#here we go everyone buckle up!

[dindjarindiaries]

Security - Chapter 67: The Capture

summary: Conflict arises on Mandalore as Astra, Din, and the rest of the scouting party find themselves running into their worst nightmare.

warnings: canon-typical violence, injuries (incl. blood), references to trauma, angst, strong language

rating: T

word count: 5.546k

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chapter 67: the capture

By the next morning’s daybreak, Astra and Din have already been briefed on the new plan. The Armorer is to take the wounded and weakened survivors to the rest of the fleet on the Gauntlet while the rest, most notably their captain, bring the scouting party to the Great Forge. They’ve just helped the Armorer get the wounded aboard when the captain calls to his brethren.

“Onward, Mandalorians!” he commands. “To the Forge!”

Astra, Din, and Grogu stand alongside Bo-Katan as the glider heads further and further away from where the Gauntlet’s now taking off. There’s an ache trapped between Astra’s chest and the beskar armor that covers it. The ship is getting closer to the fleet, where the rest of the Mandalorians continue to wait for them; Where her daughter waits.

Part of Astra wishes she was on that ship right now, heading back to take Zora in her arms and never let her go.

Then the touch of Din’s hand upon her back grounds Astra to reality again, and she doesn’t regret a single effort spent helping him and his people. After all, they’re her people now, too. Astra turns her head to look up at him and the way his visor tilts at her convinces that everything will be okay. Din touches his helmet to her forehead before he steps away to lead the group back towards the rest of the scouting party.

The four of them are on the upper deck looking out at the Mandalorians gathered below when Grogu comes to Astra’s side. She turns her gaze towards him and watches the wrinkles on his tiny forehead multiply. Grogu coos, a question Astra doesn’t need to translate to answer.

Astra just smiles the best she can. Grogu closes his eyes and no later does Astra earn a strong sensation of relieving warmth in her chest. It’s too overpowering to have been caused by Grogu’s energy alone. Astra’s smile becomes more genuine when Grogu reopens his eyes and gives her a hopeful glance. She takes one of his little hands in hers and brushes her thumb over it.

“Thank you,” Astra whispers to him. She lifts her hand to brush her fingers along his ear. Grogu coos as his big brown eyes light up at her.

Astra’s almost surprised by Din taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. She turns her head towards him and finds comfort in the dark void of his visor. Din’s voice is low when he speaks to her. “I felt it, too.”

Astra smiles before her gaze falls to her feet. She hears Din’s armor rustle as he steps even closer to her side and waits patiently for her. Astra tries to piece together what she wants to say in her mind, but each one comes with an apology.

Din’s free hand presses underneath Astra’s chin to urge her to lift her head once again and face him. He keeps his gloved fingers there, encouraging her to seek refuge in him. Astra’s more than grateful to oblige. “It’s okay.” Din’s voice is so soft it crackles through his modulator. He adds a reassuring nod. “I’ve been worrying about her, too.”

Astra sighs and lets her vulnerability show for only just a moment. “Will it always be this way?”

“It will.” Din huffs with amusement and gives her hand another squeeze. “Who are we if not worriers over our loved ones?”

Astra laughs with him and closes her eyes, steadying herself with a breath. “You’re right.” She meets Din’s visor again. “She’s okay.”

“And she’ll continue to be.” Din nods once more before he lowers his hands from her and stands where he was before.

It’s not long before they’re pulled aside by Bo-Katan to discuss the Great Forge in more depth, as well as strategy for multiple contingencies. Grogu has since gone to join the other Mandalorians as they watch Paz and Axe play a board game. Astra checks up on him over her shoulder every once in a while, but what grabs everyone’s attention isn’t from Astra’s own observation. It’s from the heightened volume of Paz’s and Axe’s voices.

Din shares a look with their small group before he stands and makes his way over to the railing. Bo-Katan and Astra follow, and Astra’s close enough to Din to hear the sigh he lets out at the sight of Paz standing with his vibroblade drawn. Astra’s eyes widen as she looks up at Din, who returns her glance with a reassuring tilt of his helmet.

Astra furrows her brow at her husband. “Shouldn’t we do something about this?” she whispers to him.

Din sets a hand on her back and gestures with his helmet to the brewing fight. “Let’s wait and see.”

Astra’s attention snaps back to Paz just in time to watch Axe lunge towards him. The two go back-and-forth with pushes that quickly turn to punches. Astra’s brought back to the duel she witnessed between Din and Paz, though thankfully, the stakes are much lower for her in this one.

Once the fight has gone on longer than expected, Din exhales and lowers his hand from Astra’s back. He swings his helmet towards Bo-Katan. His voice is low when he speaks to her. “Should I step in?”

Bo-Katan shakes her head at him. “Neither side can step in.” She raises her brow at the sight in front of them. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Din shifts his weight between his feet and doesn’t respond. Astra crosses her arms over her cuirass and moves herself closer to his side. Her gaze watches him rather than the fight, but when she follows where his visor is looking, she discovers the real reason for his strong unease. Right near the heart of the fight is Grogu, who wears an expression of distress within IG-12 as he watches the two Mandalorians fight.

Astra’s about to make a move to take Grogu away from the chaos when he takes the initiative of stepping directly towards it. She has to hold back a gasp when he steps between two swinging vibroblades held by the fierce warriors. She’s only a moment from activating her jetpack to make her way down to Grogu when IG-12’s arms push Paz and Axe away from each other.

Grogu’s tiny finger begins to spam the “no” button. “No. No. No. No. No.” A worried stitch sits between his enlarged and pleading eyes.

The tension leaves Astra only when Grogu’s actions get the two warriors to successfully stand down. The shame is clear on both their faces at the fact a child had to step in between them. Paz and Axe share an almost apologetic look before they walk away from each other once and for all.

With the threat to Grogu now eliminated, Astra lets herself smile in pride of their son. She glances up at Din just as he sets a gloved hand on her shoulder, the tilt of his helmet a hint to the smile that’s also shining underneath his beskar.

Her attention is drawn to Bo-Katan when the heiress speaks to them. “You taught your apprentice well.”

Din shrugs and gestures to Astra. “He didn’t learn that from me.”

Astra scoffs and nudges his armored shoulder with her own. “That’s simply not true.” She nods at Bo-Katan. “He taught Grogu very well.”

Din swings his helmet in his shyness. Astra chuckles and watches as he nods in Grogu’s direction. She turns her head and sees Grogu nodding back at him.

Astra grins at Grogu and looks up at her husband once again. “He’s ready to be an apprentice.”

Din tilts his helmet at her. “This adventure’s not over yet, rid’ika.” He softens when he glances at Grogu again. “But I agree with you.”

Astra’s about to say more when a whistle stops her from doing so. “There!” one of the survivors calls out from above them. “On the starboard bow!”

All the Mandalorians on the deck below them rise to approach the starboard bow. Concerned chatter makes its way around the ship while Astra rests her hands on the railing in front of them to get a better view. Din sets a careful hand on her back as he steps alongside her to do the same thing.

That’s when they all see the rock structures in the distance moving. The jagged rocks reveal themselves to be spikes on the back of what’s shaping up to be a massive, and no doubt dangerous, creature.

The Mandalorians prepare for battle and Din wastes no time at Astra’s side in making his way down to the lower deck. She follows him closely, her eyes widening in horror as the horizon disappears and crumbles into crashing rock. The creature emerges from it with a roar that makes the entire vessel shake.

Everyone races to take defensive positions while the survivors attempt to steer the ship away from the massive creature. Their efforts are in vain when the creature rocks the ship so hard that the Mandalorians get knocked from their feet. Din grabs Astra’s waist just in time to cushion her fall however he can.

“Abandon ship!” the survivors’ captain calls out.

Astra and Din make it back onto their feet while the others start to jetpack away, but there’s only one thought screaming in her mind. “Grogu!” she cries out in panic.

Din tries to clear a path for both of them through the masses to get to Grogu, but before they can even get close, both Paz and Axe work together to lift Grogu off the ship. Astra doesn’t have time for relief. Din takes her by the hand to lead her off the ship with him just before the creature’s tail destroys the ship in one blow. Without a helmet, Astra’s face gets hit with small pieces of the debris, causing her to lift her free arm to guard herself the best she can.

They follow the others towards the mouth of a cave. Din and Astra land just outside as the others do, but rather than going right inside, Din quickly turns to Astra and holds her face. “Find Grogu!” he urges her, raising his voice above the commotion.

Astra nods and doesn’t hesitate to comply. The warmth in her chest at the way he stays to help those behind them is overshadowed by her panic as she hops inside the cave and looks for IG-12’s tall figure. Astra doesn’t hold back her deep exhale of relief when she sees him flanked by Paz and Axe just a few paces away. She approaches him and takes IG-12 by the shoulders. “Are you okay?” she asks him.

Grogu coos in the affirmative, yet wrinkles his brow as he points at her face. Astra takes a moment to wipe her gloved fingers over a stinging part of her face and finds a small streak of blood left behind.

“I’m all right,” Astra assures her son. “It’s just from the debris.”

It’s not long before Din makes it over to them. He sets a hand on each of their shoulders. “You good?” he asks, looking between them. They both nod, but Din’s helmet tilts with dismay as he lifts a hand to the side of her head. “Your face is bleeding.”

“Just a couple of scratches.” Astra sets a hand over his. “I’m fine.”

The creature’s roar rocks the cave around them, causing everyone to brace themselves. “We’re not far,” the captain raises his voice to inform the group. “We need to go further down.”

