#I cannot help that you are the only person in this house that is slightly taller than me

[thefiery-phoenix]

HIS LITTLE HOUSEWIFE (YANDERE TAESOO MA X READER)

Not me having delusional fantasies and living in my delulu era of being a housewife for a possessive guy...my sanity is messed up and I think I need help lol. But I'm a huge sucker for wearing those pink aprons and having mittens on my hands while my imaginary non existent husband nuzzles my neck...I really need help at this point...

By no means did Taesoo ever think there would be a time when he would end up falling in love with someone so much to the point that he would literally be willing to kidnap them to ensure they become his. Had anyone ever told him that fine day would come he would have just laughed in their face and would have ended up punching the lights out of them while mumbling something about how he doesn't see the need for love. The years pass by and he'd rather take this to the grave than ever admit it for crying out loud but he felt like he needed a companion in life. A strange feeling of emptiness would settle inside his heart whenever he'd stroll through the streets of Ansan and see people happy with their families, of course, he had his own brat of a student Hudson to consider a son, but what he needed was a partner. Someone to protect and someone to love and that's when he met you

He didn't really believe in the concept of love at first sight but there was something about you that just exuded charm, grace and innocence. You were much shorter than him and he couldn't help but he slightly amused how short you were compared to him, he could literally lift you by your arms like you were a child as his imposing large muscular frame towered over yours. The way you spoke, the way you smiled that beautiful smile of yours, he could feel his heart growing warm and his cheeks getting slightly flushed. His mind would start working in an overdrive and it doesn't really take that long for him to fall in love with you. You're a precious doll in his eyes, you remind him of an innocent little thing that needed his protection. His eyes wandered to your lips, wondering how soft those lips of yours were if he'd kissed them, what sort of cute noises you would be making solely for HIM and him alone while he kisses you and holds you in his strong arms and shields you from the outside world because you're way too precious for that

It won't matter how you've met him, the only ending you'll be having is being with him. He'll obviously ask Hudson to find out more about you to which he'd agree although he cannot help but detect slight amusement in his student's voice when he gets to know about his infatuation and obsession for you but all in all, he honestly doesn't really blame him. What's not there to love about you, he can't wait to have you all for himself, hidden away from the prying eyes of the other lecherous filthy men who dare to eye what's his with no shame whatsoever far away on his mountain in his cabin where it would be just the two of you. He's already imagining how blissful married life with you would be, how adorable you'd look going around the house and taking care of him and the house with your gentle loving personality that he fell in love with. He doesn't think his feelings for you are spiraling out of control, he just sees it as a way of keeping you safe from the dangers of the world. He'd know PLENTY about it because of all the nonsense that keeps happening around Ansan everyday and the things he's been through

It's not an easy change and transition for you when you find out that he's literally kidnapped you and laced your food with sleeping pills under the pretext of having dinner with him one night. Of course, part of him definitely feels bad that he had to slip sleeping pills in your food but his obsessive love for you and possessive tendencies overlap his sense of rationality and whatever logic he had in his mind was gone out of the window as his mind is filled with thoughts of how all this is for your own good and it's to keep you safe. He knows it'll take a while for you to adjust to your new life with him but he doesn't mind, take all the time you need. He's more than willing to be patient for you and since he treats you with gentlemanly chivalry and would rather bust an artery than hurt you physically or emotionally, it won't be long till you develop the Stockholm syndrome for him

By now you've grown accustomed and used to living with him and the two of you had a small private wedding where only trusted friends of his arrived for the occasion. Of course, he had to resist the urge to literally throttle Jaegyon Na by his neck when he saw him trying to use cheesy pick up lines on you with that stupid smirk of his. Even he got used to seeing you waddle around the cabin in that cute little pink apron hugging your body busying yourself with chores like cooking or other household activities. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck and plants a few gentle loving kisses on your cheeks and lips telling you how much he loves you and holds you tightly in his possessive grasp, like he's worried you'd end up running off at any given second. It was so alluring and mesmerizing to watch you take care of the house, you were the reason he felt like his heart now had warmth. You were the reason his house was now a home with your elegant bright presence

You started getting a bit restless recently. You felt slightly guilty as you watched him come back with a somewhat tired expression at times and you felt like easing his burden and stress. A few days later, the two of you were seated at the table and having the dinner that you made. "My love...your culinary skills are amazing as always'' spoke Taesoo in a gentle tone with a soft smile on his face as he ate his food from his plate. He loved having whatever you made for him since it was made with your love and your delicate hands, what sort of husband would he be for you if he wouldn't eat his wife's cooking? You smiled but only briefly as your mind was occupied on asking him something that you were slightly apprehensive about and you had that distant and pensive look on your face, looking lost in thought. He instantly knew there was something on your mind, he could always read you like an open book and could decipher your every action and thought

"My dear, there is something on your mind...isn't there?" asked Taesoo as he surveyed your features with calculating eyes, trying to detect whether or not you'd tell him about your thoughts. His statement might have looked like it was a question but it was a formality with the hidden underlying implication for you to tell him about what was bothering you. You let out a sigh and looked at him and fiddled your thumbs nervously. "Taesoo...um...is it okay if I could get a job? Or could I resume my old job?' you asked him with a soft voice and looked at him with a hopeful expression, your heart racing in trepidation for his response, however all you were met with was a pin drop silence which filled you with a slight sense of dread. Taesoo immediately stopped eating and his smile vanished as his expression morphed into a stoic one as he looked at you with a calculated gaze. He always encouraged you to follow your hobbies and your passion but you getting a job was a slightly unexpected turn of events for him, a question he wasn't anticipating but was dreading this conversation with you early on beforehand as he rehearsed his answers for this exact moment

Looking at your soft and innocent and hopeful expression made his heart warm with affection for you but he had to be firm with you about this, as your husband, as your protector. You were his wife, he didn't want you out of your comfort zone and didn't like to entertain the thought of you being away from him for even a single second. He hated to be the one to crush that hope in your eyes but it was necessary, to keep you safe. He took your soft hand in his large rough calloused ones and traced gentle circles on the back of your hand to make it easier for you to handle his rejection of the idea you'd just proposed since the thought of other men being around you and looking at HIS wife with their lecherous gazes made him livid and the mere thought alone made him want to punch a hole into a wall

"My dear, you need not worry about getting a job and stressing yourself out about it. Your only concern is to look after the home and let me provide for you. I make enough for the both of us as it is, I don't see any reason for you to be burdened by a job'' he answered with a gentle yet firm look on his face. You pouted slightly at his response and you looked somewhat crestfallen, which he felt bad about. Your pout was adorable yet it stung his heart at the same time. "I know but...I feel somewhat useless just being at home and barely doing anything all day long, I'm not even doing anything useful and I feel bad seeing you work hard and coming back home all tired and sometimes beat up...I thought I could help out as well so you wouldn't need to worry about me being a burden for you'' you mumbled and averted your gaze from his eyes which narrowed as soon as the words left your mouth

Your words tugged at his heartstrings, yet his mind went back to the traditional role of wanting to be your protector and provider as your husband. Your words and thoughts moved him and touched him honestly, you were already precious enough and the last thing he needed was for you to bear burden on those shoulders of yours. He was slightly hurt you saw yourself a burden, he loved coming back home to you and wrapping you in his arms and feeling your soft touches and just being with you. He wished you could see how much his heart soared with affection and ecstasy whenever he'd come back home to you, making him feel like a true king indeed. However his features softened after a few moments when he saw you averting your eyes from his as he pulled you closer to him and made you sit on his lap and he cupped your cheek lovingly and caressed it and made you look at his eyes

"Hush my love, don't speak such nonsense again. You are by no means a burden for me, you are the reason my house feels like a home. Without you, this place would be an empty shell, like it used to before I met you. You mean everything to me, you are my darling wife...let me take care of you just like how you take care of me, you give me so much comfort and peace by being with me...do not fret about such things'' he answered as he continued to stroke your cheek affectionately with a tender loving look in his eyes reserved only for you, his dear wife who reigned over his heart. "I know...but I still feel like a useless housewife though, I feel like I'm barely doing anything'' you whispered with an insecure look in your eyes. Your insecure look cut through his heart like a knife, it pained him to see you be insecure of yourself and doubt yourself so much like this as he chuckled softly and brushed a few strands of hair from your face

"You do not need to worry about such things, you help me out so much with your love. I feel grateful to come back home to you everyday, where I can feel your soft gentle touches and your love for me. That's more than enough...I do not trust the world, I cannot let anything happen to you my love...society these days is dangerous and I will not risk your safety...I want you to be happy and relax, that's all. You're more than enough for me and by no means are you a useless housewife. You look so adorable with your little apron and mittens and the way you bustle around the kitchen cooking in those adorable dresses of yours...you keep the home running, my lovely little housewife...don't ever let me hear you call yourself useless again'' he replied with a soft yet firm tone and you nodded slowly which made him pleased

In the end, you were forced to give up the opinion of you having a job since there was no way he was going to stand for it but it was all for your safety after all. You were his lovely housewife, who provided him with so much love and comfort he could ever hope for and now that he had for you himself, he'd be damned to let you get away from him. Don't worry your pretty little head about anything and just let him provide for you, you're his darling little housewife after all...

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person. Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny. Y/C ━ Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes) Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )

Word count: 1.8k

The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.

You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water. 

Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck. 

He could be such a gentleman sometimes. 

A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear. 

There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.

But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?

━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear? 

Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.

The Colonel. 

Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission. 

Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates. 

You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home. 

As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry. 

Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.

━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest. 

━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]

━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor. 

━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want? 

He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes? 

A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.

━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking. 

━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in. 

The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.

As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum. 

━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]

Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?

Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager. 

━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?

You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.

━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace. 

Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward. 

━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?

You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed? 

“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it. 

You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all. 

Fuck.

But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.

You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like: 

━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!] 

Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse. 

If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no. 

You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.

König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable? 

Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family. 

Until now.

His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?

The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.

━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.

Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion. 

━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken. 

━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken. 

There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up. 

━ Y/C, we’re moving. 

The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns. 

━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home. 

Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood. 

Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?

━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.

But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.

A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪

[kithtaehyung]

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

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

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

-

-

There’s no way.

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

“No fuckin’ way.”

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

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

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

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

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

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

“Play.” 

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

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

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

“And you’re paying me double.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

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

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

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

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

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

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

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

However. 

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

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

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

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

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

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

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you don’t like it one bit. 

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

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

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

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

“What?” 

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

“After what he did to you?” 

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

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

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

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

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

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

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

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

-

-

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

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

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

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

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure? That looked…”

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

Motherfucker. 

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

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

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

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

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

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

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

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

Weird. 

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

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

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

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

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

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

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

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

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

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what!”

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

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

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

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

“Stop and just think for a second—”

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

“Dumb as fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

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

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

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

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

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

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

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

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

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

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

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

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

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

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

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

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“He was gonna—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

And you mean that. 

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

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

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

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

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

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

-

-

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

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

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

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

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

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

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

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

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

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

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

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

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

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

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

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

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

Finally. “Hello.” 

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

“You’re here?” 

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

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

“Not tonight.”

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

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

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

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

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

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“…No.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

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

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

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

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

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

What did he do, what did he do?

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

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

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

Shit, this is everywhere. 

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

“Stop.”

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

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

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

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

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

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

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

It hurts.

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

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

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

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

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

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

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

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

One more. Two more. Another one here.

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

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

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

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

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

“I still need to—” 

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

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

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

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

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

“You think I’m joking?” 

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

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

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

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

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

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

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

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

“Do you even know?” 

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

“That’s cus—” 

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

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

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

Fine then. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

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

“That’s what I said.” 

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

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

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

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

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

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, hold u—” 

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

“Just listen—” 

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

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

“I swear to—” 

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

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

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

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

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

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

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

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

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

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

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

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

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

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

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

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

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

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

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

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

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

“Make me.”

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

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

This is liberation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t make me do shit—”

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

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

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

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

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

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

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

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

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

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

“Asshole—” 

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

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

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

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

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

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

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

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

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

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

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

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

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

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

Every. Single. Time. 

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

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

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

“Do it yourself then.” 

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

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

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

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

“Nah.” 

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

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

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

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

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

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

“Then fucking come.” 

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

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

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

“I said again.” 

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

“Yoongi—” 

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

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

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

“Baby.” 

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

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

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

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

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

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

“There you go. Keep going.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

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

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

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

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

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

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

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine.” 

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

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

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

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

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

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

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

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

“How about we share it.” 

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

“Okay.” 

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

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

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

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

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

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

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scroll, scroll. 

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

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

Scroll, scroll. 

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

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

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

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

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

His eyes. 

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

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

“I love you, doll.”

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

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

No. 

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

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

What?

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

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

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

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

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

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

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

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

He loves you.

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

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

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

“Yoongi, I—”

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

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

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

“It’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knew what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

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

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

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

“What—”

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

Again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

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

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

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

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

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

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

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

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

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

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

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

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

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

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

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

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

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

All of you.

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

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

Every single stop.

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

Swelling, you already feel close. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

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

Yoongi only grins. 

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

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

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

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

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

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

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

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

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

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

Never close enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi…”

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

“Then… Those three months…”

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

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

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

Oh. That’s news to you. 

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

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

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

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

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

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

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

“What if he does?”

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

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

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

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

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

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

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

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

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

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

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

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

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

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

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

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

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

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

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

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

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

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

“You love it.” 

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

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

“Guess what.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can!” 

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

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

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

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

…What?

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

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

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

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

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

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

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

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

-

-

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

[yoursweetwife]

You entered my sinful life, just don’t leave

warning: female reader, soft Aventurine, Aventurine is called Kakavasha, fluff, kissing, mention of Topaz, slightly suggestive at the end. bad english

P.s I wrote this fanfic before the official art from Hoyo appeared, after that I left it in drafts, since too many stories about this started to appear. Anyway, this is just a cute story before this wonderful man's banner comes out :D

My requests are open!

Aventurine was in no hurry to open his eyes when he woke up. He continued to lie on the large bed, wrapped in soft sheets and enjoying the rays of the sun warming his pale skin.

Out of habit, his right hand ran along the now empty side of the bed. He shivered slightly because of the cold, as if this place had been empty for a long time. Aventurine frowned and gripped the sheets tightly, suddenly a wave of doubt washed over the young man. Was this a dream? However, he calmed down when he heard quiet footsteps approaching the place where he lay.

He tried to hide the smile that threatened to appear on his face when a warm palm touched his cheek. Thin fingers first ran along the skin at the base of the hair, removing yellow strands from the face, then slowly went down along the cheekbone, nose, eyelids, lips…

"I know you're awake, Kakavasha."

A soft voice brought Aventurine out of his sleepy state. Disappointment quickly gave way to a feeling of warmth in my soul. He liked it so much when you called him by his real name, it made him understand that in this terrible unfair world there is a person who cares about him.

Aventurine covered your hand with his own, not allowing you to remove it, and smiled maliciously.

"I wonder how I gave myself away?"

The quiet laugh that left your mouth blessed the player's ears. You adjusted Aventurine's shirt on your body. In his house, this is practically your only clothing, even if you have a lot of your own things here, considering that you often spend the night with him. But by the way the blond stares at you, especially after a shower, you can understand that he loves it when you do this.

"The smile on your whole face gave you away. Shouldn't a poker player be able to not show emotions?"

Aventurine chuckled cheerfully. As a person who intrigues with his incomprehensible behavior, he really cannot control himself around his lover.

“It’s hard not to smile knowing that I got this treasure.”

Aventurine ran his hand over your collarbone, a slight shiver running through your body as his cold fingers touched your soft skin. His long fingers rested on a necklace of aventurine, his birthstone. This is exactly what he gave you in the third year of friendship, it’s surprising that you kept it for so long.

"You're making me blush again. Better get up before I call Topaz."

It was funny to see how Aventurine's face turned sour at the mention of Topaz. Unfortunately, your threats were not a bluff. Angry Topaz is not the most pleasant company, especially in the morning. The blond threw his head back on the pillow and sighed offendedly.

"Okay, okay. I'll get up, but only after the kiss."

You sighed in annoyance and lightly hit his bare chest. It's so hard to say no to those puppy dog ​​eyes.

"Just one kiss."

You ignored the blonde's happy sigh and began to slowly lean towards his face. Your soft lips touched him and Aventurine could not stop the satisfied smile spreading across his face.

He gently cupped your cheek with his palm to deepen the kiss, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, Aventurine pouring all the love and passion even into such innocent kisses. You pulled away from his lips. A quiet chuckle escaped your lips as the player reached for your lips with a pitiful moan.

"Satisfied?"

"Mmm no."

Suddenly, Aventurine grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the soft sheets. With a loud squeal, your head landed on the soft pillow, Aventurine's strong arms pinning your arms to the sides of your head, preventing you from escaping. A smug smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your red face.

"K-Kakavasha, you're a liar, I can't believe I fell for it again."

Aventurina laughed quietly and brought his face closer to yours, without looking away from your beautiful eyes.

“And you will fall into this trap more than once, sweetie. We both know that you cannot refuse me.”

His left hand moved closer to your face to brush away stray strands. Your heart beat loudly against your chest; not everyone can see his gentle expression on his face. This showed the trust that Kakavasha had in you.

You chuckled and completely relaxed your body.

"I don't think anything will happen if we're a couple of hours late."

[raparopa]

a/n: i love house of the dragon that's all

warnings: fem!reader, some femslash

when someone at the tournament asks for a sign of attention from their sweetheart

daemon targaryen

Daemon thinks this is funny. What a fearless, and it seems, immortal knight. Of course, he knows that his lover is beautiful, and he also knows that men pay attention to her. When a knight in a tournament asks his beloved for a sign of attention, Daemon ostentatiously, so that everyone can see, holds out his S/O wreath, which he himself chose in front of everyone, nodding with a smirk at the knight, who already regretted his decision.

- Come on, accept a gift from my wife, youngster. Isn't that what you wanted? -For the rest of the tournament, he will taunt in the ear of his woman, pointing to the impudent little knight, who had his head blown off after two races. 💕

criston cole

Criston immediately gets angry. All he will feel is irritation and terrible anger. He can't do anything - he's just a White Cape who can't even throw something offensive at a bastard who dares to covet his beautiful lady. But his anger will subside a little when he sees his beautiful woman in a flowing dress, with flowing hair and ribbons, with a beautiful wreath in her hands - he just cannot help but smile, looking at his goddess. But the knight who asked for her courtesy is first on Criston Cole's list. Let him get ready.

aemond targaryen

He didn't understand at all at first. Tournaments are generally the last thing Aemond cares about, he only came for his S/O. And when some man in armor asks his lover to give him a token, Aemond just:🤨

He looks at his happy, embarrassed companion, then at the impudent one, and silently clenches his fists, waiting for this ridiculous trick on the part of the knight to end. It's not like he's angry... He's ten times more tense, because usually she only smiles like that for him; and when his lady returns to him, he will be silent and look ahead of him for a long time. (slightly regretting not participating in the tournament, you get the idea)

aegon targaryen

In the morning a knight fights with a wreath from his wife on a spear; in the evening his head rolls in the mud. It's all.

alicent hightower

She is calm enough, because she knows that this is just a tradition. When she sees that her S/O has been chosen to give her a token of attention, she will smile gently at her, nod her head, and I think she will be proud that she has got such a beautiful treasure for a long time. When her lady returns to her, they will imperceptibly join their fingers, continuing to smile and giggle at each other, completely forgetting about the tournament.

lucerys velaryon

Luke is the biggest kitten in the world. PERIODT. 😼

I think he really likes tournaments (he likes to have fun and family evenings in general). He likes to place bets (in secret) on knights, whistle and clap loudly. But he never paid attention to the wreath moment until he had his S/O. When a man asks her to give him a token, Luke is surprised. He will ask her a lot of questions.

- Did he like you? Why did you choose this particular wreath? Does he think you are beautiful? And you him? What if I asked for a wreath?

-Luke, if you want me to give you a wreath, I'll give you a hundred of them, please don't take it personally.

After such a promise, he will sit with a proud smile and your hand in his palm.

jacaerys velaryon

He is surprised. He doesn't even want to let go of his S/O's hand at first, opening his mouth to say something. He sits with his mouth open and large, round eyes all the time, while his beloved, to the general applause, gives the knight her sign of attention. He glances at the man, clenching and unclenching his fingers. When his lady returns to him, he will simply continue to stare at her questioningly, making her laugh.

-Y/N!

- Do you want flowers in your hair too, honey?

rhaenyra targaryen

If the word "pride" was a person, it would be Rhaenyra. She proudly raises her chin, grins at the knight, as if showing with whom this wonderful S/O is here today, and the rest of the time in general, too. She has a beautiful companion, in silks and gold, who makes these unworthy ones drool over her. She perfectly remembers such moments in her life, and understands how such a request elevates you above other women who did not receive this.

[maissafespace]

I know you.

Shigure Sohma x Reader

synopsis: Shigure Sohma, a complicated man with a lot of secrets, knowing him gave you everything, from love to happiness to frustration and pain. It can’t help that you cannot get away from him.

warnings: age gap relationship. angst. mean!shigure, domestic fluff, heartbreak, arguments, mentions of break up, mentions of cheating (not happening). nsfw. emotional s*x, doggy style, missionary, cream pies, mentions of pregnancy, breeding.

a/n: it’s a brief story for one of the men that has my heart, but unfortunately is in a unique situation with a person I loathe lmao. It’s something that I needed more than anything, I haven't written for some time so I hope it's decent. please like, comment, reblog, tip! thank you for reading!!!!

Masterpost • Masterlist

Living as a zodiac and as a Sohma, Shigure never saw anything beyond the walls of the clan when he was young, and he never thought about it either.

When he was kicked out after the whole thing with that woman and the other as well, he had no option but to. He had to find a house, find a job, a routine to follow, to live a life as a normal human and not one of the zodiac.

In that, he could not forget to fill his own release. How to pass time when he had the time to distract himself.

First, it was his few flees here and there, Mayu as well. But nothing and no one that made him feel less like the dog of the zodiac, only loyal to one woman in mind. No one was ever serious enough or enough in itself.

The appearance of the kids was a welcomed distraction but not ‘it’ yet, it was another failure. Their fights, their presence made him observing of what the zodiac was, therefore made her existence even worse and far more amplified.

When he met you, nothing changed at all at first. You were and are younger than him, just another woman, meeting him during your first year in uni in a random cafe in the city while he was 25.

It took you a bit of time to actually talk to him, to get the glances and looks to have an effect, to have him take you seriously at all beyond an 18-year-old looking at a slightly older man.

Maybe at that moment you were looking for a distraction from the workload as well, he doesn’t know really the motive behind your pursuing.

But he knew that neither of you were actually taking the situation seriously, it was all out of lust, for him to not think of Akito and the curse, for you to probably not think of family and your own problems.

Things weren't supposed to be taken seriously.

Yet, after three years, here he was, thrusting into you deep and hard, groaning into your mouth as he muffled your moans and made everything echo with the slick on your skin.

Your legs spread apart, feet planted on the futon while his hands pinned yours down. Chest against chest. Forehead against forehead.

You knew his secret.

His attraction grew even more after the discovery, you stayed and listened, you stayed and understood, you stayed and didn’t care.

You stayed.

He knew the difficulty in it though, you were a very affectionate person, for years you wanted to hold him, the man that was making your head go crazy but you couldn’t without ending up with the cute version of his dog.

Because while it was at least something, after years, and a title, it was still frustrating.

As he fucked you thoroughly, he could see the way your legs twitched every time to wrap around him and feel the most. He wanted it too, feel your legs tightly around himself, feel your arms around his back and leaving all the marks you wanted.

As he spilled into you, hands firmly on your waist, digging into your flesh as he pushed as deep as he could, he showed you the same amount of want and need. The marks perpetually being left on your skin, everyday you saw them, every time you remembered that none other would fit them as his hands would.

Panting against your chest, he was feeling your nails brushing through his hair, your lips leaving light pecks on the crown of his head.

It was an experience looking into your eyes every time. He never felt as overwhelmed as in those moments.

So much care and love that he probably shouldn’t deserve for who he truly was. He had told you things but not nearly as everything as he should have.

His head was still split into his zodiac and human, but now there was you, thinking of Akito felt like a betrayal each time, he felt shame that he still couldn’t figure out a way to break this curse and shame of feeling a pull that he would never feel with you. It was something unique with Akito, unfortunately and till then, when she called he would be with her as she wished.

While nothing physical had happened, that was the bare minimum. Just his thoughts were near enough awful for someone in a relationship, he couldn't do anything about the chain that tugged when she wished even in moments like these, where he had the only woman who truly loved him unconditionally with him, making love to her.

Much that he only snapped out of it when he felt you push him off your body. Scrambling around with the sheet covering yourself to find your clothes while he just closed his eyes with a sigh, knowing he had fucked up royally, his hand going to his face, eyes looking down with guilt and then at you, putting on his t-shirt and pants with your shoulders going up and down irregularly.

"I'm sorry." Is all he could say.

"It's not enough." You said with a crack in your voice. "I understand, okay? I do, I did for three years but I can't just ignore it every time. I know she's in your head but where am I? Are you wishing it was her? Are you just doing this out of pettiness? Are you just wasting my time? Am I wasting my time with a man that cannot stop thinking of his ex lover even when we are having sex? Did you cum because of her or me? These are all the questions that come to mind whenver this happens, I'm tired of it, Shigure." Tears were freely rolling down your cheeks, looking at him with sadness and disappointment as he just felt guilt. He couldn't even hug you.

"I know it's not enough but I'm trying. I don't want to think of her, I don't want to, I want to be with you. Why do you think we are where we are now? I want you, but I cannot stop that! I cannot break it." He said through frustration.

"And I get it! But you cannot expect me to not be hurt!" You said back to him.

The room fell in silence. When your breathing regulated, you started to walk off to the door, but he held you back by the wrist. "Where are you going?"

Snatching it back. "I will sleep with Tohru. I cannot be with you tonight."

You closed the door behind you. Shigure just fell back into bed, hunched over as he repressed the need to scream in frustration. He didn't want to admit defeat, unfortunately whenever this happens, he would lose you for three days at least.

He could not do anything, he had not found the way to break the curse yet. He was really trying, for you and for him to live a normal life. He was also sure that it will still take time for it to happen after he discovered a way.

He slept sporadically in the night, waking up every hour and hoping to find you back on the other side of the bed, but it was always empty. In the early morning he woke up and walked down to find the kids all up and about, you were with Tohru by her side wearing his long sleeved shirt and his sweatpants, with your hair wet after what he assumed was a relaxing shower whenever you felt stressed.

Tohru greeted him as gently and kindly as always, Kyo and Yuki doing the same with less enthusiasm, you stayed quiet, he only met your eyes briefly, recognizing the puffiness and the slight redness you tried to cover up, looking away as quickly as possible.

The kids knew to not ask. They ignored whatever had happened every time it happened. Breakfast happened as normally as it would've.

When the kids were gone, so were you, locked up in your shared room with him as you worked from your computer, he knew already he had to stay out of it, he stayed in his study room, writing when he could not do nothing but think to how fix things with you this time.

The first two days went exactly as he predicted, each of you staying in your own spaces, not a word said between you two. He felt anger that you got mad at something he could not control at all and frustration that he could understand it. He saw you each day with the same puffiness around your eyes.

The third was not as he imagined, after the kids went to school, he waited for you to walk up the stairs and disappear till they returned, instead you spoke to him. "We need to talk, Shigure."

Those words didn't inspire faith in him, just fear. Hearing his full name from your lips felt even worse, whatever it was, it was not something he probably wanted to hear.

You two sat in front of each other in his studio, in silence, heart racing in both your chests as you tried to find the right way to put it out. But there wasn't a right way, so you just said it.

"We should break up."

Your words felt like a bucket of ice poured onto him. His eyes widened and he spoke without even thinking. "No."

"I'm not asking, Shigure."

"I said no. I'm not breaking up with you, I don't care whatever you have to say about it, I am not ending my relationship with you." He said, anger visible in his eyes. "We are happy."

"If you think happy means having an argument every two weeks because of another woman, I doubt and am scared of your definition." You said with a chuckle.

"Are you unhappy?" He asked directly.

"I'm not happy entirely." You swallowed. "We have our happy moments, I know, everything apart from this is perfect. But I just can't overlook it every time. It hurts, Shigure, I feel it breaking me all the time physically and emtionally." You said to him. His jaw clenched.

"I'm trying, it's not something I asked for. I want to break it as much as you do and live a fucking normal life."

"And how much time is that going to take? A year? Two years? Five? Ten? Never?! I am 21, I am young and have time to start and build something with someone else, Shigure. I'm not wasting time being your second choice, I will want to get married and have children. What will happen then? Akito will have me end up like Kana and then what, Shigure?"

"You're not a second choice-"

"I am if there is another woman in your heart and mind. Because there shouldn't be. I do not have another man pop up every now and then to which I cannot say no, to which I cannot not accept advances from."

"You know, nothing ever happened. Don't start that shit with me, Y/N. You won't end up like Kana, I won't let Akito get close to you, I made sure of that for three years and Hatori knows he cannot. This conversation is over, I'm not breakiing up with you, forget it." He got up and started to walk away.

"Shigure. Shigure. Shigure!" You yelled following after him up till you were in your shared bedroom. "Stop behaving like this."

"I told you I'm done with the conversation."

"But I'm not. Can you not understand that I'm hurting and we have no way to know if this will end up in tragedy or will work out."

"Do you think I don't want that? I just want to have a fucking life, away from that, now that I'm with you. I did think of it, I want to get married and have a family with you, I just need time to figure this out and break it." Tears rolled down your cheeks at the thought of not having that.

You had fallen in the deep end with him.

"I'm not throwing away the best thing that happened to me." He said sincerely, with fear in his eyes as he looked at you. "I know things are not the best right now, but we endured it and I'm not giving up."

You sniffled, frusteation growing in you as well. "What if I want to get married right away?"

"Then we will get married, tomorrow if you want."

"First you'll have to get permission from the head of the family." You spit back at him.

"I don't care. I've been kicked out, despite being called back from time to time, I call all my choices. I'm marrying you, whether you want it or not, tomorrow or whenever you think it's right." He shrugged. Your jaw clenched.

"What if I was pregnant? What would happen then when you get called back, when she finally wants you openly because she will not want you with another? Where do we end up? Shigure, just understand, for once, things will not change." Your voice had some sincerity, his eyes narrowed at it. Looking at you up and down.

"Are you?" His voice was hoarse, in disbelief.

"I said if I was."

"And I'm asking if you actually are." He just looked at your frown, the veil of tears that was buidling up in your eyes as you shut your mouth in a thin line instead of giving him a proper answer. "You are." He said taking a step towards you, as you took a step back.

"I don't know if I'm keeping it, don't get your hopes up, I'm not raising a child in these conditions." Your words held bitterness. "You didn't even want anything when we started our relationship, you didn't want the committment, I'm sure a child was not in it as well."

"Things changed you know that. For fuck's sake we live together, how do I not want committment? With you? I just told you I'd marry you tomorrow if you want. I'm 28, a child is not going to scare me off and make me break up with you. It's just making me love you more."

Your breathing became visibly irregular from the anger or frustration he didn't know. But you had only given him a reason more to fight for you. "Gure, please." You just cried, breaking. "I am scared." Your head fell down, eyes shutting as you cried.

Despite it, he understood. He understood your fears, he understood that you were scared, you were young, pregnant and in a relationship with a man that it's chained to a woman he grew to despise, and that could not touch fully without becoming a dog.

His gaze softened, walking towards you and leaning his forehead down to the top of your head, the most intimacy he could give you, kissing your head. "I love you. I truly and incredibly am in love with you." His hand slid on top of your flat stomach. Your hand going on top of his. "I'm here with you, just hang with me a little more."

You faced him, lips colliding with yours as you locked in a burning kiss. Your hands quickly pulling down his yukata from his shoulders, pooling on his waist as your nails quickly dug into his skin as always giving him indication of your need for him.

It wasn't long after that you both found yourselves naked on the bed, his cock into you as he dug his fingers into your thighs to keep you down and yours in his shoulders in a position where it didn't trigger it.

His length going in and out of you deeply, whispering sweet things into your ears as you just moaned his name, making something snap in him, something he wasn't quite sure of.

"Mine, mine..." He repeated as changed and pounded from behind you, his hand keeping your head to the side, looking at you fucked out state as he erased any idea of breaking up from your mind.

He felt the pull, growing restless to have his attention, but he just couldn't, he was caught up, he had you, he had you forever, and with you he had a child that was enlarging his own proper family, that tied you in a way that he cannot be tied with anyone else, his dream of a normal life with you and away from everything else.

A tear fell down his cheek as you moaned out his name coming on his cock as he kept going in and out of you sloppily, reaching his own point of release as he came deep in you, spilling his seed in you once again, feeling the knot releasing and something completely breaking in him.

You both panted for air, crying silently and he fell on you, the urge in him to hug you tightly.

So he did, he hugged you.

[melonn-soda]

If you’re accepting requests? Then may I please request a Ayato Kamisato x Male reader? Where Reader has been secretly harbouring feeling for Ayato, but they aren’t able to confess their feeling and the harsh reality that the reader isn’t of any high lineage: they just have a Dendro vision. Also a rumor has been going around, saying that Ayato is to marry a noble. So the reader resigns their feeling for Ayato, secretly wishing him a happy marriage and life. Soon after a few weeks come to past, and the reader hears that they are going to be in arrange marriage with a former warlord. But the reader is actually happily okay with it, since it will help his family live in peace. But… its not long before Kamisato siblings receives an invitation to the wedding.

❝ IT'S YOUR WORLD AND I'M NOT IN IT... ❞

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): kamisato ayato / male reader. angst. nothing else I can think of.

prompt: in the ask above but with some slight altercations.

notes: this will be a multi-part story. sorry for the long wait :(( I haven't been doing so hot when it comes to writing

fem aligned dni

The wind tasted of salt as it brushed through the foliage and structures of the Kamisato household. If this had been your first time being here, you would’ve grimaced at flavor but you’ve visited far too many times to care now. The tang of the sea’s salt had become a welcoming presence on your tongue over the course of these years, forever stained with the sugar of the sweet flowers in your tea.

Speaking of, a tray with a tea set on top of it was placed in the middle of the table, the person who had brung it welcoming himself into the conversation you were having with the man across the table. Thoma, an outlander who was shunned for his presence alone only now to be held as a handsome charmer and a respected member of the Kamisato household. He was also practically best friends with the man you were talking to.

Thoma says your name with familiarity, just as he does with Ayato, a pleasant smile resting on his pale yet reddish lips, “it’s been a while since I’ve last seen you. How’ve you been?” The question was unneeded- especially for someone like you, but it was sweet nonetheless.

“I’ve been better, to be fair.” You answered him, eyes trained on the teacup that rests on the saucer, watching the liquid ripple at every little movement made. Closing your eyes slowly for a moment, a sigh leaves your lips before they open again, fixed on the housekeeper that sat on your right, “My mother has been pressuring me to court someone for these past few weeks, hearing her voice has never been tiring but now I think I may reconsidering.”

A breathy, amused laugh leaves Ayato’s mouth and Thoma just looks at you. The blond’s eyebrow then raises, an awkward smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, “You’re looking at me like you want me to be the one to court you.”

You groan, letting go of the professional demeanor you were keeping intact, “By all seven Archons forbid you be the one to court me.” the jest causes Thoma to chuckle, “we are nothing more than schoolgirls who giggle over the latest gossip around the courtyard.”

“That I cannot argue.” Thoma agrees, bringing one of the teacups to his lips. Your wording was not false since the Kamisato housekeeper and you have exchanged the latest drama that you both had managed to get your gossip-ridden hands on each time you managed to bump into each other. Did it kindle a mischievous kind of friendship? Yes. Was the reasoning for it good? Maybe not.

“Haa..” You breathe out, folding your arms across your chest, “I just needed a good reason to get out of the house today.. thank you, Master Kamisato, for letting me reside here for a few hours.” You tipped your head down in respect to the commissioner; after all, you were nothing more than a commoner.

Ayato’s hand raises and waves slightly, “No need to thank me, it’s always nice to catch up with you. Oh, and please drop the formalities. We aren’t in public, remember?” He tells you, which causes your face to flare with heat in embarrassment. Sometimes, you forget that you’re friends with a government official and that within his private premises, he is no longer the Yashiro Commissioner but Ayato. Just Ayato.

“Forgive me.” You mutter and Thoma takes notice at the hint of adoration behind your tone. He knows. He knows everything because he’s your friend, who you spill all sorts of secrets to. If not for your flushed pleading, he would’ve told his master long ago and the two of you probably could’ve been courting by now.

A small crow flutters within the Kamisato residence and kicks up some resting dust with its wings before landing onto your left forearm. It had a small note tied to its scrawny foot, which you gingerly untied to read. The two looked at you curiously as you skimmed the contents on the ripped piece of paper and an exasperated sigh left your lips momentarily.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Your lips drew back in a distasteful snarl, standing up and brushing off non-existent particles from the lap of your kimono. The crow slid up to your left shoulder, resting there and hiding its feet within its puffed chest feathers, “My mother wants me to go pick up some groceries before sundown, I guess I’ll see you both again some other time. Until then.”

You bowed respectfully to the both of them, turning to leave the residence. Thoma and Ayato’s eyes continued to linger on your figure as you made your way out, steps slow to signify the dread of going home with each drag of your foot against the rock pathway. Ayato almost wondered if you would be able to handle the scolding of your mother, only for it to be stopped as the tinker of teacups messed with his train of thought.

“For a man with such a nice family, it’s such a shame to see him so insistent on not going home.” Thoma’s voice rings pleasantly in Ayato’s ears, seeing him clean up the area you sat in, “Maybe his family is a lot more pushy on courting than anything else. Ah, but I guess that gives him more of an excuse to visit here more often. After all, it’s certainly a blessing for a commoner’s son to be friends with the Lord Commissioner, they wouldn’t be against their son to visit someone so powerful.”

His flattery certainly does not go undismissed, as Ayato could feel his cheeks heat up, “Please don’t speak of me so highly.” The shade of red that decorates his cheeks disappears as quickly as it comes, a breath of disappointment leaving his lungs, “I hope he finds his destined path of love well.”

When Ayato says this, Thoma just stares. Gaze unwavering and limbs not doing their familiar routine of cleaning up that it’s almost scary because he just stares at Ayato. So bad, he wants to tell the political figure that it’s him that you’re in love with. But, he keeps his promise to not tell him because you would for sure rip out Thoma’s windpipe if he dared to do so.

Finally, the housekeeper tears his eyes away from the higher up, bowing his head and taking the dishes away from the zataku to clean them. Thoma wants you to be happy and he also wants Ayato to be happy too. You nor the commissioner himself notices but it’s obvious how much Ayato relaxes in your presence to Thoma. He’s so fed up on how the two of you keep beating around the bush with longing stares, awkward laughter, and stuttering embarrassment to the point where he wants to scream at you both to just kiss already.

It even gets Thoma thinking: how can Ayato notice everything about the Kamisato housekeeper but not acknowledge how obviously smitten you were when it comes to him? Thoma had his suspicions beforehand and received five thousand mora from Yoimiya the day you decided to confront Thoma about your love for the Lord commissioner.

He so desperately wants to give that push to set you two up but he doesn’t want to go against your wishes, so he’ll just wait. Patience is rewarded, after all.

An exhausted groan seethes through your teeth as you trudge down the rock pathways, shoulder beginning to numb from the weight of the paper bag’s straps pulling down on your arm. The crow shrieks in your ear to hurry up before the fruit rots, into which you swat the bird with your free hand. You miss, of course, because it takes off the second your hand raises. It continues to squawk loudly, probably alerting the nearby residents with its shrill cries.

“Quit yapping, will you!?” You shout at the bird, throwing one of the many green onions in your grocery haul in its direction. The crow darts to the side with a mocking caw, diving down to fetch the vegetable before it hits the ground and swerving back to smack the side of your face with it. You growl in frustration, grabbing the green onion and using it to point at the bird, “Listen, if you don’t shut your beak, I’ll plant watermelon seeds into your stomach and use your stomach acid as water with your muscle being the dirt!”

The crow goes quiet at such a threat, a quiet chitter of obedience sputtering from it. You huff at the accomplishment of getting the bird to finally shut up, faltering when you hear whispers coming from the opened window sills. Your fingers twitch at the idea of more juicy gossip to share with Thoma, shuffling yourself so that you were under the window, just close enough to hear what the girls in the building were talking about.

“The Yashiro Commissioner!? Really..?” Her voice quickly shushes at the last word and by the way her voice begins to muffle, you take a gander that the tips of her fingers are pressed against her lips in surprise. At the mention of your friend, you're more confused than invested. ‘What did Ayato get into..?’ You think, deciding that the answer will soon spill from the ladies the more you listen.

“Yeah, I was shocked too.. I didn’t think that he would ever decide something like that. Especially considering... you know.” You weren’t sure what the other lady was hinting at but you would think it was related to his authoritative position, “But you know her, she’s never been one to lie! Everything she says has been true which makes her really credible.”

You press your back harder against the wall, the crow cocking its head in confusion. Before it could even chirp a complaint, a vine crawled up from the wall and wrapped around the bird’s beak, your vision glowing angrily. It understood the memo and its wings slumped in frustration, knowing it’ll be a while before you pry it off.

“I wish I was a noble.. anyone would be lucky to capture the heart of Kamisato Ayato. At least he found a person of his status to marry to.” Then everything began clicking the more you didn’t want it to, your heart dropping into shattered pieces like a glass cup hitting a wooden floor, “I can’t believe she managed to charm such a handsome man. Lucky~. So, so lucky.”

You can hear her voice swoon and your head does too but not in a positive way. You think you’re going to be sick. Every decision in your life was reflected on and criticized within seconds of standing there in shock. ‘Ayato is getting married. Did I even have a chance?’ If only you confessed earlier, if only you were just the slightest bit more obvious about your feelings, if only you let Thoma tell Ayato about how you felt about him, if only you tried just a smidge harder, if only- if only.. if only... if only you weren’t such a coward.

Feathers brushed against your cheek in what you assumed to be pity. Then, you realized the onslaught of tears dripping from your bottom eyelashes. Like shards of the rarest crystal marrow, they fell and continued to fall.

With a shaky step forward, you walked away from the window, small shrubbery growing beneath your feet. You didn’t want to listen anymore. All the information was clear. Ayato was going to marry and the person walking down the aisle wasn’t going to be you. The small hiccuping sob coming from yourself was dull in your ears as you trudged home, the crow shuffling closer to your face on your shoulder, reassuring you by nuzzling its beak into your hair.

When you got home that night, your mother was about to playfully scold you for coming home late but immediately faltered when she saw you crying at the doorstep with flowers sprouting at your feet. She rushed to your side and began wiping your tears after setting the bag of groceries down, then letting you sit down on the tatami mats. She was about to pluck the flowers from the wooden floors so they wouldn’t splinter too deeply into the wood before recognizing what type of flowers they were. Bleeding hearts. She glanced at you from over her shoulder and frowned. ‘That’s why you were hesitant about courting.’

…

It has been a few days since you found out about Ayato. You cried for a while.. well, for 4 hours straight before you passed out and awoke to the sun shining on your face, unwelcomed and irritating. However, cooping yourself up in your house was definitely not healthy and as much as you didn’t want to face the outside world just yet, you laid on the tatami mats contemplating whether or not to get up. In the end, your mother ushered you to go get some fresh air, telling you that “your skin will break out in acne if you don't bask in the sunlight.”

Footsteps slow, your head was hung as low as your eyebags, geta dragging against the rocky walkways. Inazuma City was as bustling as always, people chattering happily, the sounds of food sizzling within restaurants, merchants promoting anything new within their shops.. all of this was just your everyday encounters. Everything sounds so annoying now. All the noises are causing a headache but that was mostly because this was the aftermath of crying for so long. You wanted to go back home but you’re pretty sure your mother is still home and will shoo you away if you were to even be six meters nearby.

Lady Luck must also not be on your side today because your gaze was so fixed on the floor you didn’t even notice there was someone in front of you. A flash of expensive shoes was not enough of a warning as your forehead bumped into the back of the person. This person, however, must have such an impressive build because you recoiled while they didn’t even budge.

Just as you were about to apologize, you looked up and caught a glimpse of light blue hair that made you freeze. Your jaw closed and screwed itself shut, forcing you to keep that quiet “sorry” locked behind your teeth. The one person you didn’t want to confront just yet, was standing in front of you, a plastic cup filled with milk tea in his hands.

Feet shuffling to dodge his line of sight, you were certainly not fast enough to dodge his attention because he says your name in that same sickly, sweet voice you fell in love with. You almost want to punch him. It seems stupid, yes, but you are angry at yourself and you want to take it out on something. You could never be mad at Ayato, though. It’s not even his fault either way but your love for him will blind you by gouging out your eyes from their sockets.

Reluctantly, your body turns to him but your gaze doesn’t do the same, finding the onikabuto that crawls pathetically on the ground much more appealing to the eye. Probably because it’s currently reminding you of yourself. Fingers digging into your palm, you finally decide to acknowledge his presence, a small “Lord Kamisato..” rasping out of your mouth.

Now, Ayato doesn’t seem to notice a lot about your behavior if Thoma is telling the truth, but the way you say his title in a pained tone does not go past his head. Then, and only then, does he see the dry streak of tears highlighting your face and his whole world stops.

love that guy

[thegreengnome]

Can you please write a fic where a lord tries to win over Aemond’s betrothed because he thinks nobody would want someone like Aemond but she immediately rejects him and tells him that she owes Aemond which he overhears.

Fandom – House of the Dragon

Word Count - 626

Pairing – Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Warnings – Very oc Aemond Targaryen

NOTE- I hope this is okay! I'm sorry if Aemond is very occ but i do think given the chance of 'love' he would act very different then we have previous seen from him.

Aemond is a Targaryen prince, a member of the royal family, and a dragon rider. He knew he was better than most in this room yet he could not help but twitch in agitation at the sight Infront of him.

Y/N L/N glided beautifully around the grand hall. Her hair floated after her in an almost halo effect. She truly looked ethereal. The man Infront of her on the other hand looked like he could be Vhagar's next meal.

Aemond's betrothed had only been at court for two moons but Aemond already knew she was his, and his alone.

During their first meeting his lady did not flinch nor gasp at the sight of his face as most ladies of the court had done. No, she had curtsied and smiled prettily up at him. Earnest in her chance to get to know her future husband.

He often found her waiting for him in the great library. The maester acting as a chaperone to the unmarried pair. Y/N would bring her recommendations to him expressing her interest in her latest find while he quietly observed her.

The way her fingers would follow along with the words, gently touching the pages so not to damage them. Her mouth quirking ever so slightly at an amusing or befuddling line, turning the page towards him to share in her merriment.

He had truly never felt so content before. His entire life had been built around duty and honour and this marriage was just another part of his duty. At least at first. He had known what it felt to be feared, loathed, and even hated but never loved. Perhaps he should feel love from his family – his mother at least but he knew all she felt for him was guilt. Guilt at the loss of his eye, at the lack of a loving father. He was the result of duty, much like he assumed his own children would be.

But with Y/N he felt seen. Nothing scandalous had happened between the two. Every interaction perfectly innocent.

“I’m surprised brother” the strong scent of ale and wine hit him as his older brother Aegon leaned his head down “if my women danced with another then that person that dared touch her would no longer have hands”

Aegon rarely said anything of interest to Aemond. He preferred to pretend his brother was not around, it was easier than dealing with him. But for once in his life Aegon made a point.

Ignoring the satisfied smirk on his brother’s face Aemond excused himself from the table. Approaching the dancing pair, the conversation between them became clear.

“I could give you everything he cannot” The man was lucky they were in polite company, or Infront of his mother.

Y/N abruptly stopped her movement. Her partner stumbling awkwardly to keep up. Muttering apologises to the remaining couples.

Removing herself from the embrace, Y/N moves back a polite smile on her lips. “I very much doubt that my lord” curtsying slightly Y/N leaves the startled man behind as he splutters in indignation.

Aemond had never felt like this before. This pure unadulterated joy. He started the man down as he passes. Making his way to his betrothed who had found a nearby servant no doubt to notify the royal family of her departure.

“My lady” said lady spun quickly, a hand clutched to her chest.

“My prince. You startled me” Giving the lady an apologetic smile he takes her hand in his own. Bringing it up to his lips, he gives it a quick kiss amusing himself with the blush spreading across her face.

“Would you like to dance?”

The smile he was given in response would remain in his head for some time “Of course my prince”

[bl4ckph0enix]

Daybreak

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You've tried to help your husband. Yet, you are forced to watch the wrong person getting crowned...

Wordcount: 1.9k

A/N: So, maybe many of you cannot relate to this. The idea came to me while I listened to the song 'Daybreak' by Dimash Qudaibergen. But I just had to write this because as someone who has to fight with very intense emotions, I can relate to this so unbelievably well. My heart broke for both Aemond and Aegon during the crowning scene. Aemond may be the villain of House of the Dragon, but it wasn't really his choice. No one gets born this malicious, one is made this way. And even when it actually is a deliberate choice at some point, growing up in a family like the Targaryen's only means that this attitude is forced upon you without a real chance to escape it.

English isn't my first language, please forgive any mistakes!

Stiffly, you stood together with your family-in-law on the podium in the Sept. Thousands of citizens were gathered in the hall, squeezing each other in order to get in to be able to see the crowning of Aegon II Targaryen. Your facial expression was completely blank and shock cursed through your body, causing to numb every emotion and dull every sense, and coldness slowly seeped into your bones. It's been three years now since you got married to Aegon's younger brother Aemond Targaryen. The both of you hadn't had a great start. Mean words and accusations had been thrown in both directions and you had actually hit him one or two times. He was the only person in this world that could get you riled up this much. And he also was the only person that you loved more than your own life.

You hadn't been able to avoid to fall in love with him. The both of you had partially been forced to spend time together and over the course of months, you had come to know Aemond better. You knew of his favorite things, of the things he hated, of his doubts and dreams. Especially his dreams. They were ones you shared. Having spent three years in his family, you knew as much as Aemond that he was a better man than his brother. He should be the one to be crowned today. Instead, he stood next to you, as stiffly as you yourself, his eye looking over the crowd with no emotion. Your fingers were intertwined with his and you could feel the warmth of his hand on your palm. Normally, it was reassuring and calming. But today, it did nothing to you.

You felt completely numb as you watched the kingsguard enter the Sept and build a corridor in the crowd for Aegon to go through. The tips of your fingers became cold and your breath slightly hitched in your throat, barely audible. One second later, you could feel the gaze of your husband on you, almost burning the right side of your face with its intensity. Of course he had heard you – he would always hear you, no matter where you were or how far away. It was your special bond that you both shared with each other after your Valyrian marriage; a bond that had developed with hate and rage, pain and tears, and that had turned into care and happiness, passion and love over time. The surroundings receded into the background, only noticeable at the edge of your field of vision as your empty eyes followed Aegon walking through the crowd. Somewhere distant in your mind, you registered that he seemed as unhappy and desperate as you felt right now deep down.

The events passed you by in a blur. You vaguely heard the Septon speak from far away, not able to follow the words that were spoken; you saw Aegon accepting his fate, the crown on his head, and you barely managed to hold yourself together as the searing pain that you had buried deep within you for today began to rise to the surface. But you held on. Because you knew that right now was not the time to lose it. You knew the pain Aemond held within himself that he never allowed to be seen. You knew of his childhood and youth, full of the bullying from his siblings and nephews, the lost of his eye, the expectations especially his mother had with him which he hadn't been able to meet, and his burning wish to follow his father on the throne after Viserys' death, to prove himself. Your hand that still held Aemond's became completely cold, even his warmth couldn't prevent it as you saw your meticulously detailed plan going down the drain right in front of your eyes. You knew that Aegon didn't want to be king, as much as Aemond and you didn't want him to be.

You couldn't explain when it all had started to go down the hill. Everything had been perfect. A few days before this important day, you had spoken to Aegon after having gone through everything with Aemond beforehand, how you wanted to do it. You had explained it in detail to Aegon and he had not hesitated to give his approval. One of the preparations had been to bribe the right people who you knew would support you to make Aegon disappear. They had agreed to help you because they had been able to see in Aegon's face and attitude that he did not want to be king. After everything was prepared, everything had gone smoothly today, almost as if everyone around you just wanted to play into your cards. Aegon had disappeared to hide above the dragonpit where no one would suspect him and would just have waited for an opportunity to board a ship to leave Westeros. Even when Aemond had come to you to tell you that his mother had sent out Ser Criston in order to search for Aegon, you had known that this wouldn't change anything.

And yet, here you stood, helplessly watching how the wrong man got crowned.

You could feel tears bubbling up in your throat and swallowed hard to keep them at bay. Still not the right time. You were thankful that Rhaenys Velaryon freed her dragon and disturbed the crowning ceremony, causing utter chaos and pain as her dragon hurt and killed people. You barely registered Aemond pushing himself in front of you to protect you, his hand on the right side of your hips to reassure himself that you were in fact behind him. You saw Rhaenys escape with her dragon as they tried to close the doors to prevent both her and the people from fleeing. But what happened next, you didn't know. You had a few flashing pictures of the kingsguard escorting you through the Red Keep to your chambers, which you shared with Aemond. The door was quietly closed behind you, but you didn't react at first. You still felt eerily numb, though the ripping pain was lurking beneath the surface, and you couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened during the last hour in your life.

Your gaze wandered out of the window at an extremely slow pace while your heartbeat started to quicken as your brain tediously began to catch up with what had happened. You knew that your emotions would nearly kill you the moment they would start to devour you. You tried to hold it back, to give yourself more time to maybe prepare a little bit for what was about to come. But you couldn't. The first sob escaped your throat mere seconds after you felt the barrier that you had built around your feelings begin to crumble down. The quite rustling of clothes somewhere beside you drew your attention and you saw Aemond standing a few feet away from you as your gaze flickered over to him, looking completely desperate, pained, and defeated.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair that the man you loved with every fiber of your existence had to suffer this much.

Something finally snapped somewhere in your mind. Burning pain ripped through you, hatred for Queen Alicent and her father melted your intestines and rage flowed through your veins like liquid fire. The first chalice crashed against the wall with a loud noise, accompanied by your furious scream. Everything had been perfectly planned, even Aegon had agreed to your plan and had supported you. And now, here you were, damned to see your soulmate suffer. The next chalices, glasses, and plates were thrown through the room, clattering to the ground and crashing against the walls, splintering into a thousand pieces just like your soul did at the sight of Aemond. You weren't able to hold yourself back; blankets, pillows, cups, plates, chairs, and books were thrown through the room by you while you simultaneously screamed your throat raw. For you, it was the only way to handle this all-surrounding pain, rage, and hatred within you that chewed venomously at you and devoured you whole. Tears were streaming down your face and your silver-blonde hair was an absolute mess, the long strands completely tangled, but you couldn't care any less.

Nothing was anymore where it had been before. Even the table had got toppled over by you in your rage. You didn't even really notice that you grabbed the glass vase that stood on the windowsill with pretty flowers in it – a gift from Aemond's mother yesterday. Now it seemed to mock you. Before you could do something more, your knees finally gave way due to exhaustion, but that didn't stop you. As soon as you were sitting on the ground, you slammed the vase onto the stone with your hand still attached. The physical pain that shot through your hand as a big piece of glass cut deeply into your palm, was what brought you finally back a little bit. Your voice went quiet and soundless sobs shook your whole body, big tears still streaming down your cheeks and dropping to the ground and on your dress. You could see the dark color of a pair of breeches as Aemond knelt on the ground next to you, carefully taking your injured hand into his own.

“Please,” you sobbed. Your throat was sore and hurt, your voice hoarse and raspy, cracking at the end and almost swallowing the next words you choked out, “Please, Aemond, make it stop. It hurts so bad.”

Another wave of tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him. New pain tore your heart to shreds the moment you saw the wet shimmer staining his beautiful face. “I know,” he whispered, his own voice breaking and thus barely audible. He looked down at your hand again, turning it around and inhaling sharply when he saw the large shard of glass that stuck in your hand, drawing blood that already started to drop to the ground, accompanying the new tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“It hurts,” you breathed. There was no need for you to explain to Aemond that you didn't mean your hand. Your other hand came up and the tips of your fingers grazed his hairline and the upper part of his forehead, lovingly and soothing. “I am sorry,” you whispered, causing his head to snap up again to look at you. “I have failed you, my love.”

You could see the pain in his eye as you said these words. “No,” he contradicted you and shook his head. “No, you didn't fail me, Y/N. You gave everything I could have asked for, and even more.”

“Avy jorrāelan, ñuhyz zaldrīzes,” you said weakly and finally started to calm down, exhaustion slowly settling in. “So much that it hurts.” (I love you, my dragon.)

“I know,” was all Aemond said to this. “I can feel it.” He grabbed the shard of glass carefully and started to pull it out, causing you to contort your face in pain. “We will fix this, byka mēre, I promise you.” (little one.)

“Okay,” you sniffed and wiped the tears from his cheek. All that you wanted was to see him happy, truly happy. It had become the center of your life the moment you realized that you loved this man that was still a broken little child deep down. You knew that sitting on the Iron Throne with that crown upon his head was what would make him truly happy.

And you would give everything to get him on that throne. In the end, even your own life.

Maybe one day, I'll write another part, but I just had to get that off my chest.

[rubysunnday]

ope there goes gravity

a/n: snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity When I tell you I've wanted to re-write this scene yet it's Bridgerton!sis who falls off since 2021

summary: Y/N Bridgerton was not in the gardens at the Trowbridge Ball. She had no idea of what transpired. Yet, somehow, she ends up in the middle of a duel, in an empty park, at dawn. And it's all Daphne's fault.

Bridgerton House was quiet.

Most of the staff had gone to bed - only Humboldt and Mrs Wilson remained awake, awaiting the return of those in attendance at the Trowbridge Ball.

Y/N Bridgerton - the sixth youngest in the Bridgerton family - was fast asleep in her bed, blankets tucked around her, candle gently flickering in the draft.

As much as she longed for the days when she could spend more time with her elder brothers and dance the night away, she was never a night owl. Y/N was almost always in bed before nine and asleep by eleven.

Everything was quiet in Bridgerton House. Except for a gentle yet frantic knocking on Y/N's bedroom door. It was just loud enough for the young girl to hear and she blearily blinked awake, half wondering if something miraculous had happened at the ball that Daphne simply could not wait to tell her about.

"Yes, I'm coming," Y/N muttered, sliding out of bed and grabbing her shawl. She wrapped her shawl around her as she opened her bedroom door, staring in surprise at the dishevelled state of her eldest sister.

"Daff, what -"

"Anthony is to duel Simon at dawn," Daphne announced, marching into Y/N's bedroom.

Y/N blinked, slowly processing the information. "Pardon me, what?"

Daphne sighed, running a shaking hand through her messy hair. "I kissed Simon."

"You kissed Simon?!"

"Well, I kissed him... and then his hands may have strayed away from where is socially acceptable."

Y/N looked at her sister, frowning ever so slightly. She was certain she knew what Daphne was alluding to - Y/N had talked with her lady's maid about sex and had learnt more than her mother would ever tell her.

"Daff did he..."

"No! Lord, no. I wanted it and it was entirely heat of the moment in the gardens -"

"How does this lead to Anthony duelling the Duke?"

"He found us. In the gardens. And he saw my... breast."

Y/N's mouth fell open. She stared in shock at her sister - the sister who had always followed society's rules, who had always been practically perfect.

"I know, it is bad -"

Y/N snorted, a bubble of laughter escaping her lips. Daphne instantly fell silently, glaring at her.

"Sorry," Y/N said, pressing her hand to her mouth. "I know it's not funny. I just... I am not quite sure how else to react."

"I have made a complete mess of things," Daphne moaned, sitting down on Y/N's bed with a dramatic flop. "I am in such a tangle, Y/N."

"Can I ask you something?" Daphne nodded. "Why did you come to me?" At her sister's confused gaze, Y/N elaborated. "Well, Colin is downstairs, is he not? So, why come to me instead of him? He is probably of more help."

"But he does not understand, fully, the extent of the situation." Daphne inhaled deeply, laying her hand's palm up in her lap. "I was caught, by my oldest brother, in a compromising position. He is now challenging the Duke of Hastings to a duel - a duel that will likely end with one person dead and the other fleeing the country. It will forever ruin two families and their lives. I cannot let that happen."

"Did anyone see you? In the gardens, I mean."

Daphne opened her mouth to immediately answer but found herself pausing. "Cressida. Oh, god, Cressida saw."

"What?"

"She made a snide comment, one that I brushed aside because Simon had just rejected me and a duel had been announced, but she said something about the gardens."

"Daphne, if Cressida saw, no matter the outcome of this duel, the ton will still find out."

"What do we do?" Daphne asked, looking at her younger sister with such helplessness, that Y/N's heart ached.

Y/N walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a dark blue riding habit, throwing it onto the bed. "We get changed," she said, undoing her hair from its braids, "and we go downstairs and demand Colin takes us to where the duel is to take place."

"You are coming too?"

"Of course," Y/N said as if Daphne had just asked the stupidest question in the world, "I would never leave my sister to stop a duel herself."

Daphne stood up from the bed and flung herself at Y/N, hugging her tightly. "Thank you," she said, sniffing quietly.

"Come on, we can hug later," Y/N told her, giving her a tight squeeze.

Colin, it turned out, was easily manipulated once told the severity of the situation. Even though he tried to stop Y/N from coming - because, really, did he have to babysit two sisters? - Daphne put her foot down and insisted she came for backup.

What sort of backup a seventenn-year-old girl was going to provide against two grown men and two guns, Y/N wasn't entirely sure. She was simply glad to be involved in the drama for once.

In the early morning, just as the sun began its ascent into the sky, the three Bridgerton's mounted their respective horses and took off for Hyde Park. Daphne urged her horse ahead of everyone's, galloping through the streets.

Y/N knew her sister was blinded by panic and anger. It wasn't hard for her, as a woman, to understand why. No matter what happened in the next few hours, Daphne's life would be changed forever.

As the sun began to rise - just peeking over the edge of the fields - Daphne was leaving Colin behind. They'd entered Hyde Park - which was thankfully empty - and Y/N was struggling to catch her sister up.

In the far distance, she could see five figures standing around a copse of trees - two were slowly walking away from one another.

Daphne, somehow, urged her horse to go even faster.

"Daphne!" Y/N yelled, her words swept away by the wind rushing past her.

Her sister was about to ride straight into the middle of a duel. Y/N wasn't quite sure what she was hoping to achieve - Daphne would end up either getting shot at or end up falling off her horse.

To be fair, Y/N wasn't entirely honest as to what she herself was hoping to achieve by catching up to Daphne. She couldn't simply yank Daphne's horse to a halt and force her to walk into the duel.

They'd almost reached the copse of trees. Y/N could see Simon and Anthony slowly beginning to turn to face one another. Daphne was riding straight between the two trees and Y/N urged her horse to go even faster.

Her horse, seeming to notice her urgency and her fear, pushed itself even harder, eating up the ground beneath it.

Daphne rode into the middle of the duel, yanking her horse up. "Stop!"

Someone fired their gun, the sound echoing out across the empty fields.

Y/N was not sure what happened next. Because one minute she was yanking her horse to a sharp stop, trying to avoid running into Daphne, and the next she was falling, the world spinning and turning around her.

Anthony had Daphne a second too late. He pressed the trigger, firing his bullet at Hastings. His eyes widened as Daphne rode through the duel, her horse skidding to an abrupt halt on the other side. Y/N, however, in an attempt to not ride into her sister, yanked her horse to a stop in the middle of the duel,

As Anthony's gun fired and the sound cracked out through the silent morning.

Horses neighed, rearing up in fear. Anthony watched as his younger sister - the one he'd always had a soft spot for - lost her balance and was de-saddled by her horse.

"Y/N!" Anthony yelled, his eyes widening in absolute horror as his sister fell, her head smacking the solid ground.

He ran towards his sister, vaguely registering Simon catching Daphne's horse by its reins and helping her down. Anthony threw his pistol to the side, falling to his knees beside Y/N as Benedict sprinted over to them, joining Anthony at Y/N's side.

"Sister," Anthony said, his voice laced with panic as his hands roamed over her body, every worst-case scenario running through his head. "Hastings!" He yelled, glancing over his shoulder at the man. "Is she alright?"

"Fine, worry about her!" Daphne yelled back, answering for herself.

"Y/N?" Anthony murmured, leaning down, brushing her hair back from her face. "Sister?"

It felt as if an eternity passed as Anthony waited, watching his sister intently. He let out a gust of air in relief as his sister's eyes flickered open, her gaze foggy as she tried to work out where she was and why she was on the floor.

"Oh, thank God," Anthony said, leaning back.

Y/N sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. She looked up and over at her sister, who was watching with concern but looked in relatively one piece.

"Oh, you alright over there?" Y/N yelled, kneeling on the ground.

"You rode into the duel!" Daphne yelled back, marching over to her.

"I was trying to stop you from getting shot!"

"Clearly, I was fine!"

"Clearly!"

"Ladies!"

The two sisters turned their heads sharply to look at Anthony - who was staring at them both as if they were mad.

"Are you two done?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. They nodded. "Good. Now, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I could not let you kill a man," Daphne said, looking at her brother. "Not when it would cause more harm than good."

"Why did you bring Y/N?"

"I needed someone who would understand my side," Daphne explained. "Besides, we were not unchaperoned."

"What - Colin?!"

"What was I meant to do? They were going to come with or without me."

Anthony looked like he might combust. "Oh dear -"

"I need a moment with the Duke," Daphne said, talking over Anthony as he swore. "Please."

"Daphne, I cannot -"

As Anthony went off, Daphne cast her sister a desperate gaze. Y/N raised her eyebrows, questioning whether what Daphne as asking was strictly necessary. Daphne practically stamped her foot in reply and Y/N huffed.

Their entire silent conversation happened in under ten seconds. Anthony was mid-rant about Hastings and Y/N sighed.

"Oh, I feel really dizzy," Y/N said suddenly, trying to sound genuine.

Y/N stumbled back a step, her back hitting Anthony's chest. Knowing he was directly behind her, Y/N let her legs fold beneath her and Anthony scrambled to catch her.

Daphne gave Y/N the smallest smile before turning to face Simon, grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside.

"Sister, sister, what's wrong?" Anthony asked, his voice frantic.

Benedict knelt down next to Y/N and tilted his head slightly, completely unconvinced of her entire act. He was always able to read her like an open book.

"Sorry, I think I sat up too fast," Y/N replied, pushing herself into a sitting position, and patting Anthony's hand.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," Anthony muttered, running a hand through his hair. He looked to his left, seeing Daphne talking to the Duke, a hand on his elbow. . "Daff - what are you doing?!"

Daphne turned to him, grimacing slightly. "TheDuke and I are to be married."

That shut Anthony up.

Y/N was desperately trying not to fall asleep on Colin. Her eyes were ever so heavy and it was getting hard to not close them. Colin glanced at his sister, nudging her foot with his.

"You can go for a nap," he said quietly, not wanting to interrupt their mother, who was mid-flow about wedding preparations.

"No, no, if I do mother will think it weird," Y/N replied. "I rarely nap unless ill."

"Or exhausted."

"Unless I have a reason to be exhausted."

"Just say you stayed up late talking to Daphne about the engagement."

"Which will then lead to her asking me why I acted as if I did not know this morning." Y/N yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "I shall simply proclaim a headache once she has finished talking and go for a nap afterwards."

"It will be bedtime by then."

"Precisely my point."

Colin rolled his eyes, picking up a biscuit from the tray next to him. "It was incredibly brave what you did this morning."

"Oh, hardly."

"I do not see any of the Featheringtons running into the middle of a duel for their sibling."

"Because they do not like one another," Y/N countered. "I happen to be rather fond of our dear sister."

"Still. You did not have to get involved."

Y/N sighed softly. "What I do not think many men understand is how marriage affects not only the woman involved but the other women in her life. Should Daphne have not ended the duel engaged to the Duke, then myself and all our sisters would have been ruined. I went, to not only protect Daphne but to protect myself and my own future."

Colin looked deep in thought for a moment as he munched on his biscuit, chewing slowly. "Does not make you any less brave," he eventually replied, swallowing. "Knowing you needed to fight for yourself as well as your sister's."

Y/N raised her eyebrows in a swift movement. She slumped against the sofa, clasping her hands on her stomach and closing her eyes. "Somebody has to. Everyone else is too wrapped up in their own damn lives."

She kept her eyes shut after her statement, trying to get a power nap in whilst her mother nagged Daphne about flower arrangements. Colin didn't quite realise Y/N had completely fallen asleep until her head slumped onto his shoulder and he felt her curl up into his side, using him as a pillow.

Colin glanced down at her, trying not to move, the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Now, Y/N, dearest - Colin, is she asleep?"

Colin jumped slightly, startled by his mother's sudden appearance by his right shoulder. "Uh... yes."

"Why is she asleep? She said she slept well last night."

"Ah, well, that might be my fault," Colin lied, "I kept her up telling her all about the ball. She asked and I fear I went on a bit in my description."

Violet didn't look entirely convinced. To be honest, she had had a look of suspicion on her face since that morning - a look all of her elder children were trying to ignore.

"Alright, then. Maybe take her up to her bedroom if she is truly that tired, though, Colin - let her have a decent rest. Now, Daphne, your gown..."

Colin turned away from his mother and looked back down at Y/N - who was still snuggled up into his side. He didn't move. He simply shifted ever so slightly, picked up another biscuit, and bit into it, content to sit there for as long as he had a decent supply of biscuits.

[cowplant-pizza]

wanderlust legacy challenge part one

hi guys welcome to a new legacy challenge! i’ve had the itch to make a new one since coming back to simblr, so here goes. 

you need all packs to be able to play this legacy challenge fully

the premise of this legacy challenge is: each generation has it’s own world. you are only allowed in the world of the generation you are currently playing, or the worlds of generations past. for a “hard mode”, only allow yourself to play in the current generations world. this means, no leaving the world for dates, days out, events, parties ect. 

tips: at the start of each legacy challenge, you have full rein to do whatever you would like to the world you’re moving into. add new community lots and townies. make the world you’re playing in fun and exciting. include as many types of community lots you can. once the generation begins, you are not allowed to edit your world any further. (apart from editing sims if they grow up ugly for example lol)

note, your sims are allowed to interact with townies from different worlds, but they are NOT allowed to marry them, or go over to their house. you MUST marry a sim from your generation’s world.

rules, or not so much rules: you are allowed to play this legacy challenge as loosely or as strictly as you’d like. preferably you will use no money cheats, job or skill cheats, but honestly play the way you enjoy the game! use any sort of mods you like to enhance your own enjoyment. this legacy challenge is here for fun after all. 

you can play this legacy challenge on any age length! just no pausing aging. normal aging is recommended, short aging is definitely for hard mode, but i personally enjoy long aging so it’s totally up to you. you can also have as many or as few pets as you’d like unless specified otherwise.

i’ve included links at specific points to help you complete the challenge

without further adieu, lets begin!

generation one: willow creek

this is it, your first ever place away from home!! you’re excited, but nervous. your legacy starts here and now. you’ve felt like you needed a new start for a while, and finally earned enough money from busking in the streets to find a rundown home. it’s a fixer-upper, but you see lots of potential! hopefully this will be your new base for the future years. you can see your music career taking off here. maybe even starting a band? and what about the future? is this place good for children? you wonder if this is the right move. but it’s too late to turn back now...

age: young adult (hard mode: start as a teen)

traits: ambitious, perfectionist, loner (hard mode: add “perfectionist” when YA)

aspiration: musical genius 

likes/dislikes: likes guitar and singing (hard mode: no likes/dislikes)

rules:

- max guitar, singing and one other instrument skill (hard mode: max all instruments) - reach at least level 6 of the parenting skill - be the leader of a band (club) and meet at least once a week to practice - marry someone from willow creek - complete your aspiration, musical genius - have 3 children, but one is an “accident” with a member of your band (hard mode: have this child while being married; you cannot marry this band member)  note: the “accidental” child is your gen 2 heir - reach level 10 of the entertainer career (musician branch) - busk regularly to earn Simoleans until level 5 of your career - your spouse must have a negative relationship with the child that is not theirs - when your gen 2 heir becomes a teen, your relationship with your spouse falls apart, and you divorce - maintain high relationships with each member of your band (including the parent of your child) - have at least “good friend” relationship with each of your children (hard mode: max out all relationship bars with your children) - have a music room in your home

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek

generation two: oasis springs

your childhood was slightly confusing and difficult. you were often referred to as an “accident” by your step-parent. they very obviously hated you, but luckily you had a really good relationship with both of your real parents. just like them, you love and appreciate music, but you saw how stressful life as a musician could be. so you found a hobby in science and video games! you got lost in the world of outerspace, and dreamed one day of meeting a real life alien. you heard that alien abductions were happening in oasis springs, so on your 18th birthday, you left home and moved to the desert, hoping to one day meet an alien in the flesh...

traits: squeamish, geek, music lover

aspiration: computer whiz

rules:

- max the logic and rocket science skills

- complete your aspiration, computer whiz - reach at least level 5 in the video gaming, handiness and programming skill - reach at least level 5 in an instrument of your choice (hard mode: max the skill) - keep a positive relationship with your parents and siblings - have a negative relationship with your step-parent - work in the scientist career until you visit sixam - once you have visited sixam, you have the choice of: continuing in the scientist career until level 10, or swapping to the astronaut career and reaching at least level 7 (either branch) (hard mode: reach level 10 in both careers) - fully create a rocket and visit space at least 5 times - complete the space rocks collection and the geode collection - if your sim is male, attempt to become pregnant via alien abduction (you may use cheats for this if it feels like its never going to happen) - you must marry an alien (important: this alien MUST live in oasis springs, so i recommend pre creating them and placing them as a townie who is living amongst other sims) - have as many children as you like note: the gen 3 heir must be an alien

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek and oasis springs (plus sixam)

generation three: newcrest

note: with newcrest being a vacant world, this is the most creative you can get with designing your generations world! feel free to get creative. i can’t wait to see what style of newcrest you create

being an alien is hard. everyone looks at you funny, and that makes you sad. you’re just like everyone else, and wish they would stop teasing you. you spend most of your childhood in disguise, as you hate being picked on for being different. you’ve learnt to cover up your self consciousness by making self deprecating jokes. and it seems like you’re actually pretty funny! once you realize you’re actually good at being comedic, you start to become more confident in your real self, and go through a stage of self acceptance. you feel bad for your past self, as you learn to love who you truly are. you’re beautiful because you’re different! you move to newcrest to leave the bullies behind, and start a new chapter of your life where you don’t have to hide yourself or be self conscious anymore! you’re going to be an inspiration and encourager for people who are different like you.

traits: goofball, childish, self assured (must be gained in this order)

aspiration: joke star

rules:

- max the comedy and charisma skill - complete your aspiration, joke star - reach at least level 5 in the mischief, writing and photography skill - you must be your alien self for the majority of your YA+ time (mods allowed/encouraged!) - use your alien abilities as often as you can, especially “probe” as you find this very hilarious - reach level 10 of the social media career (internet personality branch) - reach at least 20,000 simstagram/social bunny (?) followers - adopt a cat or dog, and make them a simstagram with at least 5,000 followers - perform comedy routines and write comedy books in order to earn simoleans on the side - marry your best friend (from newcrest ofc) - have 4 children, 2 of which must be twins (cheat allowed) - prank your spouse and children regularly - must throw a big party for every holiday, event and birthday - complete the space prints collection - you must breed your cat/dog and the gen 4 heir must take their kitten/puppy with them!

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest (plus sixam ONCE if you want to)

generation four: magnolia promenade

your parents always taught you to be yourself and to do what you love. you are very confident in your creative ability and always dreamed of running your own store, selling things you create. your teachers even once called you a “young van gogh”. this was the best thing you ever heard, and now you vow to never let that teacher down! you’re determined to make your family proud by becoming a brilliant business owner and earning millions selling your art! mainly for your pride but, you can’t lie, the money is an added bonus.

traits: self absorbed, creative, art lover

aspiration: fabulously wealthy & painter extraordinaire  

rules:

- you must max the creativity skill as a child - if you go out to dinner as a child, you must draw on placements - max the painting skill, plus 2 other crafting skills (flower arranging, fabrication, knitting or cross stitching) - reach at least level 5 charisma and baking skills - make at least 50,000 simoleans selling on plopsy (i’d keep track of this on a notepad or something)  - reach level 10 of the painter career - once completing this ^ open your own store selling art - paint every type of emotional painting at least once - paint at least 10 masterpieces  - complete both aspirations, fabulously wealthy & painter extraordinaire (in any order) - be companions with the pet you brought from your family home - marry someone who is also creative, must live in magnolia promenade - ^ have your first date, and get married in an art gallery lot - your spouse enjoys fishing, and must complete the fish collection (only they are allowed to travel to different worlds to complete this, not your heir or your children) - have 5 children, all are creative apart from 1,  this will be your gen 5 heir - go on at least 2 family holidays to granite falls - have an art studio room in your home

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade. you can also now go on holiday to granite falls

generation five: windenburg

you were surrounded by beautiful art as you were growing up. both of your parents were extremely creative, as were your siblings. you always felt overshadowed by them, as your parents valued art above any other skill. you loved your childhood but always felt a bit like the black sheep. you made art in your own way, through cooking. your parents sometimes baked with you on weekends, and you became fascinated with food. now it’s your turn to make your own masterpieces, and become the best chef that windenburg has ever seen!!

traits: foodie, gloomy, snob

aspiration: master chef

rules:

- max cooking, baking and gourmet cooking skills - try to garden, gather and fish your own ingredients when you can - reach at least level 5 gardening, fishing and handiness - own all types cooking items in your home (oven, outdoor grill, cupcake machine, pit, ect.) - never eat a quick meal or cook in a microwave - your spouse must reach level 10 gardening - throw at least 5 dinner party or weenie roasts (hard mode: earn gold on all of them) - join the garden gnomes and upper crusts  - complete the gardening collection - complete any “odd jobs” that require cooking meals - reach level 10 of the food critic career  - write at least 3 cookbooks - create a grand meal for every holiday - cook together with your family at least once a week - complete the aspiration master chef - never cook the same meal twice in a row - fully upgrade your oven - have 2 children

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade, windenburg and granite falls

generation six: city living

you had a wholesome, loving and fun childhood filled with good food and fun. you lived in a small little village and were known as “the chef’s kid”. even though you love where you lived, the city really calls to you! you’re in search of more adventure and excitement, and maybe even danger? your parents support the move, but you might not want to tell them everything you get up to in the city...

traits: dance machine, commitment issues, party animal

aspiration: serial romantic and soul mate

rules:

- max dancing, mixology and bowling skills - reach at least level 5 in charisma, singing and dj mixing skills - complete the aspiration serial romantic as a young adult - never stay in a relationship longer than 1 season - have at least 3 children from 3 different sims as a young adult - be in the criminal career for your young adulthood, must reach level 5 at least - attend or throw a party at least twice every week - you are never allowed to say no to going to a party or bar (unless they are not in your accessible worlds) - once you reach adulthood, marry your best friend and have two more children  - once you reach adulthood, reach level 10 in the mixology career - complete the soulmate aspiration as an adult+ - complete the snow globe and city posters collections - never become better than “friends” with your children - have a negative relationship with all prior lovers - your spouse must have a maxed out relationship with all of your children, even their step-children - your spouse must reach level 10 parenting skill

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade, windenburg, san myshuno and granite falls

generation seven: forgotten hollow

your childhood was confusing. receiving no love from one parent but endless amounts of love from the other gave you whiplash. it definitely did not give you a good perception on how relationships should work. you withdrew into your own fantasy world of vampires. you loved reading books about them, watching films about them, and you even started to dress like them! you were definitely the weird, quiet kid in school, and only had a few friends who were also obsessed with the supernatural. after hours of research, you finally found some solid evidence that vampires do indeed exist. and now you’re about to find out for real...

traits: bookworm, hot headed, romantic

aspiration: master vampire

rules:

- max vampire lore and medium skill - reach level 5 pipe organ - live in a haunted house - work as a paranormal investigator - summon bonehilda  - date caleb and lilith at the same time without the other knowing until max relationship levles - once both are maxed, you must choose one of them and break up with the other - ask the sibling you chose to turn you into a vampire - ^ only allowed to become a vampire once you are max vampire lore skill - ^ must also have two children as a human before changing with the sibling you chose - adopt one human child - become a grand master vampire - choose to feed off of ONLY plasma, or ONLY plasma fruit note: gen 8 heir is the adopted child - complete the crystals collection

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade, windenburg, san myshuno, forgotten hollow and granite falls

generation eight: brindleton bay

you have a secret, and you can’t tell anyone... your childhood was weird, scary and traumatizing. finally you can escape that madness. ghosts, ghouls and vampires, they’re all real. and you lived with them! are you crazy? surely not. it’s time to move on... if possible. you run and never turn back. to the seaside, it’s the only place you feel safe. you find comfort in the animals, and make it your lifes purpose to help them. 

traits: paranoid, dog lover, unflirty

aspiration: friend of the animals

rules:

- never speak to your parents or vampire siblings ever again - max the veterinarian, parenting and animal training skill - reach at least level 5 wellness and fitness - adopt a stray dog and become companions - max friendship level with mayor whiskers - teach your companion pet all tricks - do not get enter into any relationship or get married (you don’t trust anyone) - adopt 3 children of baby or toddler age - own your own vet clinic and work there - breed your pets at least once to sell their kittens/puppies - always have at least 1 cat and 1 dog in the household - finish the feather and frog collections - max friendships with all of your children - go to the park with your children and pets at least once a week

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade, windenburg, san myshuno, brindleton bay and granite falls

generation nine: del sol valley

you grew up by the seaside, in a little cottage with your single parent and two siblings. things were quiet, and you were wrapped up in bubble wrap by your paranoid parent. they were always worried that something bad would happen to you, but you just didn’t understand! you wanted something bigger and louder. lets go live our life to the fullest!!!

traits: high maintenance, materialistic, overachiever 

aspirations: mansion barren and world famous celebrity

rules:

- you must finish this generation living in a celebrity home - max the charisma and acting skill - reach at least level 7 in the comedy skill - reach at least level 5 in the fitness skill - reach level 10 in the acting career - meet your spouse via a blind date - woohoo in a money vault at least once - max your celebrity level - always complete money and item based whims - complete your mansion barren and world famous celebrity aspirations - go travelling to selvadorada at least 3 times - complete the omiscan treasures collection - have a cinema room in your house - have at least 4 children, and spoil them all - have a maid/butler - have at least 100,000 followers on your social media page - get a gold rating in all of these parties: house party, black and white bash, incognito costume party, dance party, charity benefit party, fan meet and greet - go on a date at least once a week with your spouse - have at least one “pure breed” pet

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade, windenburg, san myshuno, brindleton bay, del sol valley, forgotton hollow and selvadorada

generation ten: strangerville

your childhood was loud, rash and honestly too much for your liking. constantly in the limelight made it hard to be yourself! your parents wanted the best for you, but didn’t understand that maybe you didn’t want to be famous and rich. you appreciate the smaller things in life. you were always devastated seeing those in need, homelessness, war, criminal activity, all while you lived in a mansion on top of a hill with more money than you ever needed! you’ve decided to give up everything and follow your heart to a small town named strangerville. you’ve read about some weird things going on here. maybe you can help...

note: i know the strangerville storyline is hated by some, so you can completely skip it by using cheats or mods if you wish*

traits: good, family-oriented, loves the outdoors

aspiration: big happy family

rules: 

- you must start with only 10,000 simoleans. donate the rest to chairty - you must start in the little trailer lot and move out once you have enough money/need more space - complete the strangerville story line* - max the parenting and programming skill - reach at least level 5 in fishing, cooking and charisma skills - reach level 10 in the detective career then at least level 5 in the military career - marry a colleague very early into your YA life - start a family very early into your YA life - have 5 children and max out your friendship level with all of them - be best friends with your spouse - have a positive relationship with everyone in town (at least one person from each household) - finish the fossil collection - volunteer with your family at least once a week - every time you get above 40,000 simoleans, you must donate it to charity (unless you are saving for a larger house) - never fullfill money or object related whims - reject all party invites - only throw small parties for birthdays or weddings - if you want a pet, you must adopt them or find a stray in brindleton bay - buy off plopsy as much as possible in order to support small businesses - have a penpal

worlds you are allowed to visit: willow creek, oasis springs, newcrest, magnolia promenade, windenburg, san myshuno, brindleton bay, del sol valley, forgotton hollow, selvadorada, strangerville and granite falls

this is the end of part one of the wanderlust challenge!!

this took me like 5hrs to write, so i am planning on making a part 2 where i continue with the 9 other worlds soon. i hope this keeps u busy in the meantime!! if you have any questions please send them to my ask box ♥

use “#wanderlust legacy” and/or tag me so i can see your lovely creations and stories. and remember to HAVE FUN!!!!

[franklespine]

How am I just supposed to carry on with my life after 6.08 of House md. HOWWWWW?????!!!!! Kill myself that was gut wrenching. Never had I had such a punch to the gut like that ending was. Cameron telling House that she loved him. Telling him about how all he cares about is sweeping and manipulating people into his puzzles and games. "You'll poison [Taub and Thirteen] just like you poisoned Chase ... you ruined him."

Oh my god. I cannot believe they just made me watch that.

The building tension between Chase and Cameron in this episode in the fact that the only way Cameron could continue to be with him was to believe that killing Dibala wasn't his fault but House's - that Chase was his "personal sock puppet", and that to move beyond this they had to leave.

Comparatively, Chase struggles to wrap his head around the fact that Cameron forgives him for an act that he perceives was not only the "worst thing [he's] ever done", but entirely his fault. He's spent the past few episodes overwhelmed with emotions he doesn't know how to deal with. House told him to get some help and Chase interprets this as going to confession where he just begs the priest to give him a way to achieve atonement and lift the burden off of him. And then when the priest tells him there's no way to do that without taking responsibility for his actions he just goes to the bar so long Cameron almost reports him missing and drinks himself half to death. So I think the reason he struggles so much to understand why Cameron forgives him is because he doesn't forgive himself - he doesn't regret what he did and still thinks it was the right thing to do but that doesn't mean he isn't wrought with shame and guilt because of it. And then he slowly realises throughout this episode that Cameron hasn't really forgiven him - she just doesn't believe he was at fault. But he can't run away from what he did and, probably more importantly, he doesn't want to leave House. He tells Cameron that killing Dibala was his fault and despite everything, he'd do it again.

And then - you ruined him - Cameron says to House. Jesus Christ just kill me. 'You broke him beyond repair'. Because despite Cameron's penchant for broken people, she doesn't want them to be beyond repair, emotionally.

"I'm sorry for you both. For what you've become. Because... there's no way back for either of you."

UGGHHHJFNEWJONORGOW

Honestly, as much as House fucked with Taub, Thirteen and Kutner, it wasn't like with his original fellows. He didn't change them, fundamentally, like he did with Foreman, Chase and Cameron. Each of them has a slightly different breed of a complicated, messed up relationship with House that no one else (not even each other) will ever understand - and now none of them can truly leave. They're stuck there in that hospital, in some way, with House forever, seeing reflections of House in each other and in themselves like a disease. Like Cameron says in 5.13 "I'll always say yes to House. I studied under him. He's in my head." And Foreman too is 'ruined' - he got away from House, begins acting just like him and now he is entirely un-hirable - here is the only place he has to go. And I think the fact that Chase was the only fellow in s3 who was fired by House (rather than leaving himself), and then came back to the same hospital (with Cameron) to work as a surgeon is rather telling. He referred to House as God, he maybe received the worst treatment from House and still sucked up to him the most for his approval and validation, he's a capable and intelligent doctor but yet in the diagnostics team he bases his diagnosing suggestions off of House like he's his entire frame of reference right from s1 (making diagnoses not based on actual medical knowledge but how House reacts to each of them, how he phrases his questions, how he starts the conversation).

Jesus christ. Just the way that he fundamentally altered something deep inside each of them, irrevocably, is just sooooooo... RAHHHHDJBFJBFHFEOFHEW.

This show man what in the world.

Erm. On to episode 9 I guess.

[itshype]

Triple Threat (DC x DP)

So, this is based slightly on this prompt I wrote! Here is the link to my DC x DP masterpost, and one of my last notfics I posted here was Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, Godhood where Danny and Vlad try to manipulate and mansplain their way out of trouble with the JLA. So, Danny and Billy are brothers. Maybe they're twins separated at birth, but I prefer that they bonded at some other point, maybe they adopted each other after meeting on the street. Danny's parents said they didn't care he was a halfa, but their behaviour changed so much because they were utterly incapable of hiding their fear of him. He ran away. Billy was at this time, already living on the streets.

They 'come out' to each other on the same day revealing their powers out of brotherly love and unconditional trust - not as an accident. And you know what? Trans Rights! They can come out that way too. At this point, Billy is working with the justice league and Danny is spending a lot of his time in the Zone. He is the king, but mostly his job is to be a key judicial figure as the 'only dude who can pretty much beat anyone up' and has a lot of friends there. Hey, the sovereign ruler of the ghost zone was locked up for thousands of years and nothing really seemed to happen so I can't imagine he'd have a lot to do day-to-day. Actually, instead of sleeping on the streets they both spend most nights in the Zone in Danny's Haunt (though I'd imagine Billy also sleeps frequently at the watchtower because the pair of them are quasi-immortal homeless children who also somehow have fulltime jobs that pay nothing. And the watchtower has a kitchen). When I think of Danny's personality displayed as a physical location, I think it looks like a little suburban street lined with weird ghostly trees growing sentient flowers. There's a nasty burger though it's empty of employees and food; they still use it as a dining room. His actual house (ghosts don't need one but I still think Danny would have one) is moderate in size and charming. But it has defences built in, to the same absurd level as home alone or that live action scooby doo film https://youtu.be/2x7W225iC88?t=62 where there's a trapdoor under the doormat. There's a park across the road (which is always empty of cars but has a pedestrian crossing anyways) with purple grass and some plants that are only vaguely carnivorous. Every now and then, Billy helps out Danny with some magic tomfoolery in the Zone (you cannot tell me Aragon's amulets or Desiree aren't magic over and above normal ghost shenanigans). In one of Billy's first ever team missions he calls Danny as backup. He barely knows these people and he knows he won't be able to do his best hero-ing when he can't fully trust them to watch his back. Phantom doesn't end up having to do much because the JLA members are nice and trustworthy, but he is physically and visibly there. At the conclusion of the mission, following a nice orderly debriefing, Wulf comes to pick up Danny to get Walker back in line. This is a point where there are only a few JLA members, but Batman carefully adds "Brother/Twin??: King of Ghosts - The Phantom" to Shazam's file and begins investigating ecto-activity. A few years pass. Enough that Billy’s and Danny’s lives get a lot busier. Billy is doing some non-traditional school shit (I refuse to google the laws around out-of-school younger-age education in a foreign country for a city that doesn’t exist) and Danny is now working in a space agency. He obviously can’t be an astronaut because of the required physical -which he would not be able to pass - and he is busy with king stuff often enough that going into space for half a year isn’t really do-able. I think his Jack Fenton genes might kick in and he bulks out just a tad. It took him a year to be able to look at his ghost self in the mirror because he looked like Dan’s scarier big brother.

The justice league stop some evil invasion but in the process disable a giant spaceship that is now floating, untethered through their solar system. The aliens had been prepared for superman so there is artificial kryptonite meaning he cannot just punt it into the sun. They contact some space scientists to help them figure out how much of a problem this floating object will be; if it will affect future space travel attempts, if it could crash into the moon or Earth itself, if benevolent alien visitors in the future could think Earth was full of deranged murderers if they came to visit and encountered it.

Every agency they contact recommends one guy.

So, Shazam has need of his cool older twin Danny to come and help out with this problem! He is visibly thrilled and eventually admits that Daniel Nightingale (he wasn’t going to add to the prestige of his parents name or risk dragging his career down with their shenanigans) is his brother.

Only a couple of the original members remember all those years ago that Marvel has a brother they’ve met and that’s who they’re expecting when Danny arrives with his team. Of course, the magic ghost is a good option for a dicey mission. But no, it’s Danny. He does a great job and there’s a lot of content here. But after Danny and Billy leave, Batman holds a meeting to update JLA members that have only been around a few years. Apparently, Captain “the champion of magic” Marvel, and Phantom – the king of ghosts are triplets with Danny “Just A Guy” Fenton.

[hajihiko]

any hajime headcannons?

-this guy's got anger issues too, he's just slightly better at hiding them

-completely oblivious to the fact that everyone crushes on him it's hilarious

-His relationship with his parents is not good, not bad, just... average. They just never connected and conversation was usually just polite. It's kind of ouch to feel how your parents just don't really feel particularly strongly about you as a person beyond being their child, but he's fed and housed and schooled, so it's not like anythings wrong per se. This is partially why he was so obsessed with being extraordinary

-The only person to rival Imposter in how much imposter syndrome he has

-runs hotter than the average person (miggy gave me this one lol)

-dimples!! And sharper teeth than the average person

-interested in philosophy, art and the supernatural, post-wakeup, because it's all things that are impossible to do "right" and the supernatural hasn't been proven yet. (Cue ghost Junko)

-hes an only child and sometimes you can really tell.

-if he was a flower he'd be a 🌻... To Face Another Day and such...

-he is at risk at having a bit of an alcohol problem post-wakeup if he had access to that sort of thing. No one operates at 100% when drunk and it's the only time he can be dumb and clumsy and bad at things anymore.

-Brain empty no feelings chemicals (samesies) means he's also gotta be careful with drugs (forcibly dousing brain with Chemicals) but (thankfully??) he actually has an aversion to drugs in general, even strong painkillers.

-strong aversion to needles post-wakeup, and absolutely can't stand having his wrists held or restrained. No sexy handcuffs for this guy thankyouverymuch

-his hands are like. Flat? Wide? His fingers splay out far and the thumb is extra curved.

-he didn't inherit everything that the other kids have, that didn't come by talent but rather is individual based. Ibukis hearing, Akane's danger sense, and Fuyuhiko's pain tolerance for example.

-hes hairy but he doesn't like having a beard.

-kinda has that thing where you're really resistant to being told what to do even if you were gonna do it anyway. Like "ok well you told me to so now I won't"

-mentally checks out sometimes. Just runs on autopilot. It's hard to tell the difference and it scares him. One of the methods that help are aromatherapy and meditation

-he and Impostor have like, a very unique relationship. You couldn't tell from the outside but he can feel the difference

-sometimes the emotions just aren't there. When they're super strong though, they can overwhelm him to the point where he forgets to be the best at stuff and can make human mistakes once again. FX if he was absolutely furious he'd punch someone with normal strength instead of Ultimate Boxer form or whatever

-he is pretty good with people, he's just a guy you can trust! but they still get on his nerves often.

-if he doesn't get something he CANNOT let it go until he understands it. Thankfully people are hard to neatly pin down so being around his friends keeps him from being so bored.

[doberbutts]

Any chance you could talk about how you're teaching Fenris to retrieve? I am also struggling so hard with that. Will probably consult with a real life professional trainer about it in the near future because it is just. So. Frustrating. Lol, but I'd love to hear what worked for you.

Recent picture of my retrieval-hating doggo for tax, lol.

Well I don't know that I'm the best person to take advice from because retrieves are absolutely one of the hardest tasks for me to wrap my brain around, especially formal sport retrieves, and despite me trying to teach retrieves to *checks notes* EIGHT different dogs, Fenris is my first one to actually have some mild success.

I spoke at length to my friend Allie @molosseraptor about how much I suck at retrieves and she had some amazing advice for me. I cannot stress enough how good of a dog trainer she is. Any time I have asked her for advice, she not only has hit the nail directly on the head, but it has widened my understanding of whatever concept I'm struggling with that much more. Truly, if you want actual help, don't listen to me. Just go pay Allie to teach you!

Anyway. For Fenris specifically, retrieve is a behavior chain. In other words, I teach each piece of a retrieve separately, and then let it all come together at the end after he nails every piece the way I want him to. In other words, I taught a sit, a come to front, the concept of going to what I throw and picking it up, the concept of bringing it back, the concept of holding something in his mouth without chewing or dropping it, the concept of the hot/cold game, the concept of a clicker, the concept of working for treats, paw targets, and outs... before ever showing him a dumbbell.

From there it's a matter of string it together. Go get the thing > pick it up without chewing > bring it back > come to sit at front with it in your mouth > hold onto it until I tell you to out. The paw targets help show him where I want him to be. The hot/cold game tells him if I need him to tweak his positioning.

Historically I have been able to get a "go get the thing and bring it back to me and sit at front" however in nearly all of the dogs I have tried to teach this behavior chain, including Fenris, we get stuck in the sit at front portion because the dog spits the fucking dumbbell out and drops it on my toes as it sits down. Which is very not what I want and also these are weighted dumbbells ouch my poor feets.

I brought this up at Mondio last time we were there and the training director and the president both suggested instead of teaching him a chin rest (which I have never been able to do very successfully with the dog uprifht) to teach him to push slightly into me as he sits, lifting his head up to do so (and thus reducing temptation for him to drop the damn thing) and making that front nice and tight. He may bump me and we may lose a point, but I can tweak that part later. This was an almost instantaneous breakthrough and I am really glad those women are counted among my friends.

One last thing I want to mention is that, knowing he was going to be a mondio dog, I did not correct him at all for picking up various things around the house. In Mondio, the retrieve can be anything, not just a weighted dumbbell. So that means that because I didn't want him to be weird about picking stuff that Is Not Toys up, I never once told him off for picking things up. Usually he just wanders around with it in his mouth, and because he never associated this with a bad thing, he usually comes right up to me and spits it into my hand.

[cloudy-skyes]

General Main 4 Headcanons

Notes: Hi Harleyy <33 Sorry I accidentally lost your actual request (thank god i screenshotted it) Thank you for the request :)

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, smoking (Kenny)

Relationship: Established romantic relationship

Gender: Gender neutral, no pronouns mentioned

Kyle:

Not only is Kyle an amazing boyfriend, he’s also an amazing study buddy with you. If you’re struggling with homework or you have an upcoming test, you two will have a study date at one of your houses.

These dates often include you being held in his lap, while he points at homework/test questions and explains them to you.

Breaks are always important in studying though!! So when you two get sick of studying, you have cuddle sessions where you calmly run your fingers through his curly hair.

Speaking of his hair, he secretly LOVES it when you play with his hair. Kyle won’t let anyone else touch it but you. It’s just something about your touch that is so relaxing to him.

He is SUCH a gentleman. He’s the type to hold doors open for you, pull seats out for you, and other acts of service. He likes holding your hand in his own hands and kissing your knuckles. It’s a little bit cliche but it still makes you feel so loved.

Kyle adores it when you get along with his little brother, Ike. He’s such a family oriented person, so seeing you play with Ike makes his heart flutter with adoration. Ike totally acted like Kyle’s wingman before you and Kyle started dating too.

Kyle tends to have a short temper, especially with Cartman. He looks to you as a source of serenity when he needs to calm down. I swear if you just hold him and give him a kiss it soothes him right away.

Kyle also has some abandonment issues because of his history with failed relationships. Please just reassure him every now and then that you love him, he loves you too <3

Stan:

First off, Stan is absolutely head over heels for you. He loves being around you. He’s practically living at your house at this point, he’d rather be with you than at the farm with his dad.

Stan does struggle with depression, and goes through depressive episodes pretty often. You know it isn’t your responsibility to care for him, you do anyways. He always tries his best for you so you return the favor by being there for him.

This includes SOO many cuddle sessions. When he’s cradled in your arms, one wrapped around his torso and the other gently holding his head in your shoulder, he feels much better.

Stan also plays the guitar, he often brings his guitar over to your house and plays songs for you. Sometimes he’ll even have you sit on his lap, his guitar on your own, and guide your hands with his to learn to play the guitar :)

He’s also a HORRIBLE texter. It’s a little bit ironic because he shows his affection to you constantly in person, but this guy cannot get any more dry over text with you. That’s why he prefers to hang out in person anyways.

Stan has gotten better with his vomiting issues over the years, but he still struggles to hold back nausea when he’s with you. He’s just so overwhelmed with how much he loves you that he can’t help it.

Despite the fact that Stan cannot stand his dad, Randy ADORES you. His son? Got a girlfriend?? He tries so hard to be friends with you (and sell you weed). Stan always tries to get his dad to knock it off, ashamed by Randy’s antics, but Randy doesn’t really care. Even though Stan’s dad is super overbearing, at least you’re always welcome at the Marsh house.

Kenny:

I’m sure we’re all aware of this by now, but Kenny is SUCH a flirt. Even before you two were together he was constantly dropping flirty and suggestive lines on you.

Occasionally, when you and Kenny are hanging out with other friends, he’ll lean into you and whisper the most suggestive shit into your ear and then continue to act like he never said anything to you.

Kenny is also very physically affectionate, when he’s with you he’s always touching you, but he’s usually just holding your hand. He probably does that thing where he swings his arm back and forth while walking and holding your hand and it’s really cute.

Like Stan, Kenny is with you most of the time. He loves you so much and he literally cannot get himself away from you. He finds himself often escaping his shitty home life to go hang out with you.

You and Kenny also become smoke buddies. Usually when you’re over at his house you chill in his room and share a joint, and talk about whatever comes to your mind. He thinks it’s so fun to get high with you.

But when you’re not in his room smoking, you find yourself playing with Karen. Karen sees you as an older sister figure and looks up to you so much. Kenny is so protective over Karen, so when he sees you two doing something cute like playing dolls, he knows he found the best s/o he could possibly have.

Kenny is really generous, and although he’s poor, he does his best to spoil you. He still works at City Wok, and he uses his extra money to get both you and Karen gifts. Besides physical affection, this is one of his biggest ways to show his love for you :)

Cartman:

Your relationship with Cartman is the type where both of you can insult and bully each other as a form of affection. Sometimes it sounds so real that others are unsure if you love or hate each other, but you two both know well that it’s the first option.

Cartman will hit you with an insult, and you return one right back to him. Maybe that’s why you two are so close? Since you can tolerate Cartman’s crude humor and behavior and reciprocate it right back to him he fell for you.

Nobody really has ever enjoyed being bothered by him except you. Cartman LOVES anyone who understands his humor and plays along with his banter, especially when other people like Kyle or Butters are involved.

Cartman takes you out to KFC and other restaurants on the regular. One time he even convinced his mom to buy tickets for the both of you to go to Casa Bonita. That date was definitely one of his favorites with you.

You’re good at calming Cartman down when his anger issues get out of hand. When he starts taking arguments with his classmates too far, you’re there to help cool him down. You’re often his source of sense when he’s too upset to think clearly.

If you ever give Cartman any gifts, no matter what it is, he will always keep it around. He’ll treasure it as much as he treasured his stuffed animals from elementary school. He’d have a shelf of his bookcase dedicated to things you’ve made for him or gave him, and he thinks of them very fondly.

His mom is surprised that Cartman found someone he gets along so well with, and you manage to keep his temper in check better than anyone else has. She loves having you around, you treat her and her son so kindly after all.