything is horribly awkward, and Flint shuts down and is a bastard about it (see: bad at people.) In this, the second chapter, they... talk. Uh. Etc.

I had a hard time picking an excerpt for this one but here goes, the first bit of their conversation.

“Captain, this has to fucking stop,” Silver said at last, their third day back on the island.  They were on the cliffs, sweaty and panting between bouts. Flint had only spoken to comment on Silver’s form. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, hoping it might be true. That hope was immediately dashed.  “We need to talk about what happened in Virginia,” Silver said.  “We absolutely do not,” Flint replied, putting as much cold warning into his voice as he could muster. “I told you, it was a mistake. Leave it alone.” But Silver was not nearly as inclined to be cowed into silence as he had once been. “I tried to leave it alone,” he insisted. “And you’ve barely fucking spoken to me. It is obvious that you harbor some– some anger or resentment toward me over the matter, and I just—” “I don’t,” Flint interrupted, flatly.  “Then I don’t understand–” “Have you considered that it is not for you to understand?” Flint snapped, backed into a corner. “That perhaps you do not have a right to every goddamn piece of my life just because…” Flint trailed off, seeing the darkening of Silver’s expression and realizing the hypocrisy he would perceive in the words.  “You know what I think?” Silver’s tone was light, almost conversational, but it carried a bitter, dangerous undercurrent. “I think you’re just plain fucking embarassed. And I think you’re taking it out on me, because you can’t stand that I witnessed something that makes you as human as everyone else.”  Flint bridled at the accusation, at how simple, how petty it sounded when Silver said it. He wasn’t… it wasn’t just… He reached for a counter argument, and slowly deflated as the truth of it sank in past his defensiveness.  “And you know what?” Silver continued, apparently not finished but only hitting his stride. “That’s a bit fucking insulting, Captain. Considering that I’ve been coming up here every day and utterly humiliating myself in front of you. Considering that you were the only one who I—” He stopped abruptly, and Flint heard what he couldn’t say. The only one Silver had let near him, when he awoke after losing his leg, the only one other than the doctor allowed to witness the particular degradations of his suffering. “I meant it, when I said I didn’t think pride was an issue between us. That’s the only way this partnership works.” For a brief moment Silver sounded hurt, but found his way quickly back to outrage. “And I tried to be your fucking friend, as insane of a proposition as that may be. I did not judge you for your relationship with Thomas Hamilton, any more than I have ever judged any man on our crew for the same.” He glared at Flint, eyes blazing. “And if you’re going to be a bastard to me just because you assume I must be horrified by seeing what you like in bed, then fuck you.” 

#ask game #my writing

[insidejizz]

ROBOTUS alpha-beta headcanons

first writing post is gonna be some general headcanons for everyones favorite robot =) feel free to request any other characters , or anything at all 

// he wont outright say it but he. has a bias against bears because of bearo now.

mostly he just makes like petty comments if he sees a bear or anything? calls them stupid and annoying

of course this would quickly change if anyone gave him something that was a bear.

hed make some comment about it, something about how "you must not know me very well if you thought this was a good gift" but also he. wont give it up no matter what.

like if they offered to get him something else? its instantly 'no takebacks live with your choices' because he refuses to genuinely say he likes something that is bear themed.   but he does.

// i think if he had access to more shows (reagan please give him access to ur streaming services PLEASE) he would still love lighthearted cheesy shit like sitcoms

like as much as he enjoys high stakes where humans all die (lol), he finds it a lot more fun to watch shows where its just a bunch of. harmless idiots existing.

the office, parks and rec, schitts creek, etc etc. 

of course this makes him. insufferable to any non-sitcom enjoyer but if you show him other things you can wean him off of it u just gotta find other funny shows

one time he compared reagan to sheldon from big bang theory. he didnt….. mean it to be mean? it was a simple observation, but it did NOT go over well with reagan 

other shows he would enjoy, imo;

the good place

game shows! he gets SO heated watching gameshows bc he will play along and get mad if he cant get the answers right shgsghjdsjgn

columbo

gravity falls

// does not know his own strength sometimes and will just like crush shit in his hand accidentally

like he doesnt. MEAN to but hell be holding something and then flex his hand a little to make sure its not locking up and WHOOPS he crushed that solo cup and now reagan has to fix a beer-logged robot arm

tries to hold a cardboard box gently and just rips holes into it trying to get the right strength grip on the box

with things that are more solid, hes just fine because he can stop when he feels resistance and know he's holding it firmly but not breaking anything

but with fragile things? there is no resistance and then its broken and hes like. aw fuck

// myc gave him a furby at one point. said he found it in storage and it reminded him of ab because it never shuts up and runs on batteries.

ab HATES it. absolutely loathes the thing. it sets a bad example for robotkind, its UGLY, its ANNOYING, and he CANT MAKE IT SHUT UP.

has taken out the batteries before . insists that it kept going even after he took them out so he just put them back in anyway

( in reality he took the batteries out, got lonely, and put them back in)

he gave it a name but its like. a WEIRD ASS name. its essentially just a glitch noise

said he did it bc "no human should ever be allowed to sully its name" which is. oddly endearing in his own way

if you are able to sneak up on him you might be able to hear him cooing at the furby. plots world domination with it like an evil mastermind and his cat

// WOULD NEVER ADMIT IT AND ONLY REAGAN KNOWS BC THEY SHARE THE SAME STREAMING SERVICES BUT…….. he LOVES my little pony. specifically equestria girls

cried watching the first equestria girls movie, refuses to admit he cried watching the first equestria girls movie.

he also… secretly imagines the gang as the mane six? it wasnt hard for him to decide who was who and he will just sit there during meetings like "haha that is SO rainbowdash of you myc…."

(if youre interested, his assignments are :)

myc ; rainbow dash

glenn ; applejack

gigi ; rarity

reagan ; twilight sparkle

andre ; pinkie pie

brett ; both spike and fluttershy. ab will argue for both and he will win the argument.

(btw he sees himself as sunset shimmer<3<3<3<3)

#REDACTED #robotus #robotus alpha-beta #robotus alpha beta #alpha beta #alpha-beta #robotus inside job #robotus headcanons #inside job netflix #inside job headcanons #- angel #thank you for reading :)

[ksyongi]

chapter two : falling for him

pairing: ceo!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: fake dating to lovers, mutual pining

warnings: language, full lowercase post, drinking, suggestive themes

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist

note: please do not copy my works, reblogs and notes are appreciated.

an: sorry i took so long to do this !! i hope you guys enjoy this chapter !!

synopsis: having to work at a 'jeon' company was already stressful as it was, what about dating the ceo, jeon wonwoo? what would happen in this unexpected situation? would both of you come out as enemies? friends? lovers? unexpected situations occur, and you two would have to encounter them together.

a vibration on the couch pulled him away from his train of thoughts, following the noise to under a cushion, he carefully lifts your head off his lap, as he sighs in relief. he lifts the cushion up looking at the contact name 'oppa💘🦭' wonwoo accepts the call with a visible frown on his face.

"hello sunshine!! how are you? is work still stressful for you last i called you, you ranted about your mean boss?" the unknown person comments. wonwoo wastes no time in asking "who are you." "i should be the one asking, who are you? why are you holding my angel's phone?" "nevermind bye." "don't you hang up on me-"

sighing, wonwoo walks to one of the rooms, coming back with a blanket in his arms. he places it over you before going into the guest room and going to sleep.

you woke up from the sound of your alarm, finding yourself in a big fluffy blanket from your room. 'wonwoo must've put this here...didn't think he'll be such a gentleman,' you thought to yourself. switching on your phone to look at your notifications as your eyes go wide when you saw the missed calls from your brother. 9 missed calls and 23 texts ranging from 'WHO IS THAT MAN' 'DO YOU WANT ME TO COME THERE RIGHT NOW' 'actually i can't its an hours drive BUT STILL.'

 quickly dialing his number, he responds after 3 rings. "OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY? DID YOU HAVE A MAN OVER LAST NIGHT?" "OH MY GOD SEOKMIN STOP SCREAMING ITS FUCKING 8 IN THE MORNING." "oh... heh sorry...." "yes i had a guy over why?" "well maybe he answered my call and i got protective," "HE DID WHAT?" "well look who's screaming now," you could feel his mischievous smirk at the other side of the line. "sorry seokmin i'll call you back, love you oppa."

going to find wonwoo, you storm to the bedroom but you are met with a note on the door. 'hey y/n, i had to attend to something so i left first, see you at the office.' rolling your eyes you quickly shower and throw on any decent outfit you found. you had to get to the bottom of this.

trying to compose yourself before going for wonwoo, you quickly enter a taxi and go to your office. but luck didn't seem to be on your side that day. met with a charge of $40 and a grumpy driver. adding on to that, jae happened to reach at the same time, following you all the way to the lift. "soo where are you headed?" opening your mouth, only needing to say one word for him to shut up "boyfriend." he awkwardly shifts from left leg to the right. 'since when did elevator rides get this long...?' you thought to yourself. the lift reached his level after an eternity, "well, see you later then..." he dashed out of the lift before you could mutter a response back.

reaching the level which wonwoo worked on, it was more tense than your level. a shiver went up your spine as you walked past the other workers. they were all quietly typing away on their keyboards, and there was minimum communication. you turned the corner and saw hansol arranging papers. his face lit up as he saw your presence. "hey miss y/n! thank god you are here, wonwoo is rather colder than usual today, he did not talk to me at all, he only walked into his office right after he arrived. since you're here, could you figure out what is wrong with him? and perhaps cheer him up too? hope i'm not asking for much! thank you!" trying to hold up a genuine smile, you nodded, and proceeded to knock on the door.

a faint "come in" could be heard as you slowly turn back as hansol mouths a 'good luck', two thumbs up as he scrunches his nose. you turn back to the door and enter. wonwoo is seated at his desk, glasses perched up on his nose like how you saw him for the first time. however, his eyebrows were furrowed, a worried look in his eyes as he tried to work.

 "oh y/n..." "wonwoo." "hopefully you saw my message, hope you are okay with that-" "cut the small talk, you know what i am here for. with all due respect, we must still respect each other's boundaries. being my 'boyfriend' does not mean that you can answer any of my calls." "does that mean you are hiding something y/n? you could have already told me that you were dating somebody, it would have been easier from the start." scoffing, you shake you head. "maybe if you'd not jump to conclusions and listen. the person who called, he is my brother, don't get any ideas alright? rather than this conversation getting heated, i think we both need some space." with that, you stormed out of the room.

hansol looked at you, "kinda got a hint...you didn't shut the door all the way so i could hear a tad bit of the conversation, hope you are going to be okay," hansol gives you a grin as you wave, walking off to do your work. you walked back to your desk with more forceful steps, plopping yourself on the seat before replying to your emails. you were close to screaming at him, thankfully you didn't. you did not even want to think about it at that point.

you could not be bothered with the looks of others as they throw at you already, nor the comments they throw at you. "oh i bet she tricked him so she could get in his pants." "ugh...i thought jeon wonwoo would have  better taste." and the list of comments goes on... you could simply roll your eyes at their boldness to make such remarks so loudly, its as if they want you to hear. well, you got yourself into this mess. no way wonwoo was going to let you break of the agreement anytime sooner and jae would just pounce at you the second he got the news that you 'broke up.' gosh....this is too complicated and stressful.

grabbing your wallet and phone to go for your lunch, you'd ask hansol but you don't want to risk getting in contact with wonwoo again. so....lunch alone it is..... strolling to the lift, placing your airpods in your ears-mostly to not hear the chatter of the others. a certain blue-headed guy interrupted your 'alone time' you raised your eyebrows at him as his hands signalled to take off your airpods. "are you y/n? the supposed girlfriend of jeon wonwoo?" your jaw clenched as you forcefully let out a "yes." "oh..my.GOD...YOU'RE SO PRETTY! oh how rude of me, i haven't even introduced myself." using his hand to hit his mouth as he nagged himself you could make out the words 'how could you forget common curtsey' and the rest of the words were scrambled. he finally faces you. "i am boo seungkwan, i work in the office of jeon wonwoo so you might not see me often since i'm always piled up in that paperwork...but hi!" you felt the sides of your lips curl up at his character. "you probably know me already don't you? its nice to meet you," seungkwan lets out a bright smile. you reach out your hand for him to shake but he throws his arm around your shoulder, "well, i see you're alone for lunch aren't ya? my best friend is busy and can't go with me today soo lets go together!" 

you were at the usual barbeque place with seungkwan. both of you just glued to your seat at this point. according to seungkwan, he knows all sorts of drama and can gossip with literally anybody. somehow all the news would go to him and he would spill it to anybody-on the condition that they buy him an iced americano. which was actually fair to you. he's actually a really good listener too? you were telling him everything about your 'relationship' with wonwoo...except the part where its all fake. you really did not want to talk about anything related to wonwoo at the moment. but seungkwan somehow managed make you spill most of the information.

his eyes bulging and eyebrows raised and mouth trying to gasp as he eats his piece of meat you explained, he would add in comments from time to time like "never thought mr jeon would do that..." "NO WAY HOW COULD HE?" "i refuse to believe whatever you are telling me right now." you could only close your eyes and nod.

you two headed back when you saw your other colleagues going out of the door, the bell leaving a 'ding' noise with every swing which always annoyed you. grabbing his coat in one hand and holding the door open with the other, you held a grin and thanked him before concluding your conversation.

walking into your office building, you bid your goodbyes to seungkwan,"it was nice talking to you, hope to do this more often!" seungkwan chirps. nodding your head and waving, he gives one final wave before turning around and leaving. the smile from your face practically vanished from your face when you saw wonwoo in the distance looking at you with a raised eyebrow before walking over to you, hands in pockets like his usual stance.

you talked to yourself in your mind trying to get yourself out of the position you were in. 'no. no i do not want this day to get possibly worse ugh move your legs please y/n. yes that eyebrow raise is hot as fuck but please cooperate with me this time.' cursing wonwoo's long legs, you could swear he teleported right in front of you. "can we talk." you shook your head and turned around. "are you fucking serious? our colleagues are watching and you decide to act like a child to get more rumors?" he says under his breath. only then you realize the amount of eyes that are on the two of you. "follow me." wonwoo starts walking at that stupid pace which is too fast for you,  "could you slow down and actually look like you care for your 'girlfriend'?" you said at a voice only audible for him to hear.

hearing a sigh from him and deciding to ignore it, he slows down before following him to a spare meeting room.

"come over to my house after work." he says, hands returning to his sides after closing the door. he leans against the door, looking at you with his usual blank look. "um what?" your face heating up at the possibility of- "don't get any ideas." wonwoo breaks your imaginative bubble above you. "i simply just want to have dinner to make up for what happened earlier." crossing your arms, you look back at him right in his eyes, "fine." he nods before an awkward silence fills the room.

you break the silence, "soo what are you going to do about the rumors of us? uh i mean like not i heard any its just that there might be people not believing us dating." "not like i care about them, they won't dare to open their mouth in front of me anyways." you frown at his answer, "but there are still girls trying to get you to sleep with them, please tell me you see those girls with the tight fitting dresses..." wonwoo's lips curled up into a smirk, "well ms jealous, would you rather me make out infront of them with you? or or how about i go and chain you to me the whole day to show them you are 'mine'."

wonwoo leans onto the table, getting closer to you. you place both of your palms on the table too, your faces only inches apart. "well, i'd not mind that....sir." "tsk don't play with me, you know i won't mind." with that, he shakes his head and leaves the room. you really didn't understand... you don't like jeon wonwoo but why does he make you feel such things... there's no time to think about these things... nevermind.

timeskip

when you were packing your stuff into your bag, after finishing all your assignments, you got a message.

6:47pm

wonwoo: i'm waiting in the carpark.

y/n: okay let me pack my stuff first

you quickly go into the lift and descend to the carpark level. you see his car already waiting at the drop of point. wonwoo was holding the steering wheel with one arm and the other was hitting the gear with his index finger at a constant pace. you open the door and wonwoo gives you a nod in acknowledgement before heading off to his house

you could say yourself, you were impressed. wonwoo's house looked wayy more expensive that you thought it will but it had a minimalist interior, most of his furniture in black and white. wonwoo walked over to you, helping you take off your coat and place it on the rack. "oh thank you," you mumble. wonwoo darts his eyes left to the right before saying "uhm i invited you to dinner but i may have forgotten that my personal chef was unwell..." "oh that's fine" you reply, "i mean you can just cook right?" "um...about that, i can't." "WHAAT??" "shut up, don't rub the fact in even more." "well, do you have any alternatives?" wonwoo raises his eyebrows at you, "of course i do. JISOO COME HERE." a certain brown haired man peeks his head at the hallway before walking towards the two of you.

"yes sir? how can i help you?" "could you bring me my 'no chef situation' food?" "yes, sure thing sir." with that jisoo walks away and in less than two minutes, he comes back holding....a pair of cup noodle packets?? "i really thought you would have some 'jeon wonwoo expensive' food as a backup?" "zip it, i'm a human too okay? i need some instant noodles sometimes." you fall back onto the couch, waiting for the noodles to finish cooking.

"oh shit i almost forgot" wonwoo quickly got up to his feet and walked off somewhere. he comes back with a bouquet of roses with a feint blush dusted across his cheeks. his head slightly turned to the side, not being able to look into your eyes. you look at the flowers in his hands in awe, "thank you so much wonwoo," "hope you accept my gift as an apology" he stutters out. you grab the flowers in your hand and delicately place them beside your noodles on the table.

you two take your cups full of noddle's and start eating them. you decide to get to know him even more. "so although our get to know each other session got cut off last time, tell me more about you." "you really do? i have a real shitty past to be honest." - "well, at least you have me as an outlet to get rid of all that pent up stress." "alright."

wonwoo sighs before he continues, both of  "i had to become the ceo of this company when i was barely 18, my father decided to pass it on because my grandfather got ill and my father had to take care of him. by the way, i’m sorry if i bore you because i really suck at all of this. so my father just threw all the work at me with no guidance whatsoever but just to be his 'slave' and make sure the company does well. luckily i had hansol who was there from day 1, he helped me with my work and mistakes although being almost as clueless as i was. but its just that i did not realize that it would mean i would be busy so often. from back to back meetings and with phone calls at any time of the day, there is always some sort of stress when in my position. guess nobody was there for me to help me with my struggles."

you speak up, "no, don't say that wonwoo i'm here okay? just give me a ring anytime you want to talk about anything, don't worry although i'm your fake girlfriend, i will make sure you know you are not alone in this.

there’s a moment of silence before wonwoo goes and gives you the warmest hug. you were speechless. you slowly come to the realization and wrap your arms around his too. "thank you..for being there for me.." wonwoo says in almost an inaudible whisper. he slowly returns back to his normal position on the couch. you both continue eating, "well... wanna watch something...? i'm choosing though, no more sci-fi please."

reaching for the remote, and going to netflix, you see the show '50 shades of grey' at the recently played show column. your eyes go wide before turning to him. "what? i'm a man too okay? i'm mature enough for these things and i heard it's a good show." "no i’m just shocked you watched this for the first time ONLY NOW??"  he gives you a frown, "i’m sorry i don't have much time to watch a show and possibly get horny and jerk off?" you roll your eyes and settle on the show puss in boots.

"y'know, puss reminds me of you." you comment. he squints his eyes at that, trying to find any sort of relevance. "how?" he inquires. "well, maybe because you look like a cat too. you're charming like him too." wonwoo gave you a smug look "well, tell me more." "that's for another day, lets play something shall we?" he sighs, "well do you have any board games here?" "uh well..." wonwoo scratches his head-"so i may only have uno..." "eh that'll do." you say.

wonwoo walks over and opens one of the drawers. he pulls out the deck and you grab it from his arms. splitting the cards and shuffling them with ease. "you know the rules don't you?" "please i am not that boring to not know how to play this game." you let out a chuckle. you deal the cards, 7 each. an idea pops into your head. "well, how about we do drinking and uno. get your stash of liquour out hm? " you tell wonwoo. "didn't know you drunk." wonwoo blankly says before walking off and coming back with four bottles of soju in his hands. "what's your tolerance?" he asks you. "uhm one and a half maybe?" he scoffs at that. "you?" you shoot back. "three." - "wow show off."  "you asked me, i respond."

"plus..two." wonwoo joyfully says. "no you plus two!" you answer, "plus another two...HAHAHAHA" wonwoo triumphs "plus....four!" you exclaim, "nooo...YOU plus....uh FOUR!!!" wonwoo rejoices. "awh man.. thought i got you.." you start to sob in your hand, the other picking up eight cards. you didn't care that you two were tipsy, anyways the day after was a saturday so who cares? you were nearly gone and wonwoo was still quite stable compared to you. "skip your turn, its mine ! and uno! so... hah plus another four and I WIN IN YOUR FACE AHAHA," wonwoo cheers. "you must've cheated! you are so mean." you say with a huff.

"alright alright time for you to sleep missy. i'll bring you to the guest room" wonwoo grabs your arms and picks you up bridal style and carries you up the stairs. "goodnght y/n" wonwoo says with a small smile on his face after he places you on the bed. "goodnight y/n" he says. "tuck me in." "ugh….fine.." "can't you sleep here with me?" you ask, grabbing his arm. "no i won't, let me go." "fine. go then..just when i thought i liked you." wonwoo's body stiffens at that. "goodnight, you are just drunk." wonwoo quickly strides out of the room before closing the door in a haste. he decided he'll bring this up when the time was right... but he couldn't help his heart from racing when he heard that.

taglist: @dinosbestie @odetoyeonjun @sdoulc @sunggasm @cersti-mo0 @itsveronicaxxx

@seventeenstanner @butterfliesinthenightsky @monmarguerite

@shuabby1994 @lachinitaaaaa @everyw0nu @lovelywoo @teti-menchon0604 @wonusdoll @iamcool789 @meltinghershey

#seventeenweeklyarticle #caratwritersclub #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonu #jeon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo fanfic #seventeen #seventeen fic

[aww-canon-no]

Let The Children Boogie

Hello.  I’m posting my WIP chapters on here from my Ao3.  Sorry to dash flood.

Let The Children Boogie

Prologue/?

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Side ship- Robin/Nancy

Future fic, post canon, fix it everyone (almost) lives, trauma recovery, HoH Eddie, Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening

on Ao3

Summary: 

A first apartment: Six people, four bedrooms, 533 miles from where the world tried to end.

And they're ready for the rest of what life is supposed to be.

*** 

It starts with a wad of cash, a key…

And a question. There’s a guy mowing a lawn about ten feet away so Eddie has to squint and read Steve’s lips when he asks:

“How would you feel about getting the fuck out of Hawkins?”

Eddie stares at Steve—at his perfect hair and his smile that’s a little more crooked than it used to be, and the dumbass polo shirt that looks so right and so wrong all at the same time. He looks like listens to Donnie and Marie—and honestly Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if he dug around Steve’s room and found a few old albums.

He thinks about the question and then he laughs.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Why are you here tormenting me?”

Eddie’s dreamt of getting the hell out long before he was the serial killing freak who was exonerated, but everyone still kind of hates even though they know all about the curse, and the monsters, and…everything.

Eddie’s wanted to escape since he was twelve and his dad beat the absolute fuck—and hearing—out of him after finding a magazine under his bed that didn’t have naked girls inside. No. It had…others.

And Eddie had no excuses.

He was knocked unconscious and woke up in the hospital with bleeding ears and a doctor writing him a note saying that he was going to live with his uncle and his hearing would return in a few weeks, after the swelling went down. He’d stop being so dizzy all the time, the doctor assured him.

It didn’t happen that way at all, and that was the first time Eddie realized curses were real.

He got by. He made do. He sucked at lipreading so he just let everyone believe he was a useless loser kid who didn’t want to pay attention. He scraped by on pity Cs until high school when his teachers suddenly all decided they wanted to make an example out of him.

Two years and a bunch of murders and he was finally—finally—done.

He was pretty sure that last D was also pity, but at least for that one, he was able to say he helped saved the world.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks when Steve doesn’t answer his first question, because yeah, it’s a dumbass one. Steve isn’t there to torture him. Steve is the one who holds him together on nights Eddie’s a billion percent sure he’s about to fall apart.

“I got us an apartment in Atlanta,” Steve says, leaning in close. He’s never asked Eddie if he’s deaf but he’s pretty sure Steve figured it out a long time ago.

For a moment, Eddie thinks maybe some cosmic asshole’s playing a trick on him. Steve wants to live with him?

The freak? The weirdo? The mess?

Steve looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well, though. None of them really look okay. It’s been four years and Eddie’s working part time down at Matt’s garage and it’s… not really working out. He has a permanent tremble in his left hand that makes it hard to tighten bolts and shit, and he jumps at every sudden movement.

The kids have all graduated now. Erica’s running Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin broke up when everyone else’s parents moved them across the country and away from Hawkins. Not that Eddie blames them.

He just…misses them.

He swallows heavily. “Steve.” It’s more like a plea than a question.

Steve takes one step higher onto the trailer porch and meet his gaze. “Please don’t make me do this alone.”

As though Eddie has ever—will ever—tell him no.

***

The first time Eddie puts his key into the lock and turns it, he can’t hear it. It’s too faint. But he feels it through his fingertips, a sort of rushing vibration that pools around his elbow and makes his fingers all jumpy. He opens the door and he’s met with the sight of Dustin passed out on a shitty, black vinyl bean bag and Steve unpacking kitchen boxes because of course he’s in the kitchen.

Nancy’s hanging ferns by the window and Eddie’s pretty sure they’re not fake. Robin’s trying to tackle a bookshelf that’s disassembled and looks like it’s partly made out of LEGO.

Max is in the far corner with her back propped up against the wall, headphones on, a fat binder-looking thing on her lap. Eddie knows it. It’s braille. She took her lot in life like a goddamn champ. Better than Eddie ever did.

Steve looks up at him and smiles and jerks his head to the side like he’s beckoning him over. Eddie’s forgotten that he’s holding bags full of sandwiches from a deli down the street, and he tosses them on the counter before walking to the boom box with two tape decks and a CD player that Steve’s parents were going to throw away when they were packing up their house.

They don’t actually have any CDs, but Eddie’s got enough tapes to last them a lifetime.

There’s tiny specks of puffy paint on some of the controls which Eddie knows is Robin’s doing. It lets Max use the thing without having to ask for help.

He feels a weird pulse in the center of his chest as he glances around at the piles and piles of unpacked boxes, then down the hall to the four bedrooms that are waiting to be claimed.

He rummages around and finds Fleetwood Mac, jams the tape in, then turns the volume all the way down before he hits play. He catches Steve’s eye as he surreptitiously puts his fingers over the speaker, then begins to turn the knob up until Steve nods.

Pressing his hand to the counter, he feels the beat in his fingers. It’s not as powerful as he wants it to be, but it’s enough for that moment.

“What’s next?” he asks.

Steve shrugs, then walks around the counter and snags him by the belt loop and tugs until they’re tumbling down the hall and into the furthest bedroom. The largest one. There’s a full sized bed in one corner and a futon in the other, and the dresser Steve took from his parents’ place.

“Robin and Nancy said we can have it,” Steve tells him near his right ear which is the one that has the most hearing. It’s not a lot. It kind of reminds him of listening underwater in the community pool when he was a kid. But it’s something, especially when Steve is standing close and the place is just…

Quiet.

Eddie looks around. Like, properly looks around. Above the bed is Steve’s bat hanging on a bunch of nails.

Below that is an oar.

He’s laughing before he can stop himself, and Steve tackles him to the bed. “Shut the fuck up!”

But he can’t. He physically can’t. He realizes he’s far away from everything that ever made him miserable with the only people that ever really made him happy apart from Gareth, Jeff, and Trey who are…you know. Long gone.

His grin hurts his face as he rolls onto his side, kicking Steve off him but not letting him get far. “Does that shit mean you got dibs on the bed?”

Steve shrugs and props up on his elbow, staring at Eddie for so long, it starts to make him feel all squirmy inside. Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Eddie doesn’t know if he’s saying something and he absently tugs on his ear. Steve reaches for him and pulls his hand away. “There’s room for your guitar.”

It’s a new one. The one he saved the world with—his baby—is long-gone. It got swallowed up when shit hit the town, and a lot of things came back when they sealed the upside down for good…but not that.

Everyone—his own little personal band of freaks—saved up and got him a replica three Christmases ago. Every time he looks at it, his heart beats a little faster. It’s currently sitting in his car, cradled between several blankets in the back seat.

“I’m gonna need a job,” he says, well aware he and Steve are both avoiding each other’s questions and statements.

Steve sighs. “Yeah. We’re all gonna need jobs.”

Eddie flops onto his back and covers his face with one hand. The other one lies between them and it’s not long before Steve takes it. Eddie has never known how to tell Steve how much he appreciates being touched because he spent so damn many years with people avoiding contact with him.

And it wasn’t like he was shy about what he needed. He was always throwing his arms around people and bashing his body into them and they just laughed and pushed him off and gave him space. Like he’d asked for it or something.

But Steve has never…not really. Not since the very beginning.

His palm is warm against Eddie’s, and Steve grips him not too tight, not too loose, and he doesn't flinch when Eddie’s fingers begin to tremble.

“I don’t want to work on cars anymore.” He hasn’t heard his voice properly since he was a kid, but it feels kind of thick in the back of his throat with emotion he doesn’t really want to think about.

“This is our beginning, Munson,” Steve tells him. He moves his thumb so it’s pressing to the inside of Eddie’s wrist, and he pushes. Hard. It makes his fingers twitch for a whole different reason than injury and trauma. “We can do whatever we want.”

Eddie breathes out and lets Steve go so he can stretch his arms all the way above his head. He lays the tips of all five fingers against the wall and pretends like he can push his way through it. “I can’t hear shit.”

“I know.”

Eddie turns his head to look at him. “I want to be a musician.”

Steve smiles. “I know.”

He can’t make money doing that, but maybe he can…do something with it? He hasn’t explored the city yet, but it’s bigger than Hawkins with just…so much. There’s so much more outside the walls of their little apartment. Maybe there's room for him and his shitty, strange little dreams somewhere.

“This is our beginning,” Steve repeats.

Eddie hums and drops his arms and lets himself just feel the sensation of Steve lying close.

#Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #HoH Eddie Munson #steve x eddie #Steddie #Steddie Fic #WIP #blind max mayfield

[blaacknoir]

Regarding Homelander, Mirrorlander, and all those fucking mirrors.

My thoughts on this post by @deliciouskeys, @xieyaohuan, and an anon. (Anon please come talk to me about ML.)

I am always going to read Mirrorlander and Homelander as a system, so this post is coming from that interpretation. (And I am going to attempt to not turn this into a fic, although I make no promises 😭) Anyway, it's behind a cut to spare your dashes.

We know that Homelander, back when he was a little boy, when he was still John, created an imaginary friend. Most kids do this, at some point, in some form. But I don't think he stayed imaginary for long.

Imaginary friends are external, in my experience. Their dialogue and actions come from the mind of the child creating them, but they're "projected" into the world around them. This is why you'll see kids playing games with an imaginary friend, or setting a place at the table for someone who's not there, or telling their parents "Mom! You stepped on him!" Imaginary friends are essentially another toy for a child. Now, put a pin in this. We're coming back to it.

Now, if we know anything about Homelander, it's that he was not allowed to be a child. He didn't have toys or books; instead he had a security blanket, which seemed to be the only "normal" part of his childhood. I think if he did attempt to play with an imaginary friend, this was shut down, and fast. So he learned to interact with his friend quietly, in his head. And this, I think, is when his friend stopped being imaginary.

Let's remove that pin now. This is how people in a system communicate, generally speaking. Internally, with nothing to indicate to an outsider that there's a conversation happening. The more conversations John had with his friend (and he was still John at this point), the more real the friend became. Antony says this friend eventually became John's Mom and Dad; what does John know about parents at this point? He knows that they love and take care of their child.

We see in deleted scenes and flashbacks that John was a strong kid and a terrified kid. I think that eventually, in an effort to take care of John, his friend started pretending to be him. His friend began to take on part of the abuse and the scary parts while John watched. (In plural communities, this is known as fronting, and it's nowhere near as obvious as it is in the media.)

As John became the Homelander, his friend became something else too. What constituted "protection" became more and more extreme; he went from being a shield to protect a scared child to a club that forced him forward. This leads to the confrontation in front of the mirror that we see in S3. What the Homelander wants (what he needs) is love. Mirrorlander, on the other hand, is more cynical. He isn't here to make Homelander feel loved or safe. He's here to protect him. If someone loves the Homelander (or, more importantly, if the Homelander loves someone else), that's a weakness that can be exploited. Rather than deal with the mortifying ordeal of being known, Mirrorlander decides it's best not to bother. You can't be harmed by others if you don't let others in.

In a way, it makes a heartbreaking amount of sense.

Now, about the mirrors.

As a child, John had a child's imagination, and that can be a powerful thing. But, like everything else, that was taken from him by the researchers at Vought. The Homelander as we see him in the series, has absolutely 0 imagination. And this is where the mirrors come in. I don't think he sees Mirrorlander in every mirror, but I think they help facilitate conversations. I think it's easier for them to talk with mirrors.

I also don't think he had them put there simply for "abusive pep talks." Homelander wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it held him during a nightmare (what you had with Madelyn was not healthy, my friend), and he certainly wouldn't see a childhood friend as abusive. I don't even think he is abusive all the time. I think there are times when he genuinely helps the Homelander pump himself up for events, or talks him through hard times. (I think, for example, Mirrorlander was looking out for the Homelander during the incident with poor Randy Set Dec.)

The mirrors probably serve several purposes. They probably serve to artificially expand the space, like @xieyaohuan suggested. They're also probably there for sex reasons. But personally? I think that the biggest reason they're there is to help our guy stay in contact with his only childhood friend.

#homelander #mirrorlander #the boys #vought thoughts #they are A SYSTEM and i am going to die on this hill if i have to! #there is SO LITTLE (decent) representation of us in media #so the idea that ML fronts and pretends to be homelander (like we do most of the time) is great to see #i also don't think that he's necessarily responsible for all the bad shit Homelander's done #it's not a jekyll and hyde thing #but there ARE certain moments that i think are definitely ML and i can tell you exactly why #i am so sorry about this 😭 #plural on main? #fuck it #plural on main