The Mandalorians begin to follow his orders. The captain remains where he is to make sure everyone’s made it ahead. Din, Astra, and Grogu stay together as a unit while they follow the others, making their way deeper into the cave. The further they get inside, the more the rumbling subsides, promising safety in a way that makes Astra’s chest loosen just a bit more.

The twisting tunnels eventually open up into a massive clearing. The group, propped up on a tall ledge, slows as they look out at the wide-open structures in the rock. Grogu coos with curiosity behind Din and Astra as they continue to keep him shielded. Some of the Mandalorians remove their helmets as they stride ahead and observe the space around them. Astra looks up and her jaw drops open at the complexity of the structures that rise tall above their heads.

Din takes a quick glance at Paz, who’s since taken his place alongside them. “Where are we?” Din questions.

Axe becomes the one to answer. “This is what’s left of the Great Forge.” His voice is tense as he goes on. “This was once the heart of our civilization.” He pauses, and Astra exchanges a look with Din. He keeps himself close enough to her side for it to brush against his own. “But the fires have been extinguished since the bombings.”

“You lived here?” Paz asks.

“We all did,” Koska responds.

“We never left,” the captain adds. Astra watches the way he regards the space with such reverence and appreciation. “Survived by migrating along the surface until the war ended. Some tried to explore below, but none survived.”

Silence blankets the area for a moment, but it’s quickly broken by a distant whooshing. Din takes a step forward as his visor rises. “Jetpacks?”

Every head turns at Din’s words. Astra’s eyes start to widen as she spots the group of approaching fighters. “More survivors?” Axe suggests.

When they get closer, his question is answered. “Those aren’t Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan warns, setting her helmet back over her head. The group follows suit and draws their weapons. Astra’s blaster is in her hand and firing without a single moment to waste.

The armored fighters fire without hesitation at the Mandalorians, causing both Din and Astra to continue shielding Grogu with their own armor. Once they’re closer, their white armor becomes apparent, causing the group to fall upon a horrifying conclusion. “They’re Imperials!” Axe says the truth for all of them.

Din turns to Grogu and urges him behind one of the rock structures. “Take cover!” he instructs their son, who obeys without question. Astra and Din continue to remain in front of him as they counter the Imperial attack.

“How did we not run into them our first time here?” Astra asks Din, raising her voice over the firefight.

“We got lucky,” Din remarks. “It makes sense that those TIE interceptors found us on Kalevala, though.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Axe giving a warning to them all. “They’re wearing beskar armor!”

Astra watches Din’s demeanor change even more at those words. His body tenses with volatile anger that Astra doesn’t dare try to control. Wearing beskar without bathing in the Living Waters or taking the Creed is a violation Din takes very seriously. His first meeting with Cobb Vanth proved that.

But this truth also creates a dangerous problem: These Imperials won’t be taken down nearly as easily as the typical stormtrooper.

“We’re pinned down,” Din calls out. “We need backup.”

“I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements,” Axe volunteers.

“No, it’s too far,” Bo-Katan insists.

“I can make it,” Axe assures her. “It’s our only shot at taking the planet back.”

And staying alive, Astra holds her tongue.

“There’s a split in the ceiling there,” Paz observes. “I’ll lay down cover.”

Din and Astra provide extra support as Axe makes his run. He successfully flies his way out of the cave, providing Astra with a moment of relief. It turns to thick dread when a realization falls upon her. “How will he communicate with the fleet?” Astra asks Din. “The atmosphere’s still cutting us off.”

Din tilts his helmet. “Then he’ll fly through it.”

Astra’s brow lifts in disbelief. “Will he make it?”

Din dodges a blaster bolt and reciprocates the blast. “We’ll find out.”

Astra takes a glance around to see more and more Mandalorians falling at the endless rain of blaster fire. The Imperials still have the high ground and the advantage of moving around more easily. Some of them even start to land on the cliff the Mandalorians are pinned to, overpowering them in a way that makes fear claw at Astra’s chest for the first time in too long.

One Imperial tries to fly directly at Din, Astra, and Grogu, but Din doesn’t hesitate to approach him first. He uses a single arm to tackle the trooper to the ground before blasting him over and over again. It’s only when the trooper’s motionless that Din returns to Astra’s side.

“This isn’t a sustainable position,” Astra tells him, her voice strained with worry. “We’re way too exposed here. They’ll pick us off way before backup arrives.”

“I know,” Din agrees. “But…”

He pauses when a shocking shift starts to turn in the tide of the firefight. The Imperials start to fall back, sprinting away from the Forge and the attacking Mandalorians. “They’re retreating!” Paz confirms the sight Astra still can’t bring herself to believe.

“Advance!” Bo-Katan commands the group. She leads the way into the tunnel the Imperial troopers have started to escape through.

“For Mandalore!” some of the group starts to call out while they file behind Bo-Katan.

Din turns around to face Grogu. “Okay, kid,” he’s gentle yet urgent with his words. “You’ve gotta keep up.”

Grogu nods, and the three of them take off without another word. Astra stays at Din’s side with Grogu close behind them, following the lead of the rest of the group. The more they go on, the more Astra notices Din preparing to advance to the front. As badly as she wants to join him, she forces herself to listen to her motherly instincts. “Din,” she calls for him, earning his attention even as they continue to run. “Go ahead to the front. I’ll stay back with Grogu.”

Din gives her a quick glance. “Are you sure?”

Astra offers him a nod and the best smile she can manage. “I’m sure. That’s where you’re needed.” She takes his free hand and gives it a quick squeeze. “Be careful.”

“You too.” Din lifts their entwined hands to his cuirass. “Ni kar’tayl—.”

“—Gar darasuum.” Astra finishes with a fond nod of her head. Din releases her hand and sprints his way to the front, causing Astra to steady herself with a breath as she glances at Grogu. “You’re doing great, ad’ika! Stay with me, okay?”

Grogu nods and keeps IG-12 in stride with her. The tunnel transforms from a cutout in the rock structure to an Imperial-reinforced walkway. The structures alongside them remind Astra all too well of Star Destroyers and light cruisers, like the one she’d once been imprisoned on. She keeps Grogu close at her side and buries her worries in favor of shooting at any of the lingering Imperials. Astra doesn’t have much work to do with Din plowing through them at the front, using his body as a shield. She’s struck with the conflicting feelings of admiration for his strength and worry.

It’s not long before the tunnel at last opens up into an expansive space where the Imperials start to take flight with their jetpacks once again. The group continues to shoot after them, but stops with nowhere left to go. Astra struggles to see from where she stands in the group, but when the group stops shooting in favor of looking around, her stomach drops with dread. All she really needs to see is the collection of TIE fighters docked above their heads to understand what’s happening.

“It’s a trap,” Astra breathes to herself in disbelief.

“What is this place?” Bo-Katan asks aloud.

A hiss from behind them confirms that a blast door’s just locked them inside. Astra’s body finally catches up to her mind as she starts trying to fight her way to the front. “It’s a trap!” she exclaims. Her blood turns to ice when she notices where the threshold of the next blast door is.

And Din’s standing on the other side of it.

“Din!” Astra cries out. “It’s a trap!”

Din whips his head around to face her, but it’s too late. Astra gets to the blast door just as it falls, causing her to run right into it. Her body shakes with a mixture of anger and fear so intense that it consumes her. There’s no way for her to get to him. “It’s an ambush!” Din says the words that only make Astra’s heart fall even more. Now, she’s forced to watch as the Imperials descend upon Din and the other three Mandalorians he’s trapped with.

They’re outnumbered, with no cover and no way for the rest of the group to get to them. “No,” Astra chokes the word out, looking away from the sight only to search the walls for a control panel. “Is there a panel?” She’s in denial the more she goes on. “There has to be a way.”

Astra’s attention is drawn from the things around her when the light of the flames from Din’s gauntlet light up the small space. He’s fighting for his life, and she’s being forced to watch in the cruelest way. The other Mandalorians alongside him have already fallen in defeat, leaving just Din with at least eight Imperials advancing on him.

Astra bangs her fist on the transparisteel of the blast door. “Din!” she calls out. She doesn’t know what else to do or to say. Her body’s in fight or flight and it only intensifies the closer the Imperials get to her husband. The others are still joining Astra in her efforts to take down the blast door somehow, but it’s an impossible task.

One of the Imperials catches Din’s wrist with a fibercord whip. He tries to shoot them down, but there’s too many other troopers to worry about. Astra hits the transparisteel with both her fists, now, the adrenaline masking the ache her desperate actions create. She hits it with all her strength, watching as another fibercord whip catches Din by his neck and pulls him back.

“Din!” Astra’s well aware of the fact her calls for him won’t do anything, but she can’t stop herself. She pulls her fist back to give the transparisteel a full-powered punch, repeating the action over and over again until the skin of her knuckles even underneath her glove goes raw.

Din’s flamethrower stops when his second wrist is caught, leaving him defenseless once and for all. He doesn’t stop fighting even as the Imperials cross over each other to pin Din’s arms against his chest. Astra can only see red when they start forcing Din to his knees, and she’s quick to reach for her vibroblade. She brings her arm back with the intention of hitting the weapon hard enough against the transparisteel to break it, but the motion’s stopped by someone’s grip behind her. Astra fights it until they start to speak to her.

“No,” IG-12’s voice pleads with her. Astra turns her head to face their son, whose expression is just as devastated as Astra’s own. “No.” Grogu lets out a desperate coo, as if he’s begging for her to stop.

Astra nods at him, the action as numb as the sheathing of her vibroblade. She turns back to the sight of Din through the door, who’s now been fully forced to the ground. Bo-Katan sets a hand on Astra’s shoulder, but she can barely sense it. Her attention’s been drawn to someone who’s just landed a few paces away from Din, dressed head-to-toe in black beskar. Their helmet is decorated with red accents and sparse black spikes.

“Disarm him,” their modulated voice demands.

Din struggles against the two Imperials at his sides as they pull whatever weaponry they can away from him. His jetpack and blaster get thrown aside, along with his vibroblade and all of his whistling birds. Astra hasn’t felt this helpless since she watched the cyborg do the very same thing to him.

She should’ve listened to Din’s warning about returning to Mandalore.

The figure in black approaches Din in a sinister stride. Astra’s gloved hands curl up into fists, with one stinging from all of her desperate punches. Once they stop, they tear their helmet from their head, revealing their identity and making Astra’s heart sink into the depths of her being.

Moff Gideon. Moff fucking Gideon.

Astra tries to make another move for the transparisteel, but both Bo-Katan and IG-12 hold her back. Her chest is heaving from anger, desperation, and trauma. She hasn’t seen this man ever since he tried to kill both her and Grogu, and now, he’s taking her husband. Even the blast door between them doesn’t hide Din’s own growl as he’s forced to look up at Gideon.

“Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place,” Gideon begins. Bo-Katan’s hand lowers from Astra as she stares him down through her visor. “You were a talented people, but your time has passed. However, as you can see,” Gideon lifts his arms to show off his armor, “Mandalore will live on in me.”

Astra can’t look away from Din, who once again tries to fight the Imperials’ group on him. They keep him pinned down.

“Thanks to your planet’s rich resources,” Gideon goes on, “I have created the next generation Dark Trooper suit forged from beskar alloy.”

He walks even closer to Din, until he’s standing right in front of him. Astra has to fight her hardest not to try to break through the door once again. Gideon looks at Din as he continues. 

“And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it. You see, every society has something to offer.” Gideon looks up at Bo-Katan through the transparisteel. “The cloners. The Jedi.” Grogu coos in sadness behind Astra. “And even the Mandalorians.”

The group starts to rustle with unrest and volatile anger at Gideon’s vile words.

“By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy.” Astra sees Din trembling with the same fury as herself. “Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise?”

Just when Astra thought it couldn’t get any worse, her own breath goes sour in her lungs. Zora. Din must fall upon the same realization, because now, he won’t stop fighting to free himself.

“Activate the interceptors and bombers,” Gideon orders.

“No!” Bo-Katan gasps in panic.

The Imperials are quick in preparing themselves to get to their ships. Gideon smirks in pure delight and victory. “In but a few moments,” he states, “the Purge of Mandalore will be complete.”

Astra stumbles back a step, her mind now plagued with thoughts she can’t begin to process. Zora was supposed to be safe with the fleet. We thought this through so many times. Astra’s caught by IG-12, and she turns to look at Grogu again. Despite the horrors at hand, Grogu offers her a reassuring look, as if he’s trying to convince her that Zora will be okay. Astra maintains her strength for him and focuses back on Gideon and Din, her anger once again taking precedence.

“It looks like I’m not the only one with new armor,” Gideon says, his gaze now meeting Astra’s own. “Did they give you that after what happened when we last met, Princess?”

Astra sneers at him. “Fuck you.”

Gideon raises his brow, amused. “What a vulgar thing for someone of your rank to say.” Gideon’s gaze falls to Din. “Is that the mouth you kiss?”

“Proudly,” Din doesn’t hesitate to answer.

Gideon begins to smirk at him. “Makes sense with how quickly your family’s grown.”

Din’s voice is a growl more hostile than Astra’s ever heard him before. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about my family.”

“Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about them.” Gideon nods at the Imperials at Din’s sides. “Take him to the debriefing room.”

The Imperials close in on Din to lift him from the ground and drag him away. Din doesn’t stop fighting even once. Astra wants to do the same, but she also doesn’t want to give Gideon the satisfaction. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in a lame attempt to calm the wave of rage that crashes against her over and over again.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Bo-Katan speaks up.

Gideon turns from where he’s been watching over Din’s removal to meet Bo’s visor. “Bo-Katan.” His voice is light with amusement as he goes on. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Bo-Katan takes a threatening step closer to the blast door. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Gideon smiles. “Let’s stop the pleasantries, shall we?” His smile drops as he starts to approach the door. “I believe this is the part where you return the Darksaber to its rightful owner.”

Gideon stops and stares Bo-Katan down. She lifts the Darksaber in her hand as if she’s teasing him.

“Now, surrender the Darksaber, and tell these people that this planet is mine.”

Bo-Katan looks over at Astra. She nods at their ally, her patience just as worn as the Mandalorian leader’s. Bo then nods at Paz, who speaks on their behalf. “This is the Way.”

Astra stays at Paz’s side when he leads the group in firing their weapons. She extends her blaster and fires while Bo-Katan makes her way to the door behind them and starts to cut a way out with the Darksaber. “Open the blast doors,” Gideon orders. “Kill them.”

Gideon sets his helmet over his head and flies away just as the blast door opens. Astra watches him and raises her voice loud enough over the firefight for him to hear her. “Coward!” She focuses on protecting Grogu while also making a vicious attack on any Imperial she can reach, using a fluid rotation of her blaster, her vibroblade, and her fibercord whip.

There’s a trail of at least three Imperial troopers at Astra’s feet by the time Bo-Katan gives her command. “Move out!”

“Move out!” the Mandalorians echo.

“Fall back!” Paz insists. “I’ll cover the rear!”

Astra’s tempted to keep killing as many Imperials as she can grab, but for Grogu’s sake, she takes him by the arm and urges them towards Bo-Katan. “Go, go, go!” the Mandalorians continue to call out. They climb out of the circular hole Bo’s carved one-by-one, reentering the tunnel. Astra urges Grogu out before herself.

While they wait for Bo-Katan and Paz, Astra pulls Grogu aside and holds IG-12 by the shoulders. “Grogu, ad’ika,” she says, her voice breathless but certain, “your father and your sister need our help. We need to be at our best for them. Okay?”

Grogu nods, cooing to agree with her. He closes his eyes for a moment before he points towards the direction in which they took Din.

“Can you sense where your father is?” Grogu nods once again. Astra sighs in determination and nods. “Good. Very good.” She starts to deflate and glances over her shoulder at the thought of her daughter.

Bo-Katan’s approach keeps Astra from going on. “Come on,” Bo urges the two of them. “We have to go.”

Astra wrinkles her brow, but obeys the command. “Where’s Paz?”

Bo-Katan’s helmet stiffens. “He’s not coming.”

Astra grabs Bo-Katan by the arm. “What do you mean, he’s not coming?”

Bo-Katan holsters one of her blasters to take a gentle grasp on Astra’s wrist. “He’s sacrificing himself for us. I tried to convince him not to.”

Astra’s gaze falls to the floor. She swallows hard and can barely speak past the lump in her throat. “So many losses.”

“I concur.” Bo-Katan and Astra move forward with Grogu at their side. Bo continues to glance over at Astra. “If you two want to go after Din, you should do it now.”

Astra wants to fall apart just at the sound of his name, but she keeps herself strong. “But, Zora…” Astra can’t make it past her name. The look she gives Bo-Katan is nothing short of desperate.

“We’ll take care of the fleet, including your daughter,” Bo assures her with a firm hand upon her armored shoulder. “Go get your husband.”

Astra takes a deep breath and nods. “Thank you, Bo-Katan.”

Bo returns the gesture. “This is the Way.”

Astra somehow manages to smile at her. “This is the Way.” She wastes no time as she focuses her attention on her son. “Are you ready, Grogu?”

Grogu nods, his brow now etched with pure determination. Astra offers him the smile she’d shown Bo-Katan and lifts her blaster.

“Lead the way.”

Grogu closes his eyes and does what she says, his IG-12 suit using an impressive amount of speed as he takes Astra to wherever Din’s being held. All she can do is focus on him and pray to the stars that they’re not too late.

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[anti-cosmofangirl]

Stratos in your comic will have more background than the original series? Also, do you think that the Pac mundo government is not as good as it appears in the cartoon?

For a while, Pac World's beloved president will be quite mysterious except for a few hints! As the comic progresses (if I get that far), we will get to learn more!

And is the government not as good as it appears to be? Well, there might be a reason Stratos is keeping secrets . . .

[foldingfittedsheets]

Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.

Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.

After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.

Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).

They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.

I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.

The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.

Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.

What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!

I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”

My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.

“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”

I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.

“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”

Reader, Betty’s bathroom.

Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.

These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.

But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.

By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.

“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.

After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

[taintedcigs]

— late night blues

pairing: roommate bsf!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you can’t seem to sleep, so eddie offers to drive you around, but you have something else in mind that can make you relax and help you fall asleep faster; his fingers. (wc: 3.1k+)

author's note: not proofread. entirely self-indulgent. and normally i would gaf about interactions but i literally dont rn. i needed this <3 and for all my insomniacs out there... i appreciate u and i am u. hope this is like a warm/horny hug to all of u as much as it is to me. bc i need it desperately. the ending is kinda rushed i am so v sorry. pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Hogging the blanket you sank deeper into the couch, the light illuminating from the TV screen enough to have you squinting, but never enough to lull you into sleep.

You huff, impatiently, trying to shut off the voices in your head, thoughts swirling around everywhere and anywhere, making it impossible to let you embrace the sweet sleep you so desperately need.

"Why are you awake?" A low groan of Eddie's voice almost startles you, slight gasp leaving your lips, making you sit up straight with a deep breath.

"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, "didn't wanna wake you."

"Should've," he grumbles, stomping on his way next to you, "y'know I can't sleep knowing you're awake, right?" A lazy smile is placed on his lips when he slouches right next to you.

The couch sinks with the impact and so does your stomach, the implications of his words not going unnoticed, the two of you have always been close, too fucking close to being considered as just friends.

Yet, none of you ever made any effort.

And you were growing tired of it, because, shit, did you like him. And a part of you, as well as everyone else in the gang kept teasing you about, told you he liked you too. Just waiting to be pushed.

"Wanna smoke?" He asked with a hum, "might help you sleep better." The brunette placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, another act the two of you always did, affectionate, too affectionate to be just friends, yet none of you ever dwelled on it, despite it leaving your entire body on fire in its wake, and Eddie's stomach churn with delight as you always smiled up at him. Sweet, almost peaceful, making you nod quietly, looking so fatigued that his chest ached for you.

"Was t'tired... couldn't roll one." You point toward the mess on the coffee table, grinder open with strains stuck in it, crumpled-up rolling papers, and a bunch of filters sprawled everywhere.

"How about we take a drive, princess?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the pad of his thumb slowly circling your face, tender and making you melt into him.

You shake your head quickly, not wanting to bother him in any way. "Eds, it's too late, I don't want you to-"

But he's quick to scoff. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Eddie, I mean it, we can just smoke this here and-" He tuts you quickly, already getting up, his Garfield sweatpants fully in view, making you giggle.

He takes your hand in his, dragging you while you huff and puff. "Grab a jacket or one of my hoodies, and let's fuckin' roll, honey."

Once you throw over one of his oversized hoodies, he almost carries you to the car, not wanting you to lose that sleepy state, knowing that it'd be hard for you to get it back.

You buckle your seatbelt, just watching him in his groove, head falling into the headrest as you admire him rolling a joint so quickly that it makes your head spin. "How the fuck can you do that?" You groan, "'s not fair." A pout overtakes your lips, causing him to grin. He wants to kiss it away, yet all he does is tuck the strands of your hair that are covering your features, turning your lips into a mellow smile, matching his.

"Well it helps if you were a dealer in high school." He rambles, a hearty giggle escaping from your lips, "I'll teach you some time too, honey, promise." You nod in acceptance, and another kiss is planted on your forehead, one you happily accept, let his warmth overtake your skin, eyes glazy and lidded as you look up at him, sleep deprivation so apparent in your face that it tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, seeing you this miserable. And not being able to do anything about it. Yet.

Quickly retrieving the lighter from his back pocket, he places the rollie on his lips, letting the igniting flame heat it quickly, sizzling sound as he inhales a small huff before passing it onto you calming you further.

You suck on it with a hum, watching the way Eddie quickly turns on the ignition, windows rolled down, the same relaxing tape playing over and over again, volume dimmed, Good Feeling by Violet Femmes serves as a background drop, one of your favorite songs, and of course, Eddie knows it.

The velvety dark sky steals your attention as you once again suck on the fragrant joint gently cradled between your fingers. Letting it engulf and numb you, for your bloodshot eyes to have a reason other than being restless.

A gentle breeze whispers through the cranked windows, rustling your hair in front of your face, making you giggle lightly. Three puffs, and you are already feeling giddy, "not too strong is it?" he asks, glancing at you with the biggest grin on his face, amber hues watching you intently.

"Nuh-uh," you hum, and his hand tenderly droops down to your thighs, giving you three gentle squeezes as a form of comfort. At least, he intends it to be for comfort.

But all you can think about is how thick and warm his fingertips are, cladded rings bringing a coldness that makes you hiss, tummy doing a flip as your hazy mind craves more.

It is the last piece of the puzzle you need to finally fall into that deep slumber, Eddie making you cum on his long fingers, curling inside of you, rings slicked with your juices, it's all you can think about.

You whine at your thoughts, throat growing dry at them, not knowing if it is cotton mouth or how stunning Eddie looks while focused on the road.

The perfect side profile that you can't help but admire; chiseled jaw with the slightest stubble that you'd do anything to have it rubbing against your clit right about now, Adam's apple bobbing slightly the more he gulped, lips plushy and so soft that you wanted nothing more than to bite into them, have them suckling your neck.

Fuck, this could be it, couldn't it?

You were already a bit dizzy, giving you enough courage to ask him to, and if he rejected you, you could always just turn it into a joke, couldn't you?

You rasp a desperate breath when his hands squeeze your thigh again, prominent veins making you mewl. His head cocks towards you in worry at the sound, "you okay?"

You barely register his words, gaze too focused on the tempting hold he has on you, "hmm?"

He quirks a brow, a smirk playing on his lips when he realizes how hazed you are, "are you hungry or something, sweetheart?"

Yeah, you were. Hungry for him.

You shake your head slightly. "You sure?" He asks, more attentive, and you can feel your wetness pool around your thighs, slicking you.

"Mhmm," you reply, head turning to meet his gaze, and when he slightly tilts his head, his shaggy bangs fall onto his forehead, making you gulp physically, he looks beautiful.

"Do you want anything?"

If he was any more attentive, you were going to crawl into his lap and grind on his bulge that hugged the print of Garfield on his sweatpants, "Nope," you gulped, prying your eyes away from the outline of his huge cock forcefully.

"Need anything?"

"You." The words slipped past your lips without any interference from you, it's like your subconscious was doing all the talking you had been so afraid of.

The insomnia and weed becoming a dangerous combo.

He choked out a laugh, cheeks crimson red, spreading across his bone like crushed raspberries. "Hah, funny aren't ya?"

He avoided your gaze, yet your head snapped to meet his. "Eddie- I-I mean it."

"Sweetheart," he mumbled, a low groan awaiting in his throat.

Doe-eyed, melting, and pleading hues finally met his. "P-please, Eddie, need it so bad, need to cum, relax," you coaxed, hand placed on his, squeezing it back, causing a drawl of sigh out of him.

He can't bring himself to ease into your touch, his lips quivering at the thought of finding you soaking for him, "Honey, you're high," he tries to reason, voice squeaky pitch, he wants it, so goddamn bad, but he can't take advantage of you in any way.

You huff, disagreeingly. "Oh, c'mon, Eddie, I just took like three huffs, you know I'm not a lightweight!"

"Sweetheart, I know but it doesn't feel right-"

"But I'm begging you to!" Your pleading voice crushes him, cock stirring just at your squeaky tone, you're going to be the fucking death of him.

"Y-you have no idea how fucking stupid I feel for turning you down when all I want to-" He sighed. "I don't wanna do anything that you might regret."

You huff at that, does he not realize how desperately you want him? How badly you have wanted him all this time?

"Fuck, Eddie, just-" Fingertips graze his once you grab his rough hands, they are powerless in your hold, and you're quick to dip them down your pajamas, rubbing them against your cotton panties that are now entirely soaked with your juices. "Do you feel that?" Your voice is shaky, and low groans rumble in his chest, his focus on the road becoming dizzy.

It feels surreal, you begging for him, for his fingers, how wet your panties feel just because of him. His brain can't comprehend a thought, your name slipping past his lips like prayers.

He can't help but press his hand further against your panties, just to feel more of you, cock straining against his own cage of boxers, knuckles white from the harsh grip he has on the steering wheel.

And you can see the desperation in his eyes, spurring you more and more. "How fucking wet I am just because you squeezed my thigh? Do you think I'd regret anything when I'm this soaked for you?"

He can't help it, roaring the engine again before he abruptly comes to a stop on the side of the road, his mind too dizzy to comprehend anyfuckingthing. "Fucking christ, baby, I-"

You interrupt him again, head lulling to his side, giving him those desperate, lewd eyes again. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, Eddie, p-please, you said you'd help me sleep... relax, I'm more than okay with it."

You know he's on the verge of caving in, he wants this as much as you do. "Angel..." he mumbles, tone so pornographically lustful that you feel the need to show him how much you want him.

You shove his hands inside of your panties in frustration, and he groans lightly at it, fingertips run up and down your slit, never entering your hole, taking his time to fully feel how badly you want him.

He collects your wetness at the tip of his digits, smearing them over the hood of your clit, earning a shallow gasp from you, just enough to break him, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, you're soaked," he grunts, eyes watching you hungrily.

"Mhmm, all for you," you hum, head thrown comfortably into the headrest, eyes lulling. He runs his fingertips over your sides, teasing, covering you in your juices, and all you can do is mewl for him.

A digit slips inside of you easily, making you moan so loud that Eddie's cock aches in the confinements of his sweats, admiring the way your mouth gapes at how good his fingers feel. "God, you're perfect like this, princess," he hums, fingertips circling around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to get you worked up.

It makes you whimper pathetically, turns out Eddie really does know you. So much so that all you want to do is cum on his thick fingers, have him take you home, make you bounce on his cock again and again.

He pushes another finger inside of you, watching the way your cunt takes his fingers all greedily. You're the one who's supposed to be high, yet he feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy that he can barely comprehend it.

This is all real, you just begged him to finger you, and now you're mewling on his fingers, pussy throbbing as he stretches you out slowly.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, listening to the sweet sounds of your whimpers, "doin' so good f'me," his praises drive you even crazier, and loud moans escape from your parted lips the more his thumb circles around your clit.

"So greedy, hmm?" He coos condescendingly, relishing in the pretty faces you make, his ring finger joining inside of your soppy cunt easily, "E-Eddie," you mumble, lost in him, fully.

His fingers pump in and out of you at a rough pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge, he can feel your cunt squeezing his ringed fingers desperately.

"You close, angel?" He grunts, and a sheen of heat creeps its way across your chest and up your throat at how good he is, all you can do is nod pathetically, too dizzy and too lost in his fingers to even speak.

You take your plump bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stiffle your pathetic moans, but once he adds another finger, cold rings brushing against your clit, you can't help yourself.

"E-Eddie, fuck!" You moan, and he watches in awe, keeps his praises up, eager to see what you look like when you cum. He knows you'll be even prettier, screaming out his name, soaking his fingers in your pretty juices.

Your chest heaves with how much you're feeling him, stuffed full of his fingers, you can't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. Shit, maybe next time.

You pathetically rut your hips into his fingers, and he groans so filthily that your body feels frail, "That's it, baby," he praises. "Use me, honey, use my fingers to get yourself off."

Your face contorts with the sweetest pain and pleasure, his fingers plunged deep inside of you, padded thumb still continuing it's circles. Once his fingers curl inside of you, you know you’re a fucking goner.

Each of his movements, his touch, ignites a fire within you that is heightened by the weed, you are so desperate to cum that you don't even realize how pathetically you've been soaking his fingers, so wet and Eddie relishes in it.

"Oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You moan out once you feel that dizzying pleasure bubbling in your chest, he can feel your pussy flutter around his thick fingers, making his chest swell with pride. "Mhmm, just like that, darlin', cum on my fingers."

It's all the confirmation you need before you cry out his name again, back arching as pleasure explodes inside of your stomach, vision growing white and dizzy. Your fucked out face, pathetic moans, and your gaping mouth making Eddie's cock strain tighter and tighter, as if that’s even possible.

His fingers don't leave your soppy cunt until he makes sure you ride your orgasm out, relishing in the pretty expressions your face contorts to as you fall apart for him.

Bringing a stupid wide grin to his face that has you feeling giddier. The weight of what the two of you did doesn't dawn yet, you're too tired, too fucked out to care, and all Eddie can think about is going back to the trailer and rubbing one out while thinking about the pretty sounds you made, the pretty shapes your face took as you came on his fingers. His.

He'll think about how pretty your eyes look rolled all the way back inside of your head when he's slamming into you, cock stuffed inside of you, parted lips repeating his name like a fucking prayer. Your tight cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him dry.

With a groan, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking clean the remains of you, pathetically groaning at how sweet you taste. You watch him with lulled eyes, breath growing heavier, and if you weren’t about to pass out, you’d beg him for more, have his hard cock stuffed inside of you.

“Tastes so goddamn sweet,” he grunts, licking any taste of you left off his lips, your sweet juices engrained in his tastebuds.

You blink quickly to process all of it, mind numbed out. Fuck, he’s making this so goddamn hard for you.

“E—Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving as a shy smile appears on your lips, mind hazy as you try to form words. "T-that was amazing, shit."

"Yeah?" He beams, the praise is all he needs. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes glimmered at his words, air between the two of you was charged with a sweet tension. Breaths almost synchronized with the way both of your chests rose and fell on the rhythm of what just fucking happened. And all the feelings that led up to it.

You wanted to talk about it, take this further, maybe even continue back home.

But sleep began to settle inside of you, eyelids betrayed your pent-up feelings for him, already drooping in surrender.

And of course, Eddie knew by the sheepish smile you gave him, you were almost on the brink of sleep, and it was more important than his stupid feelings because the two of you had all the time in the world to talk about... whatever this was, tomorrow.

But if you lost your sleepy state, he knew you'd never get it back, “You sleepy yet?" He asked, thoughtful, caring gaze watching you intently, making you nod.

"Mhmm," you hummed, "But, Eddie..."

"Yeah?" He prompted, eager to soak up each and every one of your words.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing," you admitted, shyly, your heart leaping out of your chest in excitement.

"Thank fucking God." Slipped past his lips unintentionally, causing a hearty giggle to bubble up within you, easing away all of your worries.

Pools of warmth swam in his gaze, fully melting into you. "Me neither, sweetheart," he whispered, starting the car again, engine humming to life.

He met you with a saccharine smile. "But we have all the time to talk about that tomorrow, promise."

It hung in the air, the promise, almost like a warm hug engulfing you. All the confirmation you need.

"You just go to sleep, now, honey, I'll carry you inside," he urged, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead.

"T-thank you," you hummed, resting your head comfortably, deep slumber not taking long to find you while he watched intently, mind still running with thoughts of you.

Both of you had no clue what would happen with this; yet, you were now sure that this wouldn't remain as a one-time thing.

After all, you had a hard time sleeping almost every night, thankfully, you would now have Eddie to fix that.

[ash-says]

Survival 101 :

Buckle up your seatbelt darling because this is going to be triggering and one hell of a ride. Don't expect mushy from me. Might do it when tapped in my soft girl era but today I feel like a Villain.

1) Keep your mouth shut where you don't hold the power. No power no expressed opinions that can put you in trouble.

2) Learn manipulation and seduction skills. This will help you to detect when someone is trying to manipulate and seduce you. Saves a lot of drama and heartache.

3) Fight back strategically. We don't want to lose a job, a degree certificate, a bruise on your body,etc depending on your situation.

4) Facts over emotions. Always.

5) 90% of older men are creepy. Speaking from experience here. Play with them by ear. Get what you want by being polite and respectful but if they try to harass you or take advantage we turn Medusa on them or if you are not in a position to fight and walk out safe just play cutesy and shy and dumb. Ask him what he means and do not take a word said by him seriously. Dodge his advances like your life depends on it until you get an opening to run for the hills.

6) Snap out of delusions and pay attention to reality. People are not what you make them out to be they are what they show you. Stop making excuses for them.

7) Anxiety can be crippling. Panic attacks are the worst but no matter what happens try your level best to never show them publicly. Men are vultures and vulnerable women are easy prey for men.

8) That one friend who is all sweet to you and is your bff but anything positive happens in your life and suddenly starts becoming passive aggressive. Not your friend. Don't share any secrets. Best to be kept as an acquaintance.

9) Develop sarcasm and don't be afraid to put self entitled bitches and bastards in their place. Better being called a 'Mean Girl' over a 'Doormat'.

10) Bully back the bullies. It's 2024 sweetie we don't wait for an opportunity for revenge we fucking create it.

11) No matter how tough your life is going everyone shouldn't be getting a broadcast about it. At least not by your own mouth. Try to act as put together as you can.

12) Kindness is virtue but being apathetic saves you. Don't be the fool who bleeds through the stabs of the same knives again and again. "Because I can't see them in pain. I have a heart." Babygirl you have a life too. All that emotional stress is going to result in some serious problems in the upcoming years.

13) Learn when to quit. The most emotionally intelligent people I know are great quitters. They know when it's the end of an era.

14) Never disclose your family issues to outsiders. Until and unless a person has proved their loyalty to you year after year only those selected one or two people should know your domestic issues. Anyone else knowing it is like having a good gossip for tea time.

15) Lastly, there are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour.

[ellemj]

What Am I To You?

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.

Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.

         “Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.

You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.

“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.

“I thought we were just—”

“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.

Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.

As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.

“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.

“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.

“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.

He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.

“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.

“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy.  He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.

“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.

“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.

“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.

“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.

“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.

“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.

“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.

“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.

“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.

Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.

“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.

“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?

“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.

“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.

“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.

“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.

“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”

“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.

“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.

“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”

His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.

“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”

“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.

“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.

“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”

“Everything.”

Finally, you gave him the right answer.

[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

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine bucky being drunk

warning: kinda spicy at the end

"He's doing it again."

Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.

"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.

"He's so cute when he's drunk."

"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."

Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."

Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.

"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.

Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."

Steve groaned. "Come on, man."

You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."

"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."

"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.

"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."

Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.

"....so cute I could eat."

"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."

Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.

"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.

"I am but pure of heart, James."

Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.

"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.

Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

dirty, dirty girl / eddie munson

one shot

rated: m (18+, minors DNI)

cw (buckle up): smut w/ fluffy ending, cursing, daddy!kink, master!kink, petnames (kitten, babygirl, etc), lingerie, oral (m&f), face fucking, cum eating/cum play, orgasm denial, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickies, biting, little bit og blood, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, spit kink, breeding kink, slight bondage (belt as handcuffs), rough dom!eddie, sub!reader, fem!reader, praise, degradation, aftercare (i think that's it but i could be wrong)

this is over 8k words... enjoy you filthy people.

you were tired of your boyfriend only seeing you as cute and innocent. so for his birthday, you kicked things up a notch.

--

“robin, you’re sure?” you ask, nervously tapping your toe as you stand in the checkout line. robin rolls her eyes, shoving the lingerie into your grasp.

once she makes sure you’ve took hold she cross her arms. “as your only lesbian friend, i can assure you i’m sure you will look insanely hot in this. eddie is going to blow his load in his pants at the sight of you,” robin reassures with a smile. 

you sigh, nervously rubbing the thin lace between your fingers. “and the colors okay?” you ask insecurely.

robin nods, grabbing your shoulder. “black is sexy on everyone, y/n, plus the one we chose is particularly… out there? hot? so i don’t think color would matter anyway. but i mean, it is eddie, isn’t his favorite color black?” robin says.

“red, actually. but all their red options were too bright for what he likes,” you say and shrug. now you were next in line. robin gives you one last reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before you place the three piece set on the victoria’s secret counter. “you said we can get stockings at jcpenney, right?” you ask robin who nods. you pay for the pricey undergarments before you and robin head to get the rest of eddie’s birthday gifts.

a few days later and it’s eddie’s twenty-first birthday. luckily, he decided against getting super drunk that day and spent it with all of your guy’s combined friends. he knew he didn’t have to but he was more than excited for some good birthday sex and wanted to remember it all. 

the thing about you and eddie’s relationship was that even though you’d been together for about a year now, he still refused to get too rough with you during sex. he’d told you many times you were too innocent and he didn’t want to ruin that or go too far. but you knew he was holding back, and you were pretty damn tired of him treating you like a feather in the bedroom. he barely let you ride him it was that bad. 

he closed the door to your new apartment and immediately you were slammed against it as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss. you let it go for a minute before interrupting. “wait, i have a gift for you,” you say, stroking his cheek.

eddie gives you a goofy smile, his childish side showing through. “but, babygirl, you already gave me my presents,” he says in slight confusion. you shake your head no and give him a nervous smile.

“i have one more,” you mutter and grab his hand, leading him to your couch. “sit here and wait. i need a couple minutes,” you push him down on the couch. you smooth down his hair, admiring his excited smile and placing a kiss on his forehead. eddie waits pretty impatiently as it takes you a whole five minutes to get whatever it was that his gift was. he swears to god if it’s an animal after he’d told you no…

meanwhile you tried psyching yourself up as you slid your jeans back on over the lingerie. this was quite nerve wracking for you, but it was something you knew eddie was going to love. you pulled your shirt back on over your head and took a deep breath. you didn’t look any different except your socked feet were now engulfed by dark black thigh highs instead. you recalled robin’s words from this morning, telling you to just dance and feel yourself how you would if you were in your room alone. so, here goes nothing.

eddie whipped around at the sound of your bedroom door opening and furrowed his brows when he saw nothing in your hands. he watched you expectantly as you walked towards the record player. “baby, i’m confused,” he states, watching as you picked out the record he had recently been oodly obsessed with. 

you chew on your lip as you set it up. “you can’t make fun of me,” you mumble, turning up the volume so the track would play loudly. 

“i would never, but what is this-” he’s cut off by the opening words of pour some sugar on me by def leppard filling your guy’s home. he watches as you turn and nervously walk towards him as the instrumental begins. “babe?” he questions. you screw your eyes shut and shake your head. 

“shut up,” you mumble as you try to transport yourself back to your childhood bedroom, dancing around your room as if you could ever be as confident as the strippers in the movies. you pretend eddie isn’t even there and begin to let your hips move to the music, easing into it.

eddie watches you curiously, not understanding what was going on. he watches your hips carefully and then your hands as you begin sliding them up your body sensually. “oh my god,” eddie mumbles, eyes popping out of his head as he realizes what you’re doing. your hands grope at your own breasts as you try and move your hips more harshly to the beat and eddie feels his mouth fall open in shock. your hands travel down, sliding over your stomach and towards your core as eddie wishes your hands were his own. you don’t know how slow or fast you’re supposed to take this, but you know you're anxious to see eddie’s reaction to your lingerie. 

you let your hands drag your shirt up, revealing the black lace of the garter belt you’re wearing before letting it fall again. eddie gaps at you, and you finally find the courage to open your eyes and glance at him. he was sat with his knees apart, elbows resting on his thighs as his full attention was on every small movement of your body. you feel a burst of confidence as you pull your shirt all the way up to right under your breasts, shimmying your hips and dropping down a little bit. he sucks in a breath, embarrassed to be already getting hard. after teasing your shirt, you finally pull it off and throw it to the side. “holy fuck,” eddie grunts, you smirking at him as you start to run your hands over the exposed lace.

you start at the shoulders, running your fingers down the strap until it divides into two, showing the open expanse of the tops of your tits. you trail your fingers over the top of the lace cup that begins right above your nipples, letting them fall to circle your hardening nipples a few times. your soft touch traces the under wire, emphasizing your boobs even more to him before your fingers flutter over the frayed edges. you turn in a slow circle, using a swivel of your hips to stick your ass out towards him as your hands caress it. “god, y/n, you’re so fucking hot,” eddie comments, feeling like he could start drooling. you laugh at him, feeling fully relaxed and really confident in your body.

your fingertips ghost along the waistline of your jeans before dipping under. “you haven’t seen it all,” you say flirtatiously, popping the button of your jeans. eddie groans at the tone of your voice, feeling a rush of blood go to his dick. he didn’t know where this behavior was coming from, but he wasn’t complaining. he eyes the garter belt as you reveal more of it, slowly pushing down your jeans. a small expanse of your stomach is shown along with little silver rings holding together the pieces and then he sees the top of your underwear. he lets out a guttural groan at the fact he can see your freshly shaven pussy through the mesh and lace of the underwear. you smile mischievously at him as you slide them down further, showing to him where the garter belt connects to your black thigh high stockings. 

you kick the jeans to the side, running your fingers up and down your sides as you move your hips sensually. eddie’s bottom lip is stuck between his teeth as you begin to turn, a moan leaving his lips as he sees it's a thong you’re wearing. he’d never seen you wear one of those before. when you turn back to him he holds up his hand. “pause, i need a closer look,” he says, his eyes dark and full of desire. you stand patiently waiting for him as he stands and begins walking towards you.

you eye his bulge and feel a strike of pride run through you. “did i make you hard? daddy?” you ask innocently, causing eddie to stop in his tracks. his mouth goes dry and he blinks a couple times. 

“what did you just call me?” he asks, voice hoarse. 

you shrug, fighting back a big smile. “daddy? is that okay? or would you rather me call you master?” you ask and eddie’s eyes flutter shut. “oh, so master?” you tease.

he takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth before beginning to stalk towards you. “both do the job,” he mutters, beginning to circle you as if he was a lion and you were a poor, helpless gazel. he closely inspects every strap, design, and location of the lingerie as he gets to your back side. he squats down, grabbing your ass cheeks in his hands without warning. you smile, figuring he hasn’t yet realized one of the most important parts. you shuffle your feet farther apart and then bend down slowly. eddie gasps as his eyes come in contact with your bare cunt. your thong was crotchless. “fuck, kitten, are you trying to kill me?” he asks, massaging your ass in his big palms as he thinks about leaning forward and licking your awaiting pussy. 

you giggle innocently and stand back up. “it’s so you can fuck me in it,” you say as if it were the most normal thing in the world. eddie feels as though he could ascend straight to heaven right then and there. “go sit, i’m not done,” you say, turning to face him. he looks up at you for a moment before standing. he wanted to go full dom on you so bad, but he’d never done that before. he was afraid of corrupting you, or scaring you with how rough he wanted to be. but how you were acting right now made him think maybe you wanted it.

he goes back to his seat on the couch, trying to ignore the pain he was feeling as his cock strained against his pants. you dance around the living room a bit more before making your way over to him. you rest your hands on his shoulders, rolling your own as you press your breasts closer to his face. he sucks in a breath and then you’re turning, squatting down to rub your ass along his lap. you sway with the music still before pushing yourself forward, holding his knees for support as you dipped up and down, sticking your ass out to him and shaking it once in a while. eddie kept quiet, drinking you in as he thought. he’d never seen this side of you, he didn’t even know it existed. 

when you turned back to face him you poked his shoulder, causing him to place his hands behind him so you could crawl on his lap. “babygirl, do you know how sinful you look right now? fuck, you’re the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.” he tells you, one hand grabbing your hip and stroking his thumb over the exposed skin. he tried his best to ignore the fact that your bare pussy was hovering over him, but you made that impossible when you dropped to grind on him. you tangled your hands in his hair for support as you swivel your hips and grinded against his jean covered dick. 

“do you like your birthday present so far, eds?” you ask, pulling his hair to get him to look at your eyes for a moment and not your body. 

so many things came to his mind as he hissed in slight pain from his scalp. “so far?” he questioned, digging his thumb into the soft skin of your hip. you moaned, causing eddie to rub harsh circles.

“you gotta fuck me still,” you comment, one hand traveling to his chin to turn it to the side. eddie sat up a bit, bringing his other hand to rest on the back of your head as you began pressing kisses to and nipping at his throat. 

he closes his eyes, feeling hornier than a virgin watching porn for the first time. “you did all this for me? i didn’t even know you liked this type of stuff, kitten,” he observes, massaging your scalp slightly. 

you hummed against his throat, still sucking a love bite into it. “you never asked,” you mumbled into his skin before moving to the other side to start another hickey. eddie frowns slightly at that, and pulls you away from his neck.

“well, what do you like?” he asks.

you shake your head no and run your hands up and down his chest. “i don’t know for sure yet. but it’s your birthday, and i want to do what you like. i know you hold back all the time, but i want you to let go this time. go full out, please, i want it,” you say, staring in his eyes.

eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “babygirl, my full out may be too much for you,” he says, rubbing your back.

you shrug and lean back in to suck another bruise into his neck. “we don’t know until we try,” you say as the last beats of the song fade out behind you. 

“you’re sure?” eddie asks hesitantly.

you pull back to look into his eyes, hoping it motivates him enough. “yes, master. i’m sure i want you to fuck me and be rough and not hold back. i want it so bad,” you say and eddie lets out an involuntary groan.

he purses his lips and takes another breath. “you have no idea what you’re getting into, i could hurt you,” he says.

you shrug, grabbing a piece of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “maybe i want to get hurt,” you say and eddie looks at you sternly. “what if we have a safeword? you go all out, and if it gets too much for me i’ll say it so we can stop and figure out what went wrong. that make you feel better?” you question. eddie debates in his head for a moment and then nods. 

“apple, say apple if it gets to be too much,” he confirms and you nod. 

you lean down, eddie tipping his head back as you bite into his throat. he strokes your hair as you do so, thinking of all the things he could do to you. when you pulled away he looked at you with hunger in his eyes. “do you wanna do this out here… or should we go to our room?” you asked, hoping he would chose the bedroom. 

he pushed himself off the couch, causing you to squeal and cling to him as he carried you to your room. he threw you on the bed roughly causing you to gasp in surprise. “you want no filter right? anything i want?” he asks in an almost angry sounding voice. he pulls off his leather jacket, throwing it down before going for his shirt. you nod, moving your thighs together as you feel yourself becoming wet enough for it to leak to your inner thighs. he chuckles darkly as he undoes his belt and button, shaking his head and pushing his jeans off. as usual, he didn’t have any underwear on. 

he crawls on the bed and hovers over you. “guess it’s time we go over some rules, yeah?” he asks, pushing some hair behind your ear. he watches your wide eyes look at him expectantly. “oh god, you have no idea how long i’ve been thinking these out for you,” he huffs, in awe that this was actually happening. he leaned down, finally pressing his lips to yours once more. he holds himself up on his fists as your fingers find their way to his hair.

you moan into his mouth as he slides his tongue across your bottom lip, opening your mouth. your tongues fight around each other, small moans leaving each of you. eddie finally pulls away causing you to sigh. “rule one, only refer to me as master. or daddy, if you like that,” he says, kissing your forehead. “two, don’t cum until i say so,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek. “three, do as you’re told, always,” and he’s kissing your other cheek. “four, no complaining. because master is being so nice to pleasure you,” his voice now getting lower and he also lowers himself to kiss your jaw. “five, no touching yourself unless i tell you to. that’s what i’m here for,” he kisses just above your breasts. you let out a shaky moan as his fingers begin trailing along the side of your thigh. “six, always use your words and make noise. daddy wants to hear how good he makes you feel,” his lips kissing on your stomach. “and seven, know you’ll have to accept whatever punishment i give you if you disobey,” he finishes, kissing the top of your mound that was covered by mesh. “you understand?” he asks, leveling his face with your pussy and stroking your thigh comfortingly. 

you nod, taking a deep breath. eddie raises his brows, no way you’d forgotten already. he digs his nails into your thigh, pinching it hard enough to make you yelp in pain. “y-yes, master,” you say shakily, spreading your legs for him as you realize you enjoyed the pain. 

eddie gives you an evil smirk before responding with, “there you go, kitten.” then, he’s diving down and going straight for your clit, not easing you into it at all. you gasp, head falling back as his lips wrap around your clit and suck it into his mouth. eddie had eaten you out a multitude of times, but he was always so slow and gentle. this new way had you melting though, you were going to get addicted. 

he loves how you’re reacting, basically making out with your soaked clit. “so wet for me,” he mumbles before diving back in and flicking his tongue through your folds. you hum, muscles clenching at how good he was making you feel. “you taste like heaven,” he says, pulling back to blow on your clit and watch you twitch. he chuckles, licking a strip over your clit and blowing on it again, causing you to spasm. “ironic, for such a dirty, dirty girl to taste so heavenly,” he smirks, watching you whine.

“master, please,” you huff, reaching for him.

“ah-ah, kitten, hands down. now, what are you pathetically begging for?” he asks, licking your clit quickly. 

you squirm at his short, spaced out licks as he waits for you to talk. “please don’t make me say it,” you whine, embarrassment flooding your features.

eddie hums in disapproval, pulling back slightly. “isn’t using your words a rule, babygirl?” he taunts. 

you huff, gathering your bearings before looking up to make eye contact with him. “make me cum… on your tongue, master, please,” you whine, your face heating up in embarrassment.

eddie’s eyes sparkle at you using such a vulgar phrase. “awe, babygirl wants me to eat her pussy until she cums, huh?” he teases, resituating himself.

you nod desperately, gripping the sheets in your fists. “yes, daddy, please,” you gasp as eddie latches on to your pussy once again. he scoots down, grabbing your legs and hooking them over his shoulders to get a better angle. he begins teasing your entrance with his tongue, loving the way your squirm underneath him. your hips buck towards him, a whimper leaving your lips. 

eddie gives in, beginning to fuck you with his tongue as your clit is nestled against his nose. his eyes travel up to watch you, his eyes practically forming hearts as he watches your lingerie clad breasts heave with each breath. he loves the way you taste, so sweet and musky. he’d bathe in your slick all day if he could. he let out a groan into your pussy, rutting his cock against the mattress as your moans begin increasing. he’s fucked you enough times to know when you’re about to cum. but, this time wasn’t exactly going to be the same. he removes his tongue from your hole, moving to focus completely on your clit again, knowing that’s what finishes you off. 

“i’m gonna cum, master, fuck,” you whine as he laps at the left side of your clit since it was more sensitive. eddie picks up his pace, smirk on his face due to his plans. he sucks, and your legs begin to shake. as he hears the telltale breathy moans, he pulls away, right before you fall off the edge. you let out a cry, trying to pull your legs up to get more friction but eddie holds them tightly in place. “master, no, please,” you cry, feeling your clit throb at the sudden loss of stimulation. 

eddie laughs as you squirm, holding you in a vice grip until you stop moving. “see what happens to bad girls who don’t follow rules?” eddie asks when you flop on the bed in defeat. you whimper, grasping the sheets in discomfort. “awe, pretty girl. look at you,” eddie coos, letting up on your legs. 

you look at him with a pouted lip. “m’sorry master,” you mumble and eddie grunts, his hips involuntarily rutting against the mattress again. 

“mhm, i’m sure you are,” he tutted, digging his nails into your thighs. “you learn your lesson, kitten?” he asks, snaking a hand around to stroke your clit gently. 

your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. “yes, master, mm, learned my lesson,” you mumble, hips rolling against his fingers. he removes his hand, using it to deliver a slap to your clit instead. you yelp, causing eddie to smirk.

“don’t be greedy. i’ll let you cum when i want to,” he lectures and you let out a noise of discontent. eddie smiles, ready to edge you once more. he sinks two fingers into you without warning, his cold rings a sharp contrast to your burning skin. he begins pumping them in and out of your inviting walls, watching you squirm. he watched closely as some of your arousal leaked out of you and dripped slowly down the swell of your ass and onto your shared bed. he moved up your body, kissing along as much exposed skin as he could, fingers from his other hand snapping straps and dipping under them. “you look so pretty in this. can’t believe my sweet, innocent baby got all dolled up to look like a whore for me,” he cooed mockingly causing you to whimper. “you have no idea how many times i’ve thought about doing this to you. tying you up, torturing you a little bit, seeing just how much you’ll let me do to your pretty little cunt before you start to cry,” eddie says, stroking your cheek bone as his fingers curl inside of you. 

“daddy,” you whisper desperately.

eddie hums, “yes, kitten?” you close your eyes as eddie’s fingers hit that special spot inside of you. 

eddie knows what he’s doing, and fuck is he loving it. “can i cum this time?” you ask in a shaky voice, eyes meeting his.

the smirk that covers his face is a cruel one, and it makes your body shudder with arousal. “i haven’t decided yet,” he comments casually, before leaning down to nuzzle his face his your neck. 

he starts with slow, sweet kisses to your neck that match the agonizing pace of his fingers, drawing moans from you as your high builds again. then out of nowhere, he bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, hard. your hand flies up to the back of his head as you let out a small scream of pain and tears prickle your eyes. you hated to admit that it only made the knot in your pussy tighter. eddie ran his tongue over the bite mark, soothing it. your hand was wrapped in his hair as he kissed it better. but, he wasn’t so sweet. he moved to the other side of your neck, kissing and sucking before sinking his teeth into the middle of your shoulder. 

you let out pained gasp, fist pulling eddie’s hair until he releases his teeth. he pulls back slightly to admire the small red droplets forming in the place of his teeth. he picks up the pace of his fingers before licking the crimson blood, moaning as the metallic taste flooded his mouth. you moaned in pleasure, your walls clamping around him as your orgasm built sweetly. eddie twisted his hand so his thumb could apply pressure to your clit. “master,” you gasp as eddie continues kissing your neck, your eyes screwing shut. you clenched around him, thighs beginning to tremble. you really thought he was gonna let you cum that time, really you did.

but he pulled his mouth and fingers away from you, sitting back to watch you squirm. “no,” you cried, a couple tears falling from your eyes. eddie smiles, leaning forward slightly to watch your tear filled eyes. 

“kitten, you cried faster than i thought,” he observed, using his thumb to swipe the salty drop away. you whimpered, trying to clamp your legs together but you couldn’t. “mm, poor thing. i promise you can cum next time,” he coos, wiping stray hairs from your face. too bad you still didn’t know what he had in store for you. he gets off the bed and starts looking around on the floor.

“wh-what are you doing, master?” you ask, pushing yourself up on shaky arms. eddie hums in delight at your words and how adorable you looked as your body still trembled. 

eddie picks up his jeans, beginning to pull the belt from the loops. he gives you an evil smile. “well, i did say i was gonna tie you up, didn’t i?” he raises his brows. you gulp, looking from him to his belt as he comes to the side of the bed. “get up on your knees and give me your wrists, babygirl,” he says. you comply quickly, scrambling onto your knees, wincing as you feel the wetness from your pussy dripping out of you. “such a good girl,” he coos, stroking your face and placing a kiss on your forehead. 

he begins weaving his belt through itself before sliding it onto your wrists and pulling it tight. the leather bites into your skin as he makes sure it’s as tight as it can be. he guides you to maneuver to the headboard. you’re sat against it, looking at him with big eyes as he straddles you. “pretty girl, let me fuck that tight mouth of yours,” he says, causing you to bite your lip. he guides you to scoot down a bit, your back in a horribly uncomfortable position as he lines his cock up with you mouth. “if it gets too much, hit me in the thigh a couple times and i’ll stop, okay?” he explains with serious eyes. you nod, only for him to give you a stern look. 

“yes, master,” you say, earning a nod of approval and then the head of his cock is pushing open your lips. he slowly sinks into your warm mouth, head falling back as he does. he goes until his hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag. he pulls back a little, only to start slow thrusts into you mouth. 

he grabs your head with his hands, using the leverage to push his cock deeper into your throat. he feels your throat flutter around him and he looks down. he wants to bust at the sight of you, watering eyes and mouth full of cock. “take it, kitten,” he groans, drawing back his hips just to slam himself back into you. you whine around his cock, a tear falling from your right eye. eddie smiles at you, sinking you down slowly until your eyes widen in panic and you begin to choke. he pulls out immediately and strokes your chin. “you gotta relax, relax and just take it for me. you wanna make daddy feel good, right? that’s why you got dressed up like a whore, right? was for master to treat you like one for his birthday?” he questioned, but you could see in his eyes this was also him waiting for you to use your safeword. you took a deep breath and nodded, opening your mouth again for him. “good girl, kitten. my good little slut,” he says proudly, using his hand to guide himself into your mouth again. 

he lets you adjust once more, but then he’s fucking into your mouth as if he doesn’t care you’re a person and not just a hole. he bites so hard on his bottom lip he’s drawing blood as he watches your face. spit was beginning to dribble down your chin and tears were continuously falling from your eyes as you deepthroated him, gaging every other thrust. he pulled you roughly down on him, chasing his release. “fuck, getting so close,” he grunted, your eyes trained on the drop of blood falling from his lip. “gonna cum in your mouth, yeah kitten, be good and swallow your master’s cum,” he says between heavy breaths. you moan around him and then his hips are faltering. 

eddie’s head falls back as he cums, thick ropes shooting in your mouth and down your throat. he leaves his cock in your mouth until he comes down. “let daddy see his cum,” he says as he slides his dick from your mouth. you open your mouth, showing him how much cum sat on your tongue. he grunts dropping down to connect his mouth to yours. you both moan at the mixed tastes of cum and blood filling your mouth. the salty and metallic taste causing your brain to short circuit. you knew you were so turned on that a wet patch had formed on your duvet, and you wanted so badly to have a release. “swallow,” eddie commands once he pulls back and you do as told. eddie takes a moment to collect himself and then he’s hauling you up and flipping you over.

you let out a noise of surprise as your face comes in contact with your blankets and eddie grabs you hips. “get your ass up, babygirl, yep, on your knees, good girl,” he says, dragging out the last two words. “daddy needs a minute to just look at you like this,” he hums, grabbing your ass and massaging it harshly. you whimper, your head turned to the side. he drags his hands up your back, slipping under the lingerie and feathering his touch over the lacy material. he even moves down to your thighs that are covered in stockings and rubs them. he admires your frame, wishing he knew where the camera was so he could take a picture. next time. 

his hand travels back to your ass, rubbing it before his hand pulls away just to come striking back down. you let out a moan at the pain, eddie watching in awe as arousal drips from your heat. “you dirty slut,” he comments, spanking you again. you stick your ass out to him, wanting more contact. your hands grabbed fistfulls of the blankets under you as you tried to control yourself. eddie played with you a bit more before sinking his fingers back into your awaiting cunt. he groans at the squelching noise as you suck his fingers in you. “this time, you can cum,” he says, placing a kiss on your reddened ass cheek and beginning to pump his fingers into you. 

a loud moan leaves your lips as he uses his other hand to rub your clit. he doesn’t ease into it, just hammers into you until you’re quite literally mewling in pleasure. “master,” you whimper and his fingers curl right against the spot you needed him most. “fuck, wanna cum, getting close,” you say, rocking back onto his fingers. “cum, kitten, cum for me,” he says, curling his fingers where he knows you need as his fingers continue abusing your clit. your walls flutter around him digits and you let out a moan. you feel the tower inside of you building and you’re almost to the top. “come on, pretty, master wants to watch you cum,” he says with gritted teeth and then the tower falls.

“fuck,” you yell, burying your face in your mattress as your thighs shake, knowing they would definitely allow you to collapse if eddie wasn’t holding you up. a small gush of slick pools from your pussy, coating eddie’s hand and dripping onto the bed. eddie finger fucks you through your high, but when you start to whine from overstimualtion he doesn’t stop. “daddy, t’hurts,” you mumble into the blankets.

eddie, however, doesn’t give a fuck what you say. “what’s that rule? you can only cum when i say so? well, i’m telling you now you’re cumming again,” he says harshly, causing you to whimper. he builds you up to your next high so fast and your whole body begins to tremble. “fucking whore, already gonna cum again? well, fuck, babygirl, cum for me, daddy needs to see how good he makes you feel,” he teases, holding his fingers against that special spot and moving them side to side ever so slightly, his movements on your clit never faltering. 

you’re screaming a mantra of daddy and master and eddie hasn’t even fucked you yet. he smiles as your body tenses, that expression changing to shock when you begin squirting all over his fingers. he takes his fingers from your pussy, continuing to rub your clit as he tries to catch some of your squirt in his mouth. your whole body falls limp as more drips from your pussy, a wet spot now decorating your duvet. 

  eddie strokes your clit as you come down from your high, and when you whimper he pulls away. you lay there, ass in the air as you feel numbness spread through your body. eddie pulls you up carefully, plastering your body to his. “what a good girl,” he coos, rubbing his hand soothingly over your stomach while pressing soft kisses to your neck. you slump against his chest, eyes closed as you try to catch your breath. “you did so good, kitten. so good for daddy. did you feel that last orgasm? you squirted, mhm, master got you all worked up, you squirted and made a big mess. so proud of you, kitten, did so so good for me,” eddie mutters praise in your ear, kissing your ear lobe and throat between sentences. 

  “m-master,” you say weakly, trying to force your eyes open.

  eddie admires you, leaving one arm around your waist to hold you up and the other comes to stroke your jaw. “yes, baby?” he hums.

  you finally get your eyes open and make eye contact with eddie. you take a deep breath, clenching your fists to try and regain some lucid thoughts. “you-you didn’t f-fuck me,” you stutter. eddie’s eyes darken as he grips you tighter.

  “was gonna be nice and give you a nice break. but, now i think i’ll take you right now. that okay, kitten? gonna let your master abuse that pretty little hole of yours?” he teases darkly, his cock hardening once again.

  your lip quivers, knowing this very well could send you overboard. but, the way your pussy clenched at the thought of being fucked told you all you needed to know about your limits. “anything you want, master,” you say, looking back at him. eddie grunts, placing his lips on yours in a heated, desperate kiss. you struggle to keep up, feeling like your body was jelly. 

  eddie disconnects his lips from yours and pushes you back down. you let out a weak yelp as his hand presses your back down hard. it kind of hurt, but then your mind was being clouded with the fact that his cock was slipping into your soaked entrance. the both of you let out moans as eddie sinks into you. “babygirl, you can hear me, yes?” eddie asks as he bottoms out.

  “yes, master,” you mumble, voice half muffled by the covers.

  eddie soothingly rubs his hands up and down your back as he bites his lip. he knew once he started fucking you he wouldn’t be able to stop. “this is gonna be really rough for you, okay? once i start, i don’t think i’m gonna stop until i cum. i don’t want to push you too much, so if you don’t think you can handle it, tell me now. there are many other ways i can cum without possibly hurting you,” he warns. you think it over for a minute before making a decision.

  “fuck me,” you grumble, using the last bits of your strength to move your hips forward and then slam back onto him.

  eddie feels something snap inside of him and then he’s slamming into you as if he’s gone feral. “good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls. literally, growls. and then slaps your ass harshly making you spasm. he presses your back down with one hand, the other holding your hip so he can slam into you at a brutal pace. “dirty fucking whore, look at you. my innocent baby is just like some goddamn street whore. fuck, had you all wrong, kitten. didn’t know you’d be so dirty. mmm, fuck, should’ve roughed you up months ago,” he continues grunting as he plows into you from behind. 

  tears are freely falling from your eyes as it hurts so good. your mouth is also open, drool creating a small wet patch on the blanket. your whole body feels on fire as one by one your coherent thoughts fade away. he was fucking you stupid, and you loved every moment of it. eddie was lost in the feeling of you, mesmerized by the way your velvet walls sucked his cock back in time after time. out of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been this good.

  he only came back to reality when you started whimpering and your walls fluttered around him. “gonna cum again, slut? yeah, go ahead, cum for your master,” he grunts and spanks you again. you tense and then your squirting again, all over his dick as your body shakes. eddie moans at the sensation. he pulls out, picking you up and forcefully flipping you over. drool was covering your face, your eyes were slightly rolled back and tears were pouring from them as broken moans and cries left your mouth.

  eddie re-entered you, grabbing your still bound hands and putting them above your head. “keep them there,” he grumbles and you nod dumbly. eddie doesn’t correct you that time, instead focused on chasing his own high. “open that mouth,” he demands and you do lazily. he spits into your mouth, moaning as you swallow it without being asked. he could feel his release building, the feeling only heightening as he saw how fucked-out you looked. “look at me,” he moans. you use the very little strength you have to make eye contact with him.

  he grabs your legs, pushing them up to hook them over his shoulders. “gonna cum inside you, fucking slut,” he grunts, hammering into you at a whole new angle. your high builds up again, a sweet mