#b) stay put and try to make the best of a bad situation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kithtaehyung · 1 year ago

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

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

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

There’s no way.

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

“No fuckin’ way.”

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

“Were they always on this team?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

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

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.

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

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

“Play.”

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

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

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

“And you’re paying me double.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry, love.”

You stare.

“This will be over soon.”

The game is… just a game. For now.

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

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

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

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

That was close. Way too close.

Get it together.

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

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

However.

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

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

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.

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

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

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

“I need you all to calm down.”

“No can do, coach.”

“Not if they aren’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you don’t like it one bit.

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

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.

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

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

“What?”

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

“After what he did to you?”

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

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

“I can’t let that shit go.”

“Yoongi.”

“Sorry, doll.”

“Please just—”

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

Only for him to be just out of reach.

After halftime, it’s a whole different game.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s making you wonder if…

Nah.

That’s still too big a reach.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure? That looked…”

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

Motherfucker.

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

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

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

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

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.

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

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

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

Weird.

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

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

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

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

“You’re whipped.”

“No, you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake.

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud.

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

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

“No! What the fuck—”

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

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

“Babe, we have to go now.”

“No, let me go!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what!”

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

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

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

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

“Stop and just think for a second—”

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

“Dumb as fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.

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

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

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.

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

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

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

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

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

But hope may be a bitch.

So you don’t.

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

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

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

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

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

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”

Oh.

“Your brother’s here, too.”

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

“Umm.. Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“He was gonna—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

And you mean that.

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

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

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is there something you wanna say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“I will.”

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

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

So you leave to go pack without another word.

It’s raining.

Hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes burn.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

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

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

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there.

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

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.

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

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

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

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

Finally. “Hello.”

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

“You’re here?”

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

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

“Not tonight.”

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

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

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

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

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

“No.”

“Go home.”

“No!”

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“…No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your breath cuts like it’s your last.

Shards.

Pieces.

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

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

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

No, no, no. Get rid of it.

Throw it out, all of it, all of it.

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

What did he do, what did he do?

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

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

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

Shit, this is everywhere.

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

“Stop.”

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

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts.

This really, really hurts.

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

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

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

“I got it.”

“Let me do it.”

“Your brother needs you.”

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

It hurts.

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

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

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

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

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

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

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

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

One more. Two more. Another one here.

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

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

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

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

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

“I still need to—”

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

“Do what? I’m helping you.”

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

But ice.

“Who said I needed it?”

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

“You think I’m joking?”

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

“I say a lot of things.”

…Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight what.”

“We aren’t doing this tonight.”

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

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

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

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

“I am.”

“Wow.”

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

“Do you even know?”

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

“That’s cus—”

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

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

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

Fine then.

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

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

“Who asked you?”

Dark liquid drips onto your soul.

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

“That’s what I said.”

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

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

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

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

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, hold u—”

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

“Just listen—”

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

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

“I swear to—”

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

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”

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

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

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”

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

“He’s still home.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

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

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

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

Your eyes are ice.

“Are you.”

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

And Yoongi cracks like lightning.

“Goddamn it.”

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

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

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

“Stubborn.”

“Coward.”

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

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

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

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

“Make me.”

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

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

This is liberation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t make me do shit—”

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

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

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

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

And it’s maddening. “Please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

“I said fuck you!”

“Thought so.”

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

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

“Fuck—!”

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

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

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

“Asshole—”

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

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”

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

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

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

“Make me. Bet you can’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuckin’ thought so.”

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

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

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

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”

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

“What, doll.”

“Please!”

“Nah.”

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

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

Every. Single. Time.

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

“Please!”

“Mm. Not loud enough.”

“Yoongi, please.”

“Oh, we’re saying names now?”

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

“Do it yourself then.”

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

And Yoongi gets a front row seat.

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

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

“Nah.”

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

“You’ll come when I say you can.”

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?”

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

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

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

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

“Then fucking come.”

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

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

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

“I said again.”

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

“Yoongi—”

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

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

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

“Baby.”

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

“Babe.”

“I—I—”

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

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…

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

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

“There you go. Keep going.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Babe.”

“You told me so many times—”

“Breathe, angel.”

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

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

“Like what?”

“Just… Like this.”

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

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.

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

“I’m here.”

“So please don’t push me away.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you don’t make promises but—”

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

“Shower.”

“Oh. Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine.”

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

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

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise.”

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

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

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

“You got hurt cus I said to play.”

“Nope.”

“I wore the outfit that day.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“And lost my friends at the club.”

“No.”

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

“How about we share it.”

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

“Okay.”

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

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”

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

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

“Duh.”

He’s himself again.

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

That’s all you both need to feel peace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scroll, scroll.

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

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

Scroll, scroll.

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

“I love you.”

Time bursts.

Your chest glows.

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

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

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

His eyes.

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

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

“I love you, doll.”

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

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

No.

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

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

What?

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

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

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

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

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

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

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you?

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

He loves you.

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

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

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

“Yoongi, I—”

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

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

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

“It’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knew what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want what you want, doll.”

“Then it’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yoongi—”

“Fuck.”

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

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

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

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

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

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

“What—”

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

Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Taking me so well like this.”

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

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

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

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

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

“Uh uh.”

“Please—please—”

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

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

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

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A secret?”

“Mmhmm.”

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

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

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

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

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.

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

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

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

All of you.

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

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

Every single stop.

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

Swelling, you already feel close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

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

Yoongi only grins.

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

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

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.

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

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

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

“I know.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.

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

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

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

Never close enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi…”

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

“Then… Those three months…”

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

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

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

Oh. That’s news to you.

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

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

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

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

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

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

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

“What if he does?”

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

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

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”

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

Oh. Wait. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

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

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

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

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

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

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

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

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

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

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

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

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

“You did threaten to kick me out before.”

“Huh? When?”

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

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

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

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

“You love it.”

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

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

“Guess what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can!”

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

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

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

And it hurts. It really, really hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

…What?

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

“I wanna do this the right way.”

Oh.

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.

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

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

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

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

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

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.”

tbc. :)

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

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

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

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coco-cinnamon · 3 months ago

Text

Intimate Friends

Warnings: cursing, hinting at smut, mentions of abuse, mentions of violence, mentions of drinking, mentions of an abusive parent, fluff, friends to lovers, slight teasing??, small hints of sex, 18+ MDNI!

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Pogue Reader

Summary: In which JJ and Y/N had been best friends since the sandbox days and they had both liked eachother but, neither of them knew about each others feelings, until their feelings for eachother come out in a unexpected way.

Author's Note: I may make a part 2 if y'all want one!

JJ Maybank Masterlist | JJ Maybank Concepts

coco-cinnamon. please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

You and JJ had just gotten back to your small apartment. The two of you had been out all day with John B, Sarah, Pope, Kiara and Cleo. You had all gone surfing and driving around in The Twinkie all day, just having fun with your friends, no your family. Since JJ had a lot of issues with his father, Luke, you offered to let him stay at your place for the night since John B was not going to be at The Chateau tonight. "Again, thank you for letting me stay, Y/N." JJ said as he sat down on your couch.

"Of course, Jayj." You said with a warm smile as you put your bag down on the counter. "I know my apartment is really small and all but, you are welcome to stay anytime." You said to him as you sat down beside him on the sofa.

"No, no, staying here is perfect. It is better than being with my dead beat, drunken father." He said with a sigh. You frowned. You always felt terrible about JJ's living situation and about his relationship with his dad. He did not deserve to be treated that way at all. He was one of the most caring people you knew, and when you'd see him with cuts, bruises, blood, and scars your heart shattered into a million pieces every time. You just wanted to get JJ out of there as soon as possible. You had always offered to let him live with you but he always rejected the idea because he felt bad for putting more onto your plate even though he wasn't.

"So, are you hungry? I can order us a pizza." You said with a smile.

"Yeah, pizza sounds good, thanks Cupcake." He said with a grin. You smile and quickly walk up and go over to the counter to get your phone out of your handbag before he can see your reddened face.

"I cannot believe we ate all of that pizza." You said with a laugh.

"I can." JJ said. "I was starving." He chuckled.

"So, do you want to watch a movie or something on Netflix?" You asked. He just nodded so you grabbed the remote. The two of you picked a movie to watch and sat together and began to watch it.

As the two of you were watching the film, you began to get cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself to try to keep warm. JJ noticed your attempts to keep yourself warm and decided to speak. "Come here." He said.

"Huh?" You said as you looked over at the blonde boy.

"Come here." He said again but this time he patted his lap. You looked at him in confusion.

"Why do you want me to get in your lap?" You asked.

"Well you're cold, aren't you?" He asked.

"I- well yeah." You said.

"Well then come here, Cupcake." He laughed. You had sat in JJ's lap before but never when the two of you were alone. You did not really know what to expect. You sighed softly before crawling over to JJ and situating yourself into his lap. You sat down at first but then you felt uncomfortable so you shifted in his lap a little to get yourself comfortable.

JJ stiffened a little and he had bit his lip softly. As you began to feel comfortable again, you froze. You felt something poking at you through his shorts.

"Can you empty your pockets?" You asked even though you knew what was poking at you, you were just in denial.

"Uhm.. I don't have anything in my pockets." JJ said with a cough.

"Y- you don't?" You asked.

"Nope.." he mumbled awkwardly. You sat there for a minute, now processing the situation.

"I turned you on?" You asked, a little shocked.

"Mhm." He hummed softly.

"I- but we are friends- best friends. So you have some kind of like sexual attraction for me?" You asked.

"It is more than just a sexual attraction." He sighed.

"It is?" You asked. He sighed and took a second before speaking.

"Look Y/N, I like you. Like really like you. I have for years now." He said. "Since we were little. No matter what girls I was hooking up with or dating, I always wanted you." He stopped and looked away.

"Wow.." You said softly.

"I cannot believe this." You said. "I- I know that this may make things awkward-"

"I like you too!" You blurted out, cutting his sentence off. He looked at you like he was not expecting you to feel the same way. "Like I really, really like you, Jayj." You said with a soft chuckle. He grinned when he herd you say that before pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss started off soft and sweet but then turned rough and passionate.

"How about I show you how much I like you." He said with a devilish smirk. "I would love that." You said with a grin before the two of you kissed again.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, angels!

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call-mi-jinx · 7 months ago

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Theodore Nott X Reader - What of it?

warnings: the war did not happen, arguing, mentions of injury, mentions of hurting, slight hufflepuff hate, fluff

summary: you and theo were best friends. but when you both got accepted into hogwarts but sorted into different house. you made a promise to each other to stay together. after theo made new friends he broke his promise. now you and theo compete against each in quidditch and academically. until he badly hurts you in a match. will he change his ways? or stay the same person he now is?

Main Masterlist Theodore Nott Masterlist

a/n - this is based off of this ask, hope y'all enjoy becos i LUV this idea. ta ta my lovelies! xx

theodore nott x fem!reader

Nott and I had a history. We used to be best friends. Our houses were very close to each other growing up. And we were both accepted into Hogwarts when we were 11. He had run to my house and banged on the door 'til somebody answered to see if I had gotten a letter as well. We were so excited to go to school together. We hoped, prayed and begged that the universe would put us into the same house as soon as we were in the castle.

When Nott was placed in Slytherin and I was placed in Ravenclaw, we both promised each other we'd still hang out together every chance we could.

We both kept our promise. Until he became close friends with Malfoy. That's when the time he'd spend with me began to fade into less and less amounts. Until we never saw each other outside of lesson.

Now, I'm glad he didn't keep his promise. He's turned into a right dickhead ever since he became friends with Malfoy. We're in 7th year now, he hangs out with Malfoy and his lot. And I'm friends with the Weasley twins, Luna Lovegood and Delilah Halifax from my Quidditch team, we also share a room along with Luna. Although I only have 4 friends, I'm fine with it. I like when my circle is small.

It's lunchtime in the Great Hall and all of us are sat together. Although we're only supposed to sit at our House tables, the twins sit with me, Luna and Delilah at the Ravenclaw table. Delilah couldn't have lunch with us today, she decided to get some extra practice before the game later today.

"So Y/N, you ready to get beat at our Quidditch match on Friday?" I shake my head and laugh at Fred's cocky behaviour.

"That's if we beat Slytherin today first. So you should be the ones getting ready to lose cause Slytherin is an easy obstacle to get over." Fred and George mock fear and huddle together. That's until they both had disgusted looks on their faces.

I turned to see who they were giving dirty looks to, and it was perfectly understandable. It was Nott, Malfoy and Zabini. Nott and Malfoy had disgusted looks on their faces while Zabini didn't show any emotion at all. Sometimes I wondered if he was a robot.

"You seriously think you can beat us? We're ten times better than you even if we had only three people on our team." Malfoy laughs at us, Nott along with him. God, they were so annoying.

"That's rich seeing as you got beaten by Hufflepuff last month, and not to be rude to them but we know how bad they are." Malfoy and Nott stopped laughing. Obviously struck a nerve there.

"They cheated, of course they were going to beat us if they were cheating." Hufflepuff did not cheat baring in mind. Nott looked me up and down with utter distaste all over his face. I put my middle finger up at him and turned back to Fred and George.

"It doesn't matter who wins, it's just a game." Luna says to the Slytherin boys, trying to diffuse the situation. They look at her and burst out laughing.

"Oh pipe down Loony Lovegood, go chase some fargles or whatever you call them." Nott's words make Luna look down in embarrassment.

I stand up from the bench and get toe to toe with Nott. I was pissed. I'm fine him picking on me but when he picks on Luna. That's when I get pissed off.

"You better walk away Nott, or I swear to God." I looked at him with pure hate. My nostrils were flared, jaw and fists clenched, my back rigid, shoulders pulled back. He smirked then scoffed at me. What a prick.

"Come on, wasting our time on freaks like them." And with that, they turned away from us and walked to their table. I sat back down with Luna and the twins, and fake gagged.

"Cannot believe I used to be mates with him." The twins laughed while Luna smiled and then continued reading The Quibble.

"I can't either, you're the complete opposite of him. He's a massive dickhead, and you're not." I laughed at George's statement. But when I actually thought about it. I always wondered how and why he became like this. I mean, a lot can happen in 7 years but he changed drastically in the first year and has stayed the same since.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

It was 5 minutes before the match started between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I was quite nervous, I really wanted to win this game. I had my broom in hand and was practicing my breathing techniques to calm me down. I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was Delilah, one of my closest friends on the Quidditch team.

"You're going to be amazing Y/N, don't freak out. You're literally one of our best players." I gave Delilah a tight lipped smile and that's when I heard the music, signaling for us all to come out and onto the pitch.

Ravenclaw flew up first and we all took positions, I was a beater. Then Slytherin followed and did the same, Nott was a beater as well. I just knew he'll try to pull the little trick he did our last match against each other.

Last match, he got one of the Slytherin girls to put a jinx on my broom, causing my broom to try and throw me off of it, but I had a firm grip and luckily I didn't go flying.

The whistle blew, starting the game. I still couldn't get control of my breathing, I don't know what was wrong with me today. I focused as much as I could.

The game was going quite well for us, the score was 50-30 to Ravenclaw. To put it simply we were winning. No one on our team had gotten hit by a bludger, pushed off their broomstick or anything like that. Yet.

I saw a bludger going straight towards Delilah so I flew over to her as fast as I could and successfully hit it in a different direction. She nodded her head at me with a smile but the smile soon turned to fear.

"Y/N! Look-" Before she could finish her sentence I was hit in the head very hard with something and was knocked clean out.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

I wake up in the medical wing, I had no idea how I got here and looked around to see if I could ask anyone what happened. Until I saw the twins, practically running to my bed.

"Blimey Y/N we thought you had died. Took a right hit didn't you?" Fred said, with that cheeky smile he and George always have on their faces.

"Did Ravenclaw win?" Was the first thing I said. God I sound like a right weirdo only caring about a game. Fred and George laughed.

"Jesus Y/N, that's the first thing you think about when you wake up?" I gave George a look and Fred elbowed him slightly while trying to hold back a grin.

"But yes, you did win. And Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor as well." I was confused. It's past Friday? How long have I been out for?

"Wait... What even happened? And how long have I been out?" I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and realised my arm was in a sling.

"Nott hit a bludger to the back of your head. You were out in seconds. Then you went falling and falling and then you hit the ground and you'd be able to hear the sound it made from Luna's house." George explained to me, my eyes widened. What the fuck? I get that Nott and I don't like each other but that is low, even for him.

"And you were out for about 2 weeks. You've never been hurt that long it was like a bloody coma." Fred piped up. He then paused, as if he wanted to say something.

"What? Tell me." George and Fred looked to each other, silently asking each other if they should tell me.

"Nott visited you every day after the match." They both answered in unison. I didn't know how to react. Why would he visit me?

"Did you ever ask him why?" They both shook their head 'no' in unison.

"Didn't want to get a bludger to the head like you did Trouble." Fred's words made me giggle. But the question always stuck in the back of my head for the rest of the day.

Why?

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

It's been around three days since I woke up from my 'mini coma,' as the twins call it. Madame Pomfrey told me that I shouldn't go to Quidditch practice or move my arm until the potion she gave me wears off. Delilah checked up on me whenever she could though, she was very kind.

Luna has been by my side ever since I was allowed to go back to attending my lessons, said she "wanted to protect me." Bless her soul.

She was walking me to my potions lesson, which was second period, because she had a free period and had nothing else to do. While I was walking and checking my bag for everything I needed, she was skipping alongside me looking at the walls and everything around her. She was in her own little world.

When we finally got to the room I had to be in, dread filled my whole entire body. Snape had changed the seating plan and had placed me next to Nott. How wonderful.

I said bye to Luna and walked into the room, Nott was already there. And he was staring at me. God I really hope he doesn't take the piss cause after what he did I won't care that he visited me.

I sat down in my seat next to Nott and got my books and quill out. There was such an uncomfortable silence between us but I did not want to talk to him at all.

Snape began teaching his lesson like usual, until he said that we were making a potion. In the pairs we were placed in. Meaning I was paired with Nott. Could my day get any fucking worse?

We had to make a Wit-Sharpening potion. This is probably what I missed cause what the fuck even is that? And that is when I realised we had to talk to each other.

"You know what to do?" Nott finally piped up. Damn, didn't think he'd actually talk to me unless it was something rude.

"Not at all if I'm being honest." Nott nodded in response. I just stayed sat in my seat and let him make the potion, only passing him things if they were too far out of his reach.

The lesson went by quickly, thank God. And it was also break, so I'd be meeting the twins, Luna and Delilah in our usual spot at the courtyard.

When I reached the courtyard, all of them were already there and my usual seat on the bench was still vacant. Buzzing.

"Hey there girly." Delilah greeted me as she walked up to me and gave me a hug. We both pulled away at the same time.

"First day back going good?" My face answered her question. I looked exhausted and annoyed at the same time.

"Snape changed the seating plan so I have to sit next to the biggest dickhead I've ever had the displeasure of meeting." She immediately knew who it was and let out a slight chuckle.

We both then headed over to Luna and the twins and enjoyed our break. The twins were playing pranks on people, me and Delilah were talking about anything and everything, and Luna was reading an unnamed book. This is how we liked it. Although we were focused on different things, it was still spending time together.

Break then ended so we all had to go to our lessons. Luna and George had DAD, Delilah had Transfiguration, and me and Fred had a free period, luckily.

On our walk back to the courtyard, something popped into my head. And my first thought was to ask Fred.

"Why do you think Nott visited me? Do you think it's just because he felt bad?" Fred raised a brow at me, confused as to why I would even care.

"If you want to find that out, Trouble, you'll have to ask him for that. I groaned. I just wanted to find out without talking to him.

"Why do you want to know anyway? Think he likes you?" Fred gasped and put his hands on his mouth, when he finally took them off his mouth he asked, "Or do you like him?" I slapped Fred on the shoulder and gave him a dirty look. Of course I didn't like him, did I? All I think about is him, but only because he's a prick and all he does is be a dickhead towards me. That's what I told myself anyway.

"I don't know to be honest, it's just... In the past few years, he hasn't cared about a single thing I do. And now I find out he visited me every day while I was in the hospital wing." Fred nodded in understanding and we left it at that.

We finally made it back to the courtyard and sat down on our bench. But, as soon as me and Fred settled down in the courtyard after walking everyone to their lessons, Fred got called to Professor McGonagall's office. Great, he's going to be forever if it's McGonagall. Now I have to spend 2 hours on my own.

I thought I'd just walk around the castle and try and find a new place I haven't been to yet, but I've been everywhere we possibly could go when I used to skip lessons with the twins.

When I turned round a corner, I saw Nott, just leaning against a wall and smoking a cigarette. Gross. That's when Fred's words played back in my head. "You'll have to ask him for that." Maybe I should. Before I could even make a decision my feet were already walking me over to him.

He saw me, put out his cigarette, put his hands in his pockets then turned his body to face me fully.

"What? Want to argue with me bout some-" I cut him off before he could even say something snarky, which earned an annoyed look from him.

"Why did you visit me in the hospital wing?" His face went a shade lighter. He thought no one except Madame Pomfrey had seen him and he had asked her to keep it between them. Then he thought. The twins.

"What of it? It's a need to know basis anyway Y/L/N." With that he turned around and began to walk away. No. Now that I'm here, doing this, he is not walking away until I get an answer. I began to walk at a fast pace to keep up with him.

"Well I need to know, so tell me." It was hard trying to keep up with him, he had such big fucking strides it was hard to keep up.

"No. You don't." It went back and forth like this for around 3 minutes until I heard him groan and was then pushed into an empty classroom. He had locked the door when I had realised we were in a classroom and I was leaning against a desk.

"Why do you want to know so badly? This is the most you've talked to me in years and it's about me visiting you in the hospital wing?" I subconsciously scoffed. Why the fuck was he acting like I had been the cause for the end of our friendship?

"Well I'd have talked to you more if you had let me. But no, Theodore Nott is way too fucking good for me to speak to. You are the reason we stopped talking in 1st year. I tried and tried to keep our friendship, but you were too busy becoming bum buddies with fucking Malfoy. So just answer my fucking question so I can leave." Nott rolled his eyes at me, acting as if I had done something wrong.

"We are not bum buddies." I scoffed at him and raised a brow. I stepped away from the desk and took a step closer to him.

"That's all you got from what I said? God you really have fucking changed. Dickhead." Nott began to get pissed off. His eyebrows lowered and nostrils flared.

"Now just fucking tell me why you visited me." I kept repeating it to piss him off. He ran his hand over his face and looked like he was about to lose it.

"Fine!" His voice boomed throughout the classroom. I took a step back, my eyes wide. I had never heard him shout before.

"You want to know why I visited you? Because I care about you, more than you can imagine and I felt so fucking bad for hitting you with that bludger. I didn't even mean to! And before you ask how come I only just cared now I haven't stopped caring about you. Even when we weren't friends. And it's because I love you! I have ever since start of 1st year." What the fuck? My eyes widened even more and my jaw dropped. Well that was a bombshell and a half.

"I thought we hated each other. And why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Nott laughed, but had a sad look on his face. He took a few steps towards me, we were now toe to toe.

"Because I'd rather you hate me and talk to me, than for you to not talk to me or acknowledge me at all." I felt horrible. All these years. He hadn't hated me, but he had loved me instead. My heart shattered, I had never felt so horrible more than I do right now in my entire life.

"Oh Theo..." I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. I didn't know what else to do. He didn't reciprocate for a few seconds but then I felt him slowly start to hug me back. We stood like that for God knows how long.

We then both pulled away and just looked at each other. I had forgotten how beautiful he actually was. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue-grey. His hair fell perfectly on his face. His jawline had looked like it was carved by angels. He grew up to be bloody gorgeous.

"I'm sorry... Y/N..." Never in my whole entire life had I heard Theodore Nott apologise. Not once. And now the first time I hear it, it's to me.

"I wish you had told me sooner Theo..." My hands move from his neck to the sides of his face. He gave me a small smile and a slight chuckle.

"How could I have told you? I fucked it up for myself. Especially when I said all those things to your friends..." I rolled my eyes, he raised a brow at me in confusion.

"If you just apologise, and actually mean it, then I'm sure they'll forgive you. They don't hold grudges once someone has apologised and realised what they've done." Theo sighed with relief. He looked to the side, as if he was thinking proper hard.

"What?" His eyes come back straight to mine, his face looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know if he should or not.

"So what are we then?" The question took me aback. I didn't know how to answer that.

"Well... I don't know..." I paused, trying to make a plan in my head. "If anything can we just take it slow? Need to wrap my mind around all this." We both giggled. We both looked up to each other and just stared.

I felt myself moving closer to him, and I could see him doing the same. We both paused until our lips were centimetres apart.

"Fuck taking things slow." And with that our lips crashed together. His hands took place on my waist and he squeezed it. My hands were still on his face so I tried to pull him impossibly closer than he already was. My arm hurt slightly, even though Madame Pomfrey told me not to move it I ignored it anyway. The kiss was passionate, but soft at the same time. I think Theo couldn't decide whether to be gentle or not. We both pulled away for air, I opened my eyes and couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry Y/N/N, I mean it. I truly am." I hadn't heard that nickname in years. Only Theo used to call me that. It was reserved only for him, I told everyone else who used it the same.

"It's okay Theo, I was just as bad as you." We both laughed and then hugged each other.

Did not think my first day back would go like this.

#harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts houses #wizarding world #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theo nott fluff #theo nott x y/n

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thelonelyshore-if · 2 months ago

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I imagine some parts of this might be spoiler territory, so answer to the best of your abilities:

If Willow ended up in MCs place and trapped in the town, how would the ROs react to them and which of the ROs would Willow get along with, where would they stay and with who and what kind of deal would they agree to with Dove?

I feel like Willow/Beck/Perri would be a powerful trio

Ohhhhh this is a fun ask. Very, very fun. Not spoiler-y, much, but very interesting to think about. I'll answer under the cut because I'm sure this is going to get a little long!

Okay so I've mentioned this before but Willow in MC's place would be. Bad. For them and for the story lmao. Willow wanted very very badly to get into the 'ghost town', but a) they wanted to do it with MC, and, more importantly, b) they would not want to be trapped there forever.

So Willow would be. Not doing well, in MC's shoes.

I think they would stay with Jay, and then switch to Perri. If Willow and MC had a good relationship they'd be kind of sad staying with Jay, because seeing them interact with Cricket would make them think of the big sibling they left behind. They like Perri, though, so they'd be eager to stay with them.

Beck- Willow wouldn't like them. At first Beck would try to be friendly, but as soon as it became clear that Willow had some kind of weird grudge, Beck would dislike them just as much. Willow doesn't get along well with people who are similar to them, personality-wise.

Croft- Willow hates Croft lmao they hate Croft's vibe and really, REALLY don't trust Croft's magic. Plus I think Willow has read Croft's books and would be a hater--they think Croft is pretentious. Croft would hate Willow in this situation they'd find them pesky and irritating.

Jay- as mentioned, probably positive, if MC and Willow have a good relationship! I think Willow would see Jay as a bit of a big sibling figure if MC wasn't in town, even if Jay and MC are super different people. If Willow and MC's relationship is bad, I think they'd find Jay a little overbearing. Jay wants to keep an eye on Willow on instinct--they remind them of Cricket.

Perri- Willow loves Perri, Willow wants to be Perri's best friend. They love people who are Quirky and are also deeply into magic and cryptids and aliens, so they would have a lot to talk about. However, as mentioned, Willow doesn't like Beck, so that would cause some issues lmao. Wills would just be like...........I need to replace Beck as Perri's best friend. Perri would think Willow is cool! Though they wouldn't like the whole 'hates Beck' thing.

Ravi- they don't trust Ravi nearly as much as they don't trust Croft, but they'd be interested enough in Easthaven's magic and the fog that they'd put up with Ravi. However they also don't like his vibe. They think he's hiding something. Ravi thinks Willow is a funny little clown lmao he wouldn't take them seriously and would find it deeply amusing that they seem to have something against him.

Yasmin- Willow thinks Yasmin is cool! And Yasmin would think they're silly. Yasmin likes people who are a little mean lmao she'd find Willow's whole personality appealing. They'd hang out, though I do think Willow is way too immature for them to ever be like. Close friends.

And for the Doe choice, Willow would do the favor. They wouldn't resist, and I don't think they'd even negotiate all that much--they'd be much too curious about Doe...and also the whole ~deal with the devil~ thing would be too fascinating to pass up!

#asks #willow #tysm for the ask!!#this was super fun to think about #but yeah the story would Not Go Well if Willow was in MC's place #they'd be making enemies left and right

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rafesfavoritegirl · 7 months ago

Text

where currents collide

chapter 2: escape

𓂃⋆.˚ Viv, John B’s younger sister, just wants to escape the chaos of the pogues for a little while, after John B decided she can't come to a Kook party. After a night of tension and betrayal, she seeks some peace on her own, but it’s never that simple when you’re surrounded by the Pogues. What starts as a quiet moment alone on the beach turns into something unexpected when old wounds and new faces collide.

word count 1.1k

Content Warning: Mild language, emotional conflict, sibling dynamics, mentions of substance use, and tension-filled situations.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of family trauma (loss of a parent), emotional distress, mild substance use (marijuana), and moments of secrecy and betrayal.

As I watched everyone leave the house, I accepted defeat with humility. They were always going to perceive me as a little girl. I was disappointed in Jj most of all. He never used to choose sides. But now, knowing how he really felt, it stung to realize he was just like the rest of them. It all left me mentally and physically drained, pushing me to take a nap and escape for a little while from everything that had happened.

༄ ༄ ༄

I woke up feeling dehydrated, still unsettled by everything that had occurred earlier tonight. In an effort to clear my head, I decided to build a bonfire. I do not often get the house to myself, so I figured it was the perfect chance. Stepping into the yard, I spotted the hammock that Jj, John B, and I had put up when we were kids, still hanging from the tree. I grabbed some extra firewood to revive the ashes from the bonfire a couple nights before and headed back inside for a lighter, my phone, and my headphones.

Once I was back in the yard, I started to light the fire. When the flames finally caught, I settled into the hammock, slipped in my earbuds, and blasted my favorite playlist. The cool breeze brushed against my face, and for a moment, I realized maybe it wasn't so bad to have missed out on the chaos of tonight.

Just as I started to get comfortable in the silence combined with the arguments that happened previously, I did not hear the infamous sound of the half-broken twinkie entering the front yard, muffled by the music still in my ears. Once settled in, they made their way into the backyard, and suddenly, I could not ignore the look on their faces. They sat down, unintentionally crashing my bonfire, their eyes landing on me in my relaxed state.

"See? Told you staying home wouldn't kill you," John B said with a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself.

It only fueled my internal anger, making it burn even deeper. How could they sit there, knowing I was still upset? No apology, just laughing and reminiscing about the greatest night they have ever had, like nothing was wrong. Seeing my best friends ignore my existence, continuing to smile and laugh while I sat there in utter silence.

Hearing them all talk over one another, what caught my attention was Kie's voice: "Dude, when Jj brought the gun! I swear we were gonna get arrested," she said, and the rest of them laughed, agreeing with her.

I pulled off my headphones, cutting in. "Wait, what gun? What happened?" I asked, concern and curiosity creeping into my voice.

Kie dismissed me with a casual wave. "It was nothing," she said, laughing as she spun around, her back turned to me once again.

That was it. I stood up abruptly, my frustration boiling over. "Fuck this," I muttered, walking off without another word.

I headed to my room, shutting the door behind me, and sat down. For a moment, I just stared at the wall, my mind racing, trying to figure out what to do next. It took a moment, the silence giving me too much space to think.

༄ ༄ ༄

The bright white full moon shined through my window, and suddenly, an idea sparked. I needed to get to the beach—just to clear my head. I knew everyone was asleep by now, either in the living room or in John B's room, given the lack of space in our house.

That thought reminded me of how I would get there? The idea hit me out of nowhere, like a sudden rush of clarity. I could just take Jj's weed and the keys to his dirt bike. I needed a way to get out—escape, even if just for a little while—and the bike would get me to the beach in no time. Jj would not even notice, right? It was not like he was gonna miss it tonight, or even notice it was gone. Fixating on the thought, I convinced myself I would be back in time.

I knew where he kept everything—he always kept his stash of marijuana in that jar on the communal nightstand, and the keys to his bike were usually tossed carelessly on the dresser. I could not even explain why I was doing it, but it felt like the only way to get some space.

With that thought in mind, I quietly crept toward his room, my heart racing, but my mind set on the plan. I quietly opened Jj's door and paused for a moment, glancing at him as he slept, admiring how peaceful and cute he looked. A rush of guilt hit me—doing this behind his back felt wrong, but I could not shake what he had done. I knew he would be furious if he found out, but I had to go through with it. I tiptoed over to the drawer, quickly sorting through his mess, finding condoms and loose jewellery, until I found his dirt bike keys, weed and rolling paper. I left the house swiftly, starting up the bike, the engine roaring to life. I glanced back at the worn-down house, checking the window to see if I had woken anyone up. Coast clear. I grabbed the items I needed, then rushed out of his room, with everything at hand, I knew there was no turning back now.

༄ ༄ ༄

The moon reflected off the blue ocean as I parked the bike and made my way down to the beach—the same one the Pogues had visited not too long ago during their rioting. A few kooks were still hanging around, but I paid them no mind. I spread out my blanket and got ready to roll up.

I sat there, the mix of marijuana and saltwater breeze filling the air. For the first time in a while, I felt at peace, the worn-down headphones that I had earlier playing softly as I drifted into a stoned calm.

The kooks from when I had first arrived were packing up. Their infamous jeeps slowly rolled off the beach, and a part of me did not care, but another part felt relieved to be completely alone now—no talking, no people. Just silence.

That was until I saw a tall, shadowy figure making its way toward me. I did not think much of it, assuming they would just pass by. But then, without warning, the figure sat next to me. I was confused—though, in my stoned state, it did not register right away. I glanced to my right and froze. It was none other than Rafe Cameron.

Follow the wattpad, this fanfic will be posted consecutively every week with new chapters! : https://www.wattpad.com/user/rafesfavoritegirl-

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hearts4golbach · 1 year ago

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can you do some hansumfella x black fem reader head cannons?

ABC Fluff Headcanons.

pairing:

Tyler (Hansumfella) x Fem!Reader.

a/n:

based off of a tumblr request, black!fem!reader in mind but not specified.

inspo from @the-coldest-goodbye tumblr.

A- affection. (How affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

He loves staying inside and ordering food and watching a movie for dates. he doesn't mind going out if you want to, but he prefers staying in on dates. whenever he has the chance, he brings you flowers. he shows his affection through quality time, so he spends as much time with you as he can. whether it be sleeping on the phone or just sitting in silence with you, he loves it.

B- Best friend. (What would they be like as best friend? How would the friendship start?)

you'd bond over movies and similar interests in that realm. he'd invite you to join his stream to either chat or play games with him. you met him at the gym or his old job.

C- Cuddles. (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

if you aren't sleeping and just watching a movie, he would like to spoon. he'd be the big spoon, of course. if you're about to sleep, he likes it whenever you lay on his chest while he has his arms wrapped around you.

D- domestic. (Do they want to settle down? are they good at cooling and cleaning?)

tyler isn't the type to want to jump around to a different girl every month. he wants one long-term relationship. he's not necessarily good at cooking, but he can make good food if he really tries. he keeps his living space very clean. He doesn't like it whenever it's not.

E- ending. (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he'd sit you down and explain why he thinks you two shouldn't be together. he wouldn't do it over the phone or text unless you fucked up bad.

F- fiance. (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

it'd definitely take fella a few years. he isn't scared of commitment, just wants to know that you're for sure the one from him.

G- gentle. (how gentle are they, both emotionally and phsyically?)

Tyler would put on the tough guy act for the first few months of the relationship. he wouldn't come to you about his personal issues right off the bat. although, he's very easy with you physically. his touch isn't rough or mean, he feels nothing but love whenever he looks at you. he's definitely all bark no bite physically.

H- hugs. (Do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

he doesn't like long hugs unless you're side or vise versa. he's a quick hug kind of guy. but, he loves it whenever you wrap your arms around his neck whenever you hug.

I- I love you. (how fast do they say the L-word?)

he'd wait at least two months minimum. he'll show you how much he cares for you in other ways. he would blurt it out randomly, and that would be the very first time he would say it.

J- jealousy. (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

it would take a lot to make tyler jealous. he doesn't mind when other guys talk to you or flirt, unless you flirt back. if other guys touch up on you, he pulls you out of the conversation. he doesn't get angry, just worried. he checks on you and sees if you're okay before moving on with your day.

K- kisses. (What are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you?)

he'd kiss you every chance he got. he wouldn't give you a small peck, he'd let his lips longer on yours for a few seconds longer before pulling you away. his favorite places to kiss you would be your lips, cheek, thighs, and shoulder. he'd put his hands on your hips or your neck and cheek when he kisses you.

L- little ones. (How are they around children?)

he's not a huge fan of children, but whenever he spends time with them, he's very kind and funny. he'd treat them like how he treats squash. if they're annoying, he'd honestly try to get out of the situation he's in. but it would be different if they were his own.

M- morning. (How are mornings spent with them?)

fella has a decently structured morning routine. whenever he first wakes up, he's quieter than usual before his energy builds up. if you had stayed the night, he'd lay in bed holding you until you woke up. he'd continue his usual routine, but add you into it as well.

N- Night. (how are nights spent with them?)

he either wouldn't stream that night or do a steam with you included. after the stream is over, you two would lay in bed and talk or watch something. neither of you were fans of staying up to late. if you did, it was spent doing the dirty or drinking together.

O- open. (when would they start revealing things about themselves? would they say everything all at once or slowly reveal things?)

fella would slowly reveal things about himself as your relationship progressed. it'd take a while to work his biggest darkest secrets out of him.

P- patience. (how easily annoyed are they?)

it's nearly impossible to annoy tyler. there's not much you can do to annoy him.

Q- quizzes. (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail or easily forget aspects of you?)

he doesn't forget everything, but he also doesn't remember everything either. he'd remember your favorite song or your favorite make up brand, but he wouldn't remember something that annoyed you that specific day.

R- remember. (what's their favorite moment of your relationship?)

he had gone with you to get your hair done once and has thought about it every day since. he begs to tag along to every appointment because he lives watching the process of you changing your hair.

S- security. (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

tyler is very protective in his own way. he'd stick up for you whenever you ask him to and when you don't. there aren't many circumstances where you need to protect him. you protect him on stream jokingly whenever people make fun of him.

T- try. (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he puts in effort where it's needed. he makes dates special for you, even if it's staying inside. he will never forget an anniversary and makes sure to plan something extra special. he puts a lot of thought into the gifts he gives you. with everyday tasks, he puts effort in subconsciously.

U- ugly. (What would some bad habits of theirs be?)

he would for sure make your mom jokes towards you, then take it back immediately and apologize. it never phased you, so you laughed about it together.

he also sucks at cleaning up after his streams until you force him to, because you know he hates it being a mess for future steams.

V- vanity. (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he's not overly concerned with his looks. he puts effort in though, which is unneeded in your opinion. although, he takes care of his hair like nothing else.

W- whole. (would they feel incomplete without you?)

absolutely. whenever you're not with him, you plague his mind.

X- Xtra. (a random head canon for them.)

whenever you're cuddling, his voice is very soft and how he speaks to you is the complete opposite of how he is on stream.

Y- yuck. (What are some things they wouldn't like?)

he wouldn't like being submissive during sex or in the relationship all together.

Z- ZZZ. (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

he's a quiet sleeper and drools a bit in his sleep. he also twitches in weird ways that always scare you because you never see it coming.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake webber #hearts4golbach #hansumfella x you #hansumfella x reader #hansumfella #tyler hansumfella

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 7 months ago

Text

OI characters with tourette s/o headcanons

This has been a request but I wasn't able to find it again. :(

Featuring: Poe Dameron, Duke Leto Atreides, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley

Poe Dameron: Poe would be the most caretaking of you. This man puts you above anything else, even important meetings with Leia.

Whenever a tourette tic happens, (depending on what the tic is) and how much it may affect the people around you, he will take you into his arms, telling you how nothing should make you feel out of place, especially not your tourette.

If Poe can't be with you at the moment, he would ask BB-8, Finn or Chewie to look out for you. It breaks his heart knowing he can't be with you.

Whenever you feel particularly shy to go under the crowd out of the potential fear of getting weird looks or worse, Poe takes you out for a trip in the Millennium Falcon, visiting all your favorite places and planets.

If Poe and you aren't sharing quarters, he'd send BB-8 into yours for whenever you need some comfort. Ask BB-8 to get Poe and the droid will zip out to get him.

Poe wouldn't spare even a fracture of a second if you'd ask him to stay for the night. Has you in his embrace within a second.

Jake Lockley: Jake fights the urge to pull out a gun everytime he would see people looking at you in the wrong ways.

Jake always carries some meds for you if you think you'd need them.

If some of your tics causes something against him, Jake's face softens, his heart sinks down inside his chest at seeing your regretful gaze looking back at him. Will calm you down, wrapping his arms around you and telling you how strong you are.

Whenever you had a specifically bad day he would drive you around in his cab with comforting music, and if you fall asleep will carry you bridal style back inside your place.

If you think you don't deserve Jake with how good he's treating you, Jake will always prove you wrong, showing you the opposite.

Jake may be the ruthless menace working under Khonshu, but with you he is tame and understanding. Even Khonshu is surprised by how soft Jake could actually be if he really wants to. That stupid god won't understand anyway.

Steven Grant: This man has a whole row of books dedicated to tourette and how it may affects you.

Steven will try his absolute best in making you forget you even have tourette. If you're having your tics(again, depending how strong they are), he slowly calms you down, one hand on your back and the other holding your hand.

“'s okay love, breath with me. Breath. It's going to be alright, 'm here.”

Whenever you're having strong tics or getting looked at, Steven takes you into his arms, wanting nothing more than to shield you.

Just in case, Steven carries your meds and depending if some tics cause even harm to yourself, he has first aid always near him.

He won't get hurt or mad if you insult him because he knows it wasn't your intention to do it, then tries to comfort you.

Marc Spector: He literally is a mix between Steven and Jake. Marc himself has some trouble/drama going on in his life, so seeing you struggling with your tourette is tugging on his heart strings.

Just like Jake, he's ready to throw hands if someone makes a comment about you. Marc hates people insulting others for something they have no control of.

Marc does the same breath in-calm down with you like Steven does, mainly because it helps him with some situations too.

He knows life itself can be a pain in the ass sometimes and your tourette may make things harder, so he's always supportive of you no matter what.

Goes with you to the doctor and makes mental notes of everything that will help you.

Kindly reminds you to take your meds if you haven't already(they all do by the way).

Leto Atreides: Leto will spend 99% of his freetime with you. If he can't, a servant will take care of you, though he prefers to have a doctor near you if something happens.

Leto's guards will keep you safe and make sure no one even gets the thought of saying something bad to you.

The good behaved leader that he is, Leto has strict rules for his guards and servants if you're near them, especially the servants, he wants them to carry the best medicine.

He will always re-schedule his meetings for you, he knows it can be tough for you having those tics, so Leto stays with you all night, all day.

Leto tells his troops to not only defend house Atreides, but also you.

---------------------

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @buckyssugarchick @krakenkitty

@deceasedream69 @lunaana-02 @sugarplumz100 @cordeliaelise @mochiitoby

@mooksmouse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @minigirl87 @chaithetics

Wanna get tagged?

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #star wars #poe dameron #dune 2021 #duke leto atreides #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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sadstonewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Piotr Rasputin/Colossus SFW Alphabet

hi, I'm still alive I promise! Still working on fics, but wanted to throw this out here as a fun little writing exercise with the SFW alphabet! So, without further ado...

taglist: @master-sass-blast @osmiumamygdala @black-but-mildly-sunny @seconds-2-midnight

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Piotr is a very physically affectionate man - pats on the back, a hand up if you’re struggling to climb over an obstacle, a hand on your shoulder and a squeeze as he passes. He would struggle at first if you didn’t like physical affection or were uncomfortable with being touched, but his next go-to would be acts of service. Dishes needed to be washed? Done. Laundry needs to be folded? He’s already on it and put on your favorite show so you can watch as you two pair the socks together; he likes making your life easier if he can.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s the type of best friend who you know that if you go to for help, he’s going to help in whatever capacity he can. That being said, he’s the type to offer you solutions and advice as he’s doing it; if you need to vent, you’re going to have to tell him otherwise he’s going to try and fix it as best he can. The type of best friend to give you a lecture for ending up in a bad situation, but still comes to your rescue even if you're an hour away and it’s 3AM on a weeknight.

The friendship starts naturally, you’re a colleague of his at Xavier’s or a friend of a friend and Piotr just…fits in your life. He slots in and makes a home for himself in your life, and you in his.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’s a big fan of cuddles, although always very hesitant to initiate since he is one - very large and heavy - and two - covered in a hard metallic armor almost 85% of the time. You’re going to have to initiate and assure him you’re comfortable, and only then will he willingly cuddle up.

That being said, he’s a big fan of laying on his back with you nestled up to his side and your head on his chest. He’s got an arm draped over your side, lazily tracing patterns on your skin and holding you close.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

On paper he’d love to settle down, but knows the reality comes with conditions that he could never willingly ask a partner to be okay with. He’s still a superhero, and so many people would still need his help; if he had to choose between a mission where lives are at stake and you asking him to stay, he hates to admit how difficult a decision it would be. He doesn’t know if he could ever ‘retire’ in the traditional sense, settle down and leave the hero work on the shelf, but if anyone could persuade him, it’d be you.

He’s an alright cleaner in the fact he doesn’t make much of a mess to begin with. Piotr always picks up after himself, and is a very big fan of Marie Kondo’s mantra of keeping a clean and tidy space. As far as cooking goes, he’s good at cooking very specific dishes - Russian comfort food, anyone? But beyond that his cooking is a bit bland; the type to eat chicken breasts and steamed vegetables for every meal because it’s quick, easy, and keeps him fueled. You’re going to need to teach him to use seasonings.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If there is one man in the world who gives people too many chances, it’s Piotr. He always wants to give people the benefit of the doubt, the chance to change or improve. That being said, the point where the relationship would end would be if a major boundary was crossed; at that point, it’s time to reevaluate and have a serious conversation about the trajectory of the relationship. It would be awkward, and uncomfortable, because he would never want to intentionally hurt his partner, but also he would be quick to the point. Not wanting to drag it on any longer than it’s already gone.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Piotr likes the idea of commitment, of having a partner to share things with. Not so much having a ‘better half’ but just having someone there for him, and someone he can be there for in turn. It would probably take him 3-4 years of serious dating before he would want to get married, although he’s the type to dream about it around 6 months into the relationship.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

As Colossus, he had to teach himself to be gentle - to not accidentally crush someone’s hand in a handshake or put his foot through the floor with each step - it’s carried over even when he’s not armored up. He’s extremely gentle, very aware of the strength of his hands or how his large frame fills a room and could very easily knock over an end table (or, god forbid, a person) with the slightest brush of his hip.

He would need to teach himself to be gentle with his emotions as well, his frustration or anxiety coming off as overbearing or lecturing at first (again, you’ll need to specifically tell him not to offer solutions when you just need to vent). That being said, he’s not the type that’s prone to emotional outbursts, but rather has the need to channel his negative emotions into action rather than sitting with them and fully processing them.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hugs, is perfect for hugs, hugs his friends often (if they are okay with it). He’s a big bear hugger, the type to pick the other person up by the armpits and swing them around if the occasion calls for it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

As soon as he knows the other person feels the same, he’s going to say it. Not the type to be subtle in his affections for his friends or romantic partners, so at most maybe 6 months into the relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Piotr doesn’t get jealous; if you’re in a relationship together, then he trusts you and knows not to be jealous if you’re spending time with anyone else or aren’t giving him your full undivided attention. He knows you have a life outside of him and your relationship, and he actively encourages it.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be protective. He’s not jealous because somebody is taking up all your attention, but he is absolutely moving and putting an arm around you if you show any outward sign of being uncomfortable; he’s going to physically move you behind him, if needed. He’s going to check up on you when you’re with your friends, a quick text to make sure you’re having fun and then another to ask when you’ll be home; he’ll wait up for you to come home and breathe a little easier when you walk through the door.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If he’s armored up, his skin is cool to the touch and his lips are no different as they gently brush against yours. Butterfly soft, the smallest amount of pressure as if he’s afraid you’ll break under him. He’s a big fan of forehead kisses (it’s the easiest kiss to give when you’re almost seven feet tall) but also kisses to both your cheeks and then a soft, final press of his lips against yours.

Kiss his knuckles, his palms, and he’s a goner. He’s so used to his hands being used to smash through walls and push through obstacles, that the gentle press of your lips against his joints has him stopped dead in his tracks.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Loves kids, is fantastic around kids. He is very large and is the perfect jungle gym for rambunctious children, but also can be very gentle and encouraging with any of the shyer ones who are intimidated by a large man made of metal. He’s still a bit of a stickler for rules and structure, no desserts before dinner and all vegetables must be eaten, but makes up for it by just being a really fun adult that kids kind of gravitate towards.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Piotr’s mornings are typically his busiest time; if he’s not working out in the morning, then he’s preparing for the day ahead with his various lessons. Is a very early riser as well, has an internal alarm clock that goes off at 6AM regardless of whether or not it’s a weekend and makes it so he cannot fall back asleep.

Of course, that leads to morning cuddles if it’s the rare occasion where he actually doesn’t have a million things to do that day. He never takes those mornings for granted, holding you close and inhaling the scent of your shampoo and molding his body to spoon yours. If there’s nothing else to do that day, he’ll spend the entire morning like that.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Piotr’s night time routine is less strict than his morning one, mostly focusing on winding down for the evening and getting comfortable before going to bed. A nice shower, pajamas and a chapter of the latest book he’s reading before turning off the lights and waiting for sleep to come. He tries to avoid any screen time before bed, if he can help it, but absolutely will get invested in whatever show you’re watching and will watch an episode with you before bed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Piotr is a fairly open type of person as far as revealing things about himself, although isn’t the type to say it out of nowhere without a proper relationship being established. If you ask him anything, he’ll almost always give you a straightforward answer, but won’t necessarily give the nitty gritty details until a proper relationship and mutual trust is created.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Patience of a saint, it takes so much to get him to show any frustration beyond general annoyance or displeasure. True anger is difficult to get from Piotr, and is usually reserved for very specific circumstances or people.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He is the type to make notes in his phone if you mention you like a certain brand of something or a specific snack. Those flowers you mentioned offhand? He has a note in his phone and a reminder to place an order to the florist on Valentine’s Day and your birthday. It's an effort, and doesn’t necessarily come naturally to him to remember all the little details, but wants to make you happy so keeps a running list of things that make you happy.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

There’s a moment in the relationship where the dynamic shifts, where it’s less ‘I am trying to impress/entice this person into a relationship’ and it becomes more ‘this is my friend who I love but also am romantically involved with and would tear this world down for’. That moment would be Piotr’s favorite, and it would be a casual moment; the two of you in pajamas, perhaps both in the same room but idly doing your own thing. And it’s then that Piotr looks over at you, in one of his t-shirts and a face mask while you scroll absentmindedly on your phone,and there’s something in that moment when you look up at him and smile that makes his heart clench. There’s nothing particularly special, but it’s you and him and he feels so…at peace in your presence.

It’s at that moment he knows you could ask him to do anything, ask him to jump and he’d ask how high, and it both frightens and exhilarates him to know that you - wonderful, imperfectly perfect you - have this much power over him. A man who regularly faces life or death for a cause bigger than himself as casually as some people court lovers, and he’d throw it all down for the person sitting next to him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’d wrap you in bubble wrap if he could, carry you down every flight of stairs if it meant your safety. Not because he doubts your ability or because he wants to undermine your autonomy, but because the thought of you getting hurt - especially when he could have prevented it - would kill him. If he can’t protect you, what is he? He’s the shield for his team, the battering ram when the situation calls for it, but for you he’ll be an entire suit of armor.

Of course he knows that’s not feasible to always be there to save you, but it doesn’t stop him from always watching you a bit closer, having a hand at your side, or walking on the side of you that faces traffic. If you’d try to do the same for him, step in front of him or try to shield his body with your own - at first he won’t know what to think. He’s so used to being the one to take the hits, and to have someone willing to take them for him? Well, it’s going to take some getting used to, and it probably contributes to him falling for you a bit faster than he usually would.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in a lot more effort than he puts on when it comes to dates and anniversaries and holidays. He has it planned down to the letter - your favorite restaurant, the flowers that you mentioned offhandedly that you liked, and the outfit you said he looked so handsome in. Of course, it’s played off as effortless, just another part of his routine, and you’ll quickly see the cracks start to form if something goes off course.

Just kiss his hand and assure him it’s perfect, as long as he’s there beside you, and he’ll quickly resume sweeping you off your feet.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Stickler for routine, needs structure or else he will quickly fall into bad habits fueled by self doubt. Often questions his place in the grand scheme of things if he feels like he is not fulfilling his role as a protector, and can spiral very quickly into depression or self destructive habits.

Also, he will wear shorts and a tank top no matter how cold it gets. He’s that kid, you know the one.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Piotr’s interesting in this regard - he doesn’t so much care for his looks as far as aesthetics go. I’ve touched on this in previous asks and various drabbles, but he lifts and works out to be strong rather than to look a certain way. It’s functional, and he's more of a strongman than a bodybuilder, if that makes sense. He works out and stays fit because it suits his lifestyle and helps him be the Colossus his team needs him to be, getting ripped isn’t so much the prerogative. Of course, he enjoys looking strong and like he could tear the doors off a car without trying, and he’s the type to change if he notices a stain on his shirt, but for the most part he’s not a very vain person as far as looks are concerned. He dresses for comfort and utility rather than fashion most of the time, but he has the capacity to dress up if needed.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Incomplete isn’t the right word. He’d feel like something was lacking, like he was missing something that would otherwise make him happy, but he would still be able to function. You don’t make him Piotr, just like he doesn’t make you…well, you. It’s an added bonus of having another person around, and it would be great if you were there and he’ll certainly miss you if you aren’t there, but he’ll be able to function without you. He’ll have to, at least that’s what he tells himself.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Okay, so the Russian stereotype of drinking vodka like it’s water is very prevalent, and yeah Piotr’s able to drink a lot and stay relatively sober, but he doesn’t really like the feeling of being inebriated beyond a slight buzz. It’s a dangerous game to get him really drunk, not only for anyone trying to keep up with him, but also for him. Drunk Piotr is a sad, sappy Piotr who is going to hold onto his friends or significant other and cry into their shoulder while forgetting his own strength. He has absolutely broken a few barstools (and a few bars) by getting too inebriated for his own good and completely forgetting that he can smash through most surfaces with little to no effort.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think Piotr wouldn’t be a fan of people who are completely resistant to change or self improvement - he wants to grow and try new things with you! You can be hesitant, you’ll work up to it together and he’ll be the most supportive person in your corner, but to completely shut him down or resist it altogether would really dishearten him. I also think a lack of ambition would really turn him off - if you have a goal, no matter how small, he wants to be there to help you achieve it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Once he settles down and is fully out cold, he does not move. Absolutely still, he’s conditioned himself to not to move or throw out an arm in fear it’ll strike out and break another bedside table. This will be doubled if you are sleeping beside him, he would be terrified of accidentally rolling over in his sleep on top of you!

#colossus #piotr rasputin #colossus x reader #marvel x reader #xmen x reader #stone writings #xmen #marvel #peter rasputin

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badbatchsprincess · 10 months ago

Text

Heated ~ pt.21

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.

Warnings: Smut! Short chapter my b.

IM NOT DEAD!!! woooo! Sorry there's been such a big break from my posting but I'm going to get back into finishing up this story and getting our precious pip back to her pack. Don't worry! And thanks to everyone sending messages and commenting you make my day and really help me stay encouraged to write. So thank you!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, gazing at the somewhat hollow figure of yourself.

The monstrous silver collar weighed heavily on your spirit and collarbones.

You traced your fingers over the indents where you had used a butter knife in a futile attempt to pry it off. Stolen from the mess, of course—it had been confiscated immediately. (Imperials are no fun.)

This followed the explosive outburst after that dreadful meeting in Tarkin’s office.

The fight you put up required multiple troopers to pin you down, with the help of Crosshair to calm you as they forced this constricting collar onto you. Your screams had echoed throughout the entire base like the roar of a Zillo beast.

That was two days ago.

You didn’t even have the strength to get out of bed. It was so dehumanizing to be reduced to this… breeding stock?

You didn’t know.

You couldn’t think about it without feeling sick to your stomach. It made you itch with rage. The fantasies of murdering Tarkin were becoming more gruesome by the hour.

The 104th tried to visit, but you just curled up in bed, trying not to cry. Their voices and concern only reminded you of the 501st. You did your best to stifle your grief. They left with forlorn expressions and a curt shrug from Crosshair when they asked when you’d come out again.

Crosshair tried to nudge you out of bed, but you just burrowed deeper into the blankets, determined to remain in solitude. He sighed and left you be, feeling your despair through the bond.

Now, here you stood in your apartment bathroom, wearing Crosshair’s clothing, poking at the reminder of your purpose here.

Your neck was raw from tugging at the collar; Crosshair had smeared bacta on the open sores that morning, and you looked at the red healing lines.

You were suddenly overcome with the need for your other alphas. You craved the security they provided. Even when you were on the run, doing strange jobs for Cid, you felt secure with them.

You missed their warmth, their hands, their pleasure… your home. You just wanted to scent them again, curl up in your nest, and never leave.

You looked back in the mirror and ran your fingers over the Aurebesh engraved in the metal:

“Property of CT-9904.”

You stared into your own empty eyes and decided enough was enough. The Imperials were winning if they could break you.

Fascist fucks.

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, willing your spirit to lift.

Enough moping.

It’s time to fight.

Grabbing the leather tie belt from the counter, you wrapped it around the large shirt, tying it at the waist to resemble Jedi robes. Then you pushed yourself away from the sink and turned toward the main living space. You grabbed a pair of slippers, hit the door lock, and stepped out into the hallway, making your way to the training center.

Crosshair had been ordered to track down your pack and had to pretend nothing was different. His new team of stormtroopers were inexperienced and desperately needed Crosshair’s knowledge if they were going after the Bad Batch. He had been working with them for the past few days, preparing them for this high-risk mission.

It wasn’t long before the security detail filed in behind you, following Tarkin’s orders. Two 104th infantry men flanked both sides, keeping a respectful distance but serving as a reminder that you couldn’t run far without being caught. You chose to ignore that last detail, but whatever.

Omegas and Alphas pressed themselves against the walls to let you pass. This was the one change you noticed drastically since your little show in the cafeteria and your grand escape from the facility. You were not an omega to be trifled with. You noticed the other omegas didn’t dare meet your gaze. Good. Stay away.

You had a reputation to uphold.

Descending the metal stairs, you floated down the corridor to the training rooms. Inside were endless rows of workout equipment for the regs, but more importantly, the open training mat where Crosshair was running drills with his new squadron. He sensed you immediately and gave you a discerning glance before turning his attention back to his men. However, you scented the alpha you were looking for. On the viewing platform, Wolffe sat watching Crosshair in silence. You filed in next to him, sitting down in acknowledgment.

“It’s good you’re up,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

You sighed. “Can’t let them win. Not even the small things.”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

You nodded in return. “Did it work?” he asked.

You nodded again. “Light turned green. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Good.” He smirked. “I heard all about it from my men.”

You stifled a laugh.

“You would have made a remarkable Republic spy,” Wolffe joked. “Missed opportunity.”

You hummed.

“So, you really had a thing with a reg?” Wolffe asked, turning to face you and leaning back on the bench.

“It was a long time ago,” you said, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Didn’t think regs were your type,” he gestured toward Crosshair with his chin.

“It wasn’t a relationship. Just an… understanding,” you explained.

“I get it.” Wolffe smirked, clearly remembering something fondly. “We may be clones, but we’re still men. Alphas at that… The Republic had a pretty big budget for bunker bunnies.”

You whipped your head around, wide-eyed.

“What?” he laughed. “Your boys didn’t tell you?”

You gawked. “No!”

He snorted. “Yeah, every permanent base, and sometimes they’d bring in a ship for extended encampments.”

You were floored. You had no idea. Then you looked at Crosshair, trying to picture shiny Cross, Hunter, Wrek, Tech, and Echo experiencing that for the first time. You giggled, knowing there was probably some trauma related to that topic.

“What?” Wolffe was amused with your musing.

“I’m just thinking about my pack. Oh god. I can’t believe all of the 501st was getting down like that and I had no idea.” You buried your face in your hands and laughed.

Wolffe laughed too, “You really didn’t know?”

“No!” You shook your head, “I thought quarterlies was like random people!”

Wolffe snorted, “No darling, there was a special sector just for the girls back in Coruscant. They had the whole floor to themselves. Hundreds of omegas.”

You squealed, “Oh my god.”

“Ya know, I recall seeing Echo and Crosshair there a lot now that I think about it. Even your Sergeant a few times I think.”

If your jaw could hit the floor it would.

“Yeah. They liked to pop the shinys early. Get them accustomed to being around omegas at an early stage. Nothing worse than the first rut ya know?”

“And Kamino?” You scrunched your brows.

“Yeah thats where the first ruts happen.” Wolffe said like it was obvious.

“Maker.” You shook your head. Images of your pack loosing their virginity flooded your mind. You felt Crosshair’s curiosity spike the bond. He was probably wondering what had you feeling like that. You could feel his eyes on you from across the room.

“Is that not common for nat borns?” He asked curiously.

“No Commander, it’s not.” You shook your head, “You usually just have it happen naturally, most go through the first heat alone. Then when you’re an adult you might find a partner.”

“Hmm.” He pondered.

You were overcome with images of a young Tech trying to understand his alpha instincts. Probably fumbling around confused… poor baby. You shook your head.

Oh god… Hunter… poor thing with his hyperdrive senses. That must have been so overwhelming the first few times.

Then you thought of Crosshair. There was no way young Crosshair was ever awkward. He probably knew exactly what to do from the start… that man was too cocky to be anything else.

You knew he was a whore from the get go… you giggled to yourself.

You’ll never forget that time on one of your first missions with the batch, you saw the way he finessed an omega into banging in a bar bathroom with such ease. It had your mind reeling for days after that.

You remembered having to rub one out in the marauder fresher to take the edge off after imagining him with that omega for hours. He had come back looking throughly fucked. His hair was mused, his skin glowing from sweat, and the strong alpha scent radiating off of him made the whole ship reek of Crosshair. The others carried on with dinner as usual but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. That’s when your thoughts about your squad had started, actually.

The thought made your body suddenly warm.

Wolffe must have sensed your smell change as he peered at you softly.

“Excuse me.” You said standing and walking towards the mat directly at your mate. Your guards stayed behind with their Commander while Crosshair ordered his squad to keep practicing their drills while he tailed after you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as you lead him over between a row of punching bags.

You just grabbed this hand and slapped the door panel dragging him into the nearest supply closet and shutting the door behind you.

The lights fluttered on as he peered down at you, confused by your sudden behavior.

You felt your heart quicken seeing him in his all matte black imperial amor. It felt so wrong to be turned on by it but, damn did he look good. So tall, so masculine. So… Alpha.

“What, omega?” His voice dropped an octave sensing your becoming flustered through the bond.

You looked up at him meeting his steely gaze. You felt your core pulse, “Echo said you all had developed feelings for me when I first transferred, but I never told you when it happened for me.” You felt your chest starting to heave trying to keep up with your sudden rush of arousal.

His smell was crowding you in a delicious way, like a warm embrace.

He narrowed his eyes at you and backed you slowly into the near by shelves feeling your pulsing through the bond. He could feel your desperation to cum. He could almost smell it.

He raised a brow playfully.

“Remember when we were on Nal Hutta picking up that weapons supply from that shady dealer?” You recounted feeling the steel shelving pressing up against your spine.

“And you had tripped and fell into the baby sarlac hole?” His memory clearly differs from yours.

You nodded, “My shoe had been chewed up and the others left you and me in that bar while they hunted down a pair of new boots for me?”

“Always loosing your shoes huh ad’ika?” He smirked and joked.

“You picked up that omega at the bar.”

He narrowed his eyes not sure where this was going but listened regardless.

You panted feeling the heat radiating through the bond and the wetness growing in your panties, “When you finally found your way back to the marauder, I had finished up dinner with the others… You smelled so good and you looked so different. And after knowing what you were doing…” You remembered the rush of heat that had flooded your cheeks that night.

Crosshair ran a finger lightly along your jaw making you shudder against the shelves.

“What about it, omega?” He trailed his fingers to your cheek where he rubbed your skin softly. He could feel the heat in your cheeks now. It made his trousers tighten.

“Something had changed. I couldn’t get your scent out of my mind. I had to finger myself in the fresher just to get to sleep.” You admitted with a whisper.

He flashed you his teeth in a wicked smile, “That wasn’t even two weeks after you transferred.”

“I know.” You sighed as his hands ran down your sides spreading their strong warmth making you purr and flex into his touch.

“You’ve been imagining me fucking you for all that time?” He asked reaching around to squeeze your bum. You mewled and reached for his breast plate. He slotted his leg between yours pinning your hips to the shelf.

You nodded.

“Poor thing.” He whispered.

“I didn’t ever take advantage of quarterlies because I didn’t want anyone else.” You sighed into his lips.

“You already knew you belonged to us ad’ika.” He claimed.

You nodded pathetically.

“Every mission. Every time you’d come back covered in mud or blaster residue.” You whimpered grinding yourself down onto his leg, “I felt bad hoping you’d need me to patch you up. I just liked being able to scent you.”

He guided your hips up and down his thigh. You bit your bottom lip holding back your moans.

“Why did you tell me this now?” He asked adding more pressure to your core watching your face scrunch up as the pleasure was bleeding into your system.

“I just remembered.” You whimpered, “Then it made me horny again.”

He chuckled, “It’s your heat coming love.”

You groaned as a particularly nice ridge rubbed up against you, “Fuck.” Your head slumped against his shoulder. He used a hand to grab your hip helping to guide you along his thigh.

“Why do you have to look so good in that?” You mumbled.

“In what, love?”

“The armor.” You whimpered leaning up to look at him with bleary eyes.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. You moaned deepening the kiss desperately feeling your orgasm starting to approach.

“You like it, huh?” He smirked pressing kisses to your forehead while he pushed your hips down harder against him. He loved the way you twitched and squirmed under his hands.

You nodded suddenly feel the crest of your orgasm.

Then it all stopped. You whined as Crosshair pulled away only for a moment before flipping you around harshly and bending you over a stack of near by shipping crates. You gripped onto the cool steel as he flipped up the bottom of his shirt you were wearing and yanked your panties to the side before shoving his joggers down and pulling out his leaking cock.

You bucked up against him feeling his tip rub through your folds. You let out a pathetic whimper as he continued to gather your slick… too slow for your liking.

“Alp-“ you were cut off as he surged forwards filling you to the absolute brim.

You both sighed feeling each other so closely and you tried your best to grind back against him but he continued on pinning you to the crates to create a steady rhythm with his hips.

“You were always such a good little medic, cyar’ika.” He praised, “I also would be a little reckless sometimes just so I could feel your hands on me.” He ran his hand up your spine to your neck where he fisted the hair at your nape, “We all did.”

He chuckled thrusting a little harder making you yelp, “Our little omega.”

“Cross.” You whined pushing back against him. The need to come was all consuming and he, like the good alpha he is, could seem to feel it through the bond. He reached down between your legs and starting making circles against your clit making you jump from the pleasure.

“Fuck.” You moaned barking down feeling the crest approaching. You also felt Crosshair start to tense up letting you know he was close. His energy was thrumming through the bond intensifying your own sensations making it nearly unbearable.

Then finally, with a pinched yelp, you bit your lip harshly as you came.

“Good girl.” He praised into your ear.

You slumped against the shelves, letting him hold you up as you regained your footing. With the urge to mate now abated, you began to return to normal.

“It’s coming soon,” you said, looking up at Crosshair with worried eyes.

“I’d be lying if I said I wished we had more time,” he sighed, nuzzling your head. “My brothers will need enough time to make a plan.”

“They can do it, though, right?” You wondered, suddenly feeling skeptical.

“They can do it,” he said confidently. “I just don’t know how we can be ready.”

You nodded, understanding his concern. It was frustrating being on the inside and having no idea what was going on.

A ping broke the silence, making both you and Crosshair look down at his com.

“Nala Se wants you in her lab,” Crosshair said, sounding resigned.

You took a deep breath. This couldn’t be good.

“Try not to fight her,” Crosshair sighed, petting your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

“You’re not coming?” you asked, suddenly filled with anxiety.

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

He nodded and then tilted his head toward the door.

You exited first, grabbing onto Crosshair’s arm as he walked the two of you to the lab. Fortunately, the walk was quick and short. Nala Se’s office was just inside the infirmary, where a few regs were getting their check-ups. A couple of mating bites were being cleaned and treated, while others had come in for deep scratches down their backs. Clearly, the regs had been busy.

It didn’t escape your notice that every single one of them turned to look as you passed by. Crosshair’s presence was intimidating enough, but they couldn’t help but be curious about his mate. You could smell their scents spike as you walked past, clearly intrigued by your unique smell. Some even tipped their noses up to get a better whiff.

Crosshair approached the private lab and opened the door, allowing you to step inside and leave the room of wandering eyes behind you.

“Y/N,” Nala Se’s floating voice made you tense.

You stared at her, keeping your grip on Crosshair.

Crosshair looked down at you before addressing Nala Se. “What did you need my mate for?”

“She’s been ordered to have her remaining birth control dissolved in anticipation of her upcoming heat.”

You couldn’t help but lean a little closer to your mate, feeling your anxiety increase.

“Shouldn’t it just dissolve on its own?” Crosshair questioned. “I’d like to avoid putting her through more stress than she’s already had.”

“While I would normally agree, these orders have come from the Admiral,” Nala Se explained. “He wants to be certain she’s fertile.”

Crosshair looked down at you again. Knowing you both had to go through with this, he gently nudged you forward, and you climbed up onto the exam table. Crosshair stayed close, while Nala Se prepared the injector.

You nuzzled into Crosshair’s chest, and he soothed you with gentle back rubs. You felt Nala Se approach and press the injector to the implant site. With a quick jab, the dissolver was administered, and you felt the cooling medication spread under your skin. You flinched slightly when she pulled away, and Crosshair quickly nuzzled your cheek to keep you still. A small badge was applied, and then you were effectively dismissed.

“Once her heat begins, we will need to be informed,” Nala Se reminded you as you practically yanked Crosshair out of the lab.

In mere seconds, your scenting abilities came to life. Everything around you seemed to brighten. Crosshair’s heady scent enveloped you, followed by the unmistakable smell of regs. It was overstimulating.

You winced as you entered the infirmary. Crosshair noticed and knelt down to get a good look at your wild eyes, sensing your panic through the bond.

“Is it happening?” he asked, looking worried.

You shook your head. “No, no. I just… I can smell everything.”

“Let’s get you back,” Crosshair said, standing.

“Actually, I require your mate for one other test,” Nala Se said, appearing with her holo pad.

“It can’t wait?” Crosshair snarled.

You patted him gently on the shoulder, reminding him to stay calm and that you were okay.

You followed the long-necked alien back into her office, letting Crosshair remain at the door like a glorified bodyguard.

“I require a sample of your DNA,” Nala Se explained, leaving you to stand in the middle of the sterile white office.

“Blood?” you asked.

“Yes,” she blinked before grabbing her tool.

You held out your hand, letting her draw blood from your palm.

“Why are you doing this, Nala Se?” you questioned, watching her take your sample and not the sequencer. “Why would you help these people?”

“The Empire destroyed my home, and they’re threatening my loved ones,” she deadpanned. “I’m not here of my own volition.”

You were shocked she answered at all. You had always thought she agreed to help because of the money promised to the Kaminoans by the Republic. You had no idea they had destroyed everything. You didn’t know she was a prisoner herself.

You nodded. “Then that makes two of us.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sorry this chapter is so short. I'm getting back into the swing of writing with my schedule, and according to my outline this was going to be a short/filler chapter anyways. Buttttt don't worry I'll be posting more regularly again.

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

@sxftiebee

@booksandtitts-blog

@subbing-for-clones

#crosshair #hunter #tech #wrecker #echo #star wars #abo #bad batch #smut #omega

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aneveningsword · 2 years ago

Text

𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑭𝑭 𝑨𝑳𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑬𝑻

pairing: Jordan Li x gn!reader x Marie Moreau warnings: not proofread words: 2500 summary: just a poly fluff alphabet for what it is like dating Marie and Jordan

masterlist

a = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? when it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what?

Jordan is large on physical affection, holding hands in public, kissing on the cheek, and a hand on the small of the back to guide you two. Marie is better with her words, telling you both how much she loves you two with bright smiles and lingering touches. You get the best of both worlds with these two

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

You all sleep in one bed, and though it might be a bit squished you all make it work. Most nights Marie is in the middle with Jordan and you on the outside. But one hand would be touching each person, joint hands with Jordan over Marie while your other hand is wrapped around Marie's waist.

But this is up to change, if one of you has a bad day they are instantly in the middle of being smothered with love.

c = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how do the rest look after them?

It really depends on who is upset, if Marie is upset Jordan and you make her something sweet to eat. What is better than homemade cookies made by your two lovers? You'll put on some classic movie that Marie has never seen but you have seen a million times, cuddle together and just eat cookies.

With Jordan, it is slightly different, when upset they tend to get angry and need a moment to just cool down by themselves. But as soon as they are calm property brothers are on and a cuddle pile is being initiated on the bed.

When you are upset, the pair do whatever they think is best. Just want to cuddle and forget about the day? Count them in. Want to go do something to try and forget about the shitty day? Awesome, let's go to the carnival that has just popped up. Just want to be by yourself for a bit? That's totally fine, message them when you want them.

d = dates; what do dates look like? who usually plans them, or are is it a group affair?

Dates can vary from going out to the movies, to carnivals or to the beach. But you all aren't opposed to staying in, setting up a pillow fort with movies and sweets. As long as you all are together and having a good time, it's a good date in your eyes.

You tend to organise these dates, making sure they fit within the busy schedules of your lovers. But you all try to take a day once a month to just go on a date and have fun.

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?

You are the one who tends to drag Marie and Jordan to family events. You already view them as part of your family so it is only natural you invite them to a big Halloween bash with the cousins your age. To Marie being dragged to these events makes her feel like she has a family again, awaking some small memory fragments of large birthdays she has forgotten. To Jordan, it is refreshing to see a family that does not judge them. Of course, some of your uncles or Aunts might make a comment, but you tend to be quick to shut it down with a glare and a few words.

f = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved?

Serious fights are not something that happens often in the relationship, you all tend to be rather open with one another. But when it does happen it can span hours. There tend to be two fighting parties and one neutral ground, picking sides only ever ends in trouble.

There'll be a period of just animosity, people needing to cool down by themselves for a moment and think over the issue. Then the neutral party comes to check on each person asking if they need anything, being a shoulder to cry on or an ear to rant to. They give some advice and help bring the pair together to talk it out.

g = getting together; how did it all come about? were there any pre-existing relationships between them?

You and Jordan were together first, you had been dating for some time but you both could not help but feel there was something missing. Bringing Marie in took a bit of time, you were the first to warm up to her, while Jordan was a bit more reserved. You felt a similar spark with Marie that you did Jordan, the small rise in your heartbeat and pink that dusts your cheeks when you are with her. But it seemed Jordan was not feeling the same way, almost pushing her away from you both.

It would be a large conversation with Jordan after Marie and you almost kissed after some heated words. You had felt horrible and were quick to ruin your partner to confess. You explained everything, how you had the same feelings for you as you did them. The fear of being called a slut and Jordan breaking up with you was almost debilitating. But Jordan was quick to confess a similar feeling for Marie, while still holding feelings for you.

The conversation extended to Marie, who thought the worst, that Jordan had come to yell at her for what happened between you two. But she was surprised to hear a confession from their mouth followed by one from yours. The beginning was rocky, but your relationship finally feels complete.

h = hobbies; does anyone share any hobbies/passions? how do they include the rest of their partners in them?

Despite all having different hobbies you all find a way to integrate each other into it. Jordan will be gaming on the couch, trying out a new video game they brought. Marie is beside them finishing a drawing she has been working on. And you're relaxing on a beanbag making the perfect friendship bracelets to gift to Emma. You're all doing your own activity but what makes it perfect is just being near each other doing it.

i = in sickness and in health - when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after?

Marie is the more doting of the pair, the one who actually does things to get you better. Going to buy some medicine for you. Making some soup. Make some tea at the perfect temperature for your sore throat. But Jordan believes quality time with you is the best medicine, cuddling you in bed, putting a comfort movie on. They could not care less about getting your sickness. Despite that, they whine when they do get sick from you.

j = joker; who’s got the best sense of humour? do they like to tease and banter with everyone else?

Jordan is banter royalty, teasing you and Marie over anything and everything. Struggling to lift something? Jordans there with some teasing words and strong arms. Accidentally said a word wrong, be prepared to hear it for the rest of the day. Their words come from a place of love and if someone ever expresses it being take too far they are quick to rectify their mistake.

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners?

Marie is the best at reading you both, from a small shift in your attitude or body language. Growing up where she did, one has to hyperalert, picking up on things before everyone else. If she notices a negative shift she is quick to try and rectify it, asking you about it softly. But she won't pry if you don't feel like talking about it.

There is nothing you two can hide from Marie, especially after she gets a better hang on her powers and can feel your heart rate speed up.

l = lavish; is there anyone who really likes to treat their partners/show them off? how do the rest tend to react - who revels in it, and who’s made shy by it?

Jordan has the money to give Marie and you the best gifts they can get their hands on. Looking at a nice dress but expressing that it's a bit too expensive? It's on your bed the next day with a small note. But while Jordan's presents are brought, Marie's gifts are made. She never grew up with a crazy amount of money and after her parent's death, she had nothing. She learned the best way to gift people things is to make them. Beaded necklaces. Charmed bracelets. Collage of you three together. She pours a lot of love and time into the gifts she makes and you treasure them.

m = memories - is anyone more on the sentimental side?

You all are sentimental people when it comes to your relationship. Jordan has a Polaroid picture of you and Marie in bed in their wallet, something they love looking at. Marie's lock screen is a picture of you three on your first date together. You still have all the tickets from any carnival, movie or event you have all gone together.

n = nights; what’s the nighttime routine like when they’re all together?

You all complete your separate nighttime routines, moisturising, removing makeup, taking off jewellery etc. You tend to be the first in bed, snuggling into the covers and enjoying the space you have before your lovers come to bed. Marie loves to slink in next to you, stealing back some covers as she wraps her arms around you with a small smile. Jordan tends to just jump into bed, pulling the covers from your grips so they have a reasonable amount. They'll pull Marie and you closer to them, saying something about feeling left out. Before you all settle for the night.

o = open; how open is everyone with one another?

You all tend to be open with one another about how you feel, what you want, and what's going on. But there are some things you all keep private, viewing it as good to have some things for yourself. If they feel comfortable with sharing something from their past, you are all happy to listen and provide support if needed.

However, if something is making someone upset or stressed you have all spoken about just talking about it save a possible argument that might come from it. The last thing you want is an insecurity to ruin your day when you can just talk about it.

p = pda; what’s pda like with them? is there anyone who loves it, and anyone who’s less fond of it? what actions/words does it manifest as?

Jordan is the biggest on PDA, they love showing you and Marie off, showing that you both are theirs. But there are limits on what happens in public, hand holding, quick kisses, hand in back pockets as far as they go. Anything else is behind closed doors and only for the relationship's eyes.

q = quiet; who prefers to spend their time with their partners out and about, and who likes to spend it at home?

Marie prefers to stay home together, spending the day watching popular movies everyone but she has seen. She enjoys just spending time with her partners in a familiar area, cooking something together and just relaxing.

Jordan on the other hand prefers going places with their partners. Visiting new attractions, going to a club or just taking a hike somewhere. It is not about where you go but more about experiencing things together.

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

In my eyes, Jordan can be a bit of a hopeless romantic. You both just make them feel accepted and safe that they want to be able to give back that feeling of love to the pair of you. This can be in the form of randomly sending flowers with cute notes. Surprise dates to a cute coffee shop. A day in, filled with everyone's favourite movies.

s = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners?

Many might think it is Jordan but to me it is Marie. She's grown up with nothing, no family, no personal possessions, no nothing. It's caused her to get a little territorial due to the fear of losing you both. You both are the most precious things she has and the thought of losing you crushes her. That you may fall out of love with her at some point and just leave her like everyone else.

t = terms of endearment; nicknames! who’s crazy on them, and who do they make cringe? what’re the go-to’s?

You all have different nicknames for each other, it is something you all love. Marie tends to be called beautiful, princess, and honey. Jordan is darling, sweetheart, and sugar. They call you baby, love, sweetie.

u = urge; who’s the most impulsive? who do they loop into their plans, and who entertains their antics?

You are the one to rope Jordan and Marie into your antics all the time. Half the time the others come just to see what happens, if your plan will actually work or if they have to help you out. They happily watch on the sidelines with a goofy smiles, placing small bets on what will happen

v = vacations; how do holidays go? are they big exotic trips, or the occasional staycation?

You're all College students with no money, so staycations are the typical go-to. Travelling around pretending to be tourists, going to typical tourist attractions, taking photos of everything, eating out. Despite it not being much, you three make it worth it.

w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

You all have your own insecurities that you each help each other through. Helping Jordan is full of soft touches and kind words, their insecurities make them feel weak and stupid lashing out at those around them. It is best to allow them a moment before carefully bringing them into an embrace, whispering praise in their ears.

Marie needs more physical affirmation, to be smothered by the love of her partners. To be brought into such a tight embrace she just forgets about her worries.

x = xoxo; who checks up on their partners a lot when they’re apart? do they call, or are texts enough to make them feel close?

Ever since she was given a phone, Marie is constantly texting you both. It's full of emojis and hearts, and at times she sends gifs. She loves checking in, if you are a part expect a good morning and good night text. Small messages throughout the day asking how you are, and what you are doing. She loves to hear about your day.

y = yearn; who misses their partners the easiest (ie, calls them to hear their voices when all they’ve done is run to the grocery store)?

Jordan is a massive sap, while Marie may text a few times a day just to check and make sure you are fine, Jordan is ringing you whining about wanting to hear your voices, demanding to Facetime while they run to the store. They are just so obsessed with you and Marie that they physically yearn to be close to you both.

z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? was anyone more reserved in their want for it?

You were the most eager to pursue the relationship and are the one who brought it up. The idea of a poly relationship was foreign to the pair, something they did not think they would find themselves in. Despite being very nervous about bringing it up not to seem desperate and Jordan to believe they are not enough, it turned out to be the best decision of your life.

#jordan li x reader #marie moreau x reader #gen v x reader #gen v #jordan li #gen v imagines #jordan li headcanons #jordan li imagines #limoreau x reader #jordan x reader x marie #marie moreau imagines #marie moreau headcanons #gen v jordan li #gen v marie moreau

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messedupfan · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 7

Summary: Wanda receives a notice from the Homeowners Association. Y/n goes on a first date with Daisy. And Rachel has her first secret from her parents.

A/N: Yay! Another chapter!! So happy to be writing for this series again. Ugh it was a rough few months but I'm finally getting back on track! Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Please lemme know in the comments! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Wanda mutters to herself as she reads the letter that was taped to her front door. With everything going on, this has to be the cherry on top. She hates living under a homeowners association. She submitted a thorough request for the expansion that she thought was going to get the approval from them. But instead, she was given a rejection with a notice that someone from the association was going to drop by to review the damage and give her a deadline to have it fixed with the original blueprints. She can't even add windows.

She calls Pietro as she angrily gets into her car to update him in the bad news. “I fucking hate that place,” Pietro says. “Alright well, you tried. I will let Y/n know and cancel a few orders for materials. I'm sorry they rejected you,” Pietro sighs on his end.

“Thank you for all of your help,” she ends the call and continues driving to pick up her boys from their sleepover.

Pietro calls you through the radio to meet him at his office whenever you have a chance. You let him know that you will and when your lunch break comes around, you head to his trailer. You're curious as to why he would need to talk to you. The construction team is ahead of schedule and as far as you know, way under budget. Then you think that maybe Wanda told him about your sleepover and worry that he might've misunderstood his sister.

You knock on the door to his onsite office and he shouts that the door is unlocked. You open the door and climb in. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” he shuts his laptop to focus on you and you begin to worry that he's going to tell you to stay away or something. “Wanda's request for the expansion wasn't approved. We have to undo all of the work we started and put it back the way it was.”

You're relieved that the chat isn't about your night but you're upset by the news. “She can't fight back on this?” You ask as you think of the ways that Wanda could get what she wants.

“She could, but it didn't sound like she had the energy to. And since we don't own the home there's nothing we can do about it.” Pietro explains. You nod with a deep breath and tell him that it sucks before leaving the office promising that you'll see him tomorrow.

After work you send Wanda a quick text letting her know what you think about the situation. When she doesn't respond, you assume it's because she's busy with the boys. Instead of checking your phone every five seconds, you get ready for your date. You shower and put on the nicest clothes that you own. You spend time making sure your hair looks perfect and smelling good.

You drive to the address that Daisy gave you, it isn't Phil's house and you're curious why she's staying somewhere else but when she gets in the car she explains that she doesn't want her dad to know anything about her dating life unless it's someone worth mentioning. “That's pretty much what any single parent does,” you say with a small laugh.

“I know, my friend comes from a broken home. I just thought after a few bad attempts of bringing people to meet my parents it would be best to have my own place when I was in the position to do so.” Daisy says as she fixes her makeup in the sun visor mirror. “You look amazing by the way. I had no idea that you cleaned up so well.”

You smile as you take a moment to look at her during the stop light. “Thank you, I try. You are stunning, Daisy. I think I might lose you at some point tonight. I don't know how anyone will be able to look at anything else.”

Daisy tries to hide her blush as she holds a seriousness in her eyes, “I don't care about anyone else. I only want your attention.” You start to lean in to kiss her but the car behind you honks the horn and you realize that the light is green. “Keep your eyes on the road. Wouldn't want to end up in the hospital on our first date.” She places her hand on your thigh, startling you, and squeezes.

“Woah,” you say as you take her wrist and pull her hand off of you. Instead you hold it in your hand and drive with the other. “How was your day?” you ask in order to start some sort of conversation. The two of you find something to talk about the entire way to the restaurant, easing the nerves that had been eating at the both of you.

When you're seated you notice a couple of guys looking over at your table but you don't think much of it. “Oh this pasta sounds good but so does this one,” Daisy says as she points them out on the menu in front of you.

“They do sound pretty appetizing. How about I order one and you order the other and we split it, so we can try both?” You suggest.

Daisy scrunches her face and denies the idea. “Actually, I think I'm going to get the steak,” she says as she browses the menu more. You nod and start to look for something else on the menu.

After the both of you have ordered you're left staring at each other, sipping your drinks. “Can I ask why you wanted to go out with a single parent?” You finally pose the question that has been haunting you since last night.

“I have always kind of wanted to date you,” she shrugs. “You’re good looking, kind, funny, wise, and have a good heart. What more could a girl ask for?”

You fail at hiding the affect her words have on you and grin as you shake your head. “That is a really sweet answer but I'm trying to figure out what you want from dating me. I mean, I have a daughter and she will always be my number one priority. I know that many people aren't okay with that and-”

“I’m not one of them,” she interrupts as she lays her hand on the table top for you to take. You place your hand on her wrist and the two of you hold each other like this from across the table. “I’ve met Rachel. You've had me babysit her in the past. She's a great kid and I love her. I don't blame you for putting her first. In fact, I respect you for it.”

You fill with relief at her words and nod, “Thank you, I just wasn't sure. I mean, you're in your early twenties. You should be young and free and not dating someone like me.”

Daisy shakes her head, “You're not some decrepit person that can't leave the nursing home. You're still young and free and in your twenties. I don’t know what you think people my age do but I've dated plenty of them. None of them want a real connection outside of physical. Honestly, I'm ready to start thinking about settling down with someone. Build a life, y'know?”

You nod and bite your tongue to keep from pointing out how young she is to start thinking about that stuff. You're in no position to say anything because you don't regret the decisions you've made and you know that at eighteen you wouldn't hear that kind of advice. By twenty-two you probably still wouldn't have listened.

Halfway through what turns out to be a quiet meal, you excuse yourself to the restroom to give yourself some space and a pep talk to stop being so awkward. While you're exiting, your phone starts ringing and you answer when you see that it's Wanda. “Hey you,” you greet as you lean on the wall near the door. “How's your night going?”

“It’s going alright,” Wanda says as she puts the clean dishes away. “Did Pietro already tell you?”

“Yeah,” you say sadly. Someone asks if there’s a line and you shake your head and point to the phone. You move a little further away from the door. “How bummed are you about it?”

Wanda sighs, “Pretty bummed but the boys are home tonight so I can’t drink about it. Which is for the best. Don’t want to start that bad habit.” She starts to wipe down her counters. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much, just having dinner with an old friend,” you say as you glance around the wall to see if Daisy is okay. She looks bored and picks up her phone.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry for interrupting,” Wanda says.

“Don’t be,” you assure her, “I could have not answered, you know? It’s not your fault.”

“That’s true,” she drags out the word in confusion. “Do you need me to come up with an excuse for you? I can have you out of there so fast, no questions asked.”

You laugh at the offer, “No, it’s uh, it’s going.” You notice Daisy checking her watch and looking around the restaurant. You sigh as you figure that you’ve been away for too long. Are you avoiding her? You don’t know. “Which I probably should too. I think I’ve been gone too long, I don’t want her to think I’ve ditched her.”

“Oh my goodness! You’re on a date!” Wanda gasps loudly. “You’re an idiot, go back to her. Don’t tell her you took a phone call either. Just say it was an embarrassing bathroom issue or something just… shit, hang up already!”

You can’t help but laugh at Wanda as she rambles on, “Arlight, I’ll tell her all about my explosive bathroom episode.” Wanda makes a noise but tells you that it's perfect. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say as you end the call and walk back to the table. You feel guilty when Daisy’s eyes shine with relief and so you start rubbing your stomach. “I don’t want to be gross but that food went right through me!” You joke and Daisy laughs telling you that it’s fine. “So, are you thinking about having dessert here or should we go somewhere else?”

Daisy hums in thought and reaches across the table for your hand which you allow her to take, “Depends, do you have any dessert at your place?” she asks flirtatiously, almost causing you to have a coughing fit.

You clear your throat a couple of times as you start to avoid her gaze a bit in order to come up with a proper response. An easy let down that will have her laughing instead of feeling rejected. “Well, I don’t know whatever lies Steve might have told you, but I don’t put out on the first date.” Daisy is confused for a second before she bursts out laughing. You join her a little as you’re able to look at her again.

“Ok, I have to admit. I was kind of testing you with that question and you passed with flying colors,” she says once she has settled down, you let her know that it’s a relief. “I’ve heard of this twenty-for seven cupcake ATM machine and I’ve been dying to try it but haven’t had the chance. Do you think we could do that?”

“Absolutely! Rachel loves that thing,” you say as you start to flag down the waiter to get some to-go boxes for the rest of the food on yours and hers plates. When the bill is settled, you and Daisy head over to the nearest cupcake ATM and you help her learn how to use the machine. She takes videos to share on her social media and even a few pictures with you to keep for herself. You don’t ask why she doesn’t post them because you’re happy to not have that conversation right now. The two of you walk and talk while you eat your cupcakes. She is a bit more relaxed and you have to admit that so are you.

When the date has come to an end, you walk her to her door and wish her a goodnight. “Wait,” she stops you from leaving. “I know you don’t put out on a first date, except for Steve Rogers apparently,” you laugh a little at her statement. “But um, gosh I’ve never had to ask this before.” Daisy blinks a few times before gathering up the courage to ask, “Will you kiss me before you leave?”

You are surprised by the request but it is a date after all. “Yeah, sorry,” you say as you step closer to her. This was weird, you’ve never been asked to kiss someone unless there was tension and right now there wasn’t any. You close your eyes as you lean in and kiss her on the lips. It turns out to be a decent kiss but it doesn’t have you craving more. It’s been a long time since you’ve craved someone. At this point you’re convinced it’s just you because Daisy goes in for more when you try to break away. You kiss her once more to try and clear your head but it still doesn't feel right, so you really take a step back. “I have an early day tomorrow, I’m sorry. I’ll let you know when I’m available next.”

“Okay, yeah,” Daisy nods as she wipes her lips. “I’ll see you then. Or maybe you could stop by the Hub. We don't always have to see each other for dates, you know.” You agree and say that you'll try to stop by without promising too much. “Have a good week with Rachel.” She says with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, I will,” you smile back and walk away.

The next morning you go to Jean’s house to pick up Rachel. While you're waiting, you chat with Jean for a bit about nothing important until you notice her acting a little funny. You ask her what's up. “Nothing, nothing, I don't know anything about anything.”

You shake your head and ask in a low tone to keep Rachel from hearing, “Great, who told you about my date?”

“No one,” she says as she fails to hold back her grin and you ask again. “Okay, it was Anna,” she confesses. You drop your head as you shake it again. “In her defense, it's your fault that you chose my favorite restaurant to take her to.”

“Excuse you, I believe I won that restaurant in the divorce,” you say back lightly instead of reminding her that it was your favorite restaurant first.

“Whatever, I was craving it last night and so we got a pick up order and she saw you when she was picking it up,” Jean finished the story. “She’s cute,” she says next and you take a slow breath.

“She took a picture?” you rub your face, upset by the lack of privacy in your life lately. You never signed up to be a celebrity.

“What? You think I was just going to believe her when she said that? I needed proof!” Jean exclaims, causing you to tell her to quiet down. “Sorry,” she grimaces. The both of you wait to hear any sign of Rachel before continuing. “So, how'd it go?”

“It went,” you reply.

Jean rolls her eyes, “Come on, you can do better than that!”

You sigh and sit up as you think about how to describe the date to your ex-wife. “It was good. A little bit awkward. She’s had a crush on me since she was seventeen, so it's-”

“Hold on what,” Jean stops you with concern and fear in her eyes.

“Oh! Sorry, she's twenty-two, completely legal. Um, remember Phil's daughter? She used to babysit Rach before she went off to college?” You try to jog Jean’s memory and it takes her a second to process. She pulls her phone out to look at the picture again and she starts to finally recognize her.

“Oh?” she says as she straightens up and scowls at the picture. “She looks… grown up,” she says slowly.

“Yeah well, she asked me out and Kate kind of encouraged me to say yes. Then I talked to Phil about it and he seemed to be somewhat okay about it,” you clear your throat as you shift uncomfortably from the lack of playfulness from Jean. “It’s not weird… is it?”

Jean shakes her head, “Just, please tell me that you didn't find her attractive when we had her babysit for us when we were doing couples therapy.”

You pinch your eyebrows together and frown, a little offended by the accusation. “I didn't know her when we were married,” you state first as you try to remember that first year that you worked at the bar. You know that you started there at twenty-one but you don't remember hiring Daisy then or even meeting her. Did you?

“Well, that's kind of a relief, ” Jean mutters. “You got the job working for her dad to help us pay the therapy bills remember? And he offered for Daisy to watch Rachel when we needed,” now she is trying to jog your memory but as you've pointed out before, you don't really like to think back on that year. You shake your head as you come up blank. Is Daisy a year younger than you originally thought she was when you met her? The math isn't really holding up here.

“That doesn't make sense, she said that she had a crush on me when she was seventeen. When we met,” you say. “She would be twenty-one now if we met when I was twenty-one.” You try to understand what Jean is saying.

“Honey, her birthday is July second, she turned twenty-two only weeks ago. And you’ll be turning…” she draws out the end to let you catch up.

“Twenty-eight this year,” you conclude as it all starts to make sense now. “Huh, I really should have paid more attention in school.” Jean laughs because she tried every year to get you to focus more on school instead of her or the next get rich fast scheme you always had cooking up. “Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention to her in that way back then, I promise. It’s still kind of hard for me to think of her in that way. Except it’s not like I still see her as a kid I just think I see her as more of a friend,” you explain.

Jean nods, “So it didn’t go well.”

“I wouldn’t,” before you can say anything else, Rachel is running towards you with the things she wanted to bring with her. “Hey, munchkin!” You rise and greet her with a tight hug. She hugs you back just as tight and it warms your heart knowing that your daughter loves you. “Are you ready? Because we have to get to Ms. Wanda’s a little earlier today.”

“Yup, all ready! I have something I really want to show Billy and Tommy,” she says as she moves her bag around. “That’s what took me so long. Sorry, I needed to get it done before we left. I’ve been working on it all week.” You smile, impressed that she worked all week on something to show her friends.

“It’s okay, I got to catch up with mommy,” you say as you tug one of the shoulder straps on her bag. “Do I get to see what you made?”

“No,” she shakes her head before she turns around and opens the front door. “Let’s go!” She hops to your work truck and climbs in.

You laugh and look at Jean, “Have you seen it?”

She shakes her head, “Nope, she wouldn’t let me or Anna in her room because of it.”

“Wow,” you look at her from the entryway of the home and she is sticking her head out of the window calling for you to hurry up. “I can’t believe it, ten-years-old and she already has secrets from us.”

Jean shrugs, “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I know but I was hoping for later. Much, much later,” you say as you wipe fake tears. Jean pushes your arm as she calls you ridiculous, you smile as you pull her in for a half hug. “I better go. I’ll see you next week.” She rubs your back and pats you a couple of times.

“You better update me on your whole cradle robbing situation,” she teases you.

“I should have seen that coming,” you walk away as she calls you a few more names, making you laugh all the way to the truck. Rachel asks what’s so funny. “Your mom is a weirdo,” you say. Rachel agrees and then says that momma Anna is even weirder and you have to refrain from laughing by telling her that’s not nice. She says it’s true and you cut the conversation by playing her music on the car stereo.

You and Pietro work fast in rebuilding the wall so that Wanda doesn't get into too much trouble with the representative from the homeowners association. It was turning out to be easier putting it back together than it was tearing it down. Of course though, now you don't have to worry about removing the wrong thing and causing the entire house to collapse. Everyone lucked out that you and Pietro hadn't started on expanding the floor yet. That would have been a little more difficult to fix up in the short window of time that Wanda was given.

When lunch comes you and Pietro scarf the food down in order to keep working. Especially since the new siding for the house got delivered to the job site across town and the two of you had to go pick it up. The original siding for the house was destroyed the previous weekend when the two of you finally made it that far. Pietro thought it would be best to order new material at the time anyway since they would need it to cover the new extension of the house.

All day you and Pietro are working inside and outside of the house to get the wall repaired with the material that you have available at the moment. Unfortunately, the beams that are needed in order to continue won't arrive until tomorrow. Which means that you are heading home earlier than expected. You slowly walk up the stairs to warn Rachel that you're packing up to leave but when you get close to the boy's room, you overhear them talking about some sort of plan.

You take a small peek into the room through the crack in the door that should have been wide open. Rachel was holding up a notebook as if she was presenting to the boys sitting in front of her. That's possibly what she was working on. You try to get a better look by opening the door a little more but it knocks over a noisy toy and causes the four kids to scatter and pretend to look normal. You give Rachel a weird look as she asks you if you're done working. You confirm and then leave her to collect her things so that you can do the same.

“Hey,” Wanda calls as you pass her office on the way back to the stairs. “Do you have a second?” You look around to be certain that she's talking to you before you approach. She isn't on the phone and no one else is in the hall, so it could only be you.

“Uh, sure,” you say as you step closer. You didn't get to interact much with Wanda today and you couldn't tell if it was you avoiding her or her avoiding you. Last night after the awkward kiss with Daisy, you couldn't help but compare how you wanted to kiss Wanda the night before. Then you started to think that maybe if you got to kiss her, maybe it would feel right. But you couldn't test that theory out yet. Not when you're in too deep with Daisy.

“Just for some peace of mind,” Wanda closes her laptop and focuses her attention on you. “And I don't want to make things awkward between us by saying this but, I feel like it kind of needs to be addressed.” Her rambling has you a little concerned but you let her continue. “I know we've said it to other people but I don't think we've really said it to each other. Um, we are just friends, right?”

There is a slight pain in your chest when she says that but it's the truth. “Of course,” you say confidently. “Yeah, we're just friends,” you state again, this time with an unintentional undertone of disappointment. You clear your throat and look back before stepping in the office a little more. “Why did you feel like that needed clarification?” You ask, against your better judgment.

Wanda looks around her desk as if she wrote the answer somewhere but not a single blueprint can help her. “No reason it's just, I don't know… well, so many people assume things and I just want to make sure we're on the same page. Yeah, that's it. Just, I don't know. Forget I asked,” you don't press for more because you can tell that part of her might feel the way that part of you feels but you aren't quite sure what to do with that feeling.

“Okay, well, we're done for the day, I was about to-”

“How was your date?” she interrupts and your eyebrows shoot up as your mouth shuts.

“Uh it was okay,” you say. You're not used to so many people knowing about your dating life. “I don't see a wedding anytime soon but it was good. We'll probably try to go out again when I don't have Rachel.”

Wanda nods, “That’s fun, that's fun. How um, how long have you been seeing her?”

“Yesterday was our first date, actually you met her. She was the waitress at the, ehem, the bar we met up at,” you say awkwardly. It feels like the two of you are trying to be friends. This conversation doesn't feel as natural as any other conversation.

“I remember her,” she is a little disappointed that you chose someone younger but it's not her life. She might only be feeling this way because her ex-husband cheated on her with a college student.

“Yeah, um,” you start to explain yourself once again but Rachel runs to your side and grabs your hand asking if you're ready to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Wanda who stands from her desk and walks over to you and Rachel to give proper goodbyes. She hugs both of you separately and thanks you for all of your help. You finally make your way downstairs and decide to leave the tools since Pietro already put away the dangerous ones.

You leave the home conflicted by the conversation with Wanda but by the time you get home, you decide to not read into it too much. The two of you are friends and that's all you will ever be.

On Wednesday, the representative from the homeowners association arrives in the early afternoon to inspect the house. On Sunday you and Pietro were so close to finishing the wall but it was going to take another day or two. Wanda was fine with explaining to whoever she had to that it was going to be fine.

She was starting to get fired up again about it being her house so she should be allowed to do as she pleased. Especially when she received an email explaining that the appointment was rescheduled due to them wanting the entire house inspected. Which meant that she had to make sure the house was spotless. Especially the former man cave which she hasn't seen since Pietro destroyed everything. She hadn't known that you and him already cleaned up the mess until she made her way down there.

The space needed some dusting and vacuuming but beyond that, it was clean. Luckily Pietro only trashed the stuff in the boxes that didn't include the furniture or the television. So the room still looked pretty decent, better even without all of the junk on the walls.

As Wanda guided the woman around the house after she assessed the wall, she noticed that the woman was being a little bit flirty towards her. She wasn't sure if she was making it up or if she was misreading some of the woman's remarks. But Wanda was kind of into it. She hadn't been with a woman since her sophomore year of college. Raven Darkholme lived a couple doors down from hers and the two found themselves being left in the common area and locked out of their rooms often. One thing led to another and they dated for a solid six months before Wanda met Vision while taking his class.

“I don't see any issues here, Mrs. St-”

“Actually it's Ms. Maximoff,” Wanda corrects. “I’m not married anymore,” she adds although she wasn't sure if that was necessary information.

“My apologies, Ms. Maximoff,” the woman smiles and looks her up and down before continuing. “As I was saying, other than the obvious incident with the wall which you said you're having repaired, I don't see why my visit was necessary. But I can't deny that I'm not happy to be here.”

Wanda is starting to realize that it isn't in her head at all. “I must admit, I wasn't too thrilled about today, Ms. Romanoff. But it's been a relief knowing that my house is up to the HOA’s standards.”

“Look, I know that this is totally inappropriate and unprofessional but um…” the inspector grabs one of her business cards and scribbles down her personal phone number. “Call me, if you're interested in letting me inspect you.” She says flirtatiously as she hands Wanda the card. The brunette blushes as she tries to hide her grin. That was quite a line.

“I will keep that in mind, but you should know. I'm a mo-”

“Mother of two boys? Yeah, we covered that when we walked around upstairs,” she finishes Wanda’s sentence.

Wanda laughs as she is flustered, “Right, sorry, I'm just. Sorry, this hasn't happened to me in um years.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Natasha says. The two stand in the living room space staring at each other until the blonde's watch goes off, reminding her of her next appointment. “I better get going. I have another inspection in fifteen minutes. I'll let the board know that you're clear and that they don't need to send anything else. Call the business number on there when you have the wall finished and I'll send the paperwork to the board so that they'll leave you alone.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” Wanda says carefully.

“It's my pleasure,” Natasha says as they walk to the front door together. “I hope to hear from you soon.” The woman walks away and this is one time that Wanda is relieved that her boys aren't here with her to witness that interaction. She shuts her front door and bites her bottom lip as she looks at the phone number on the card. Natasha even drew a little heart above the number. Maybe she is ready to start putting herself out there. This just wasn't what she ever imagined.

Chapter 8

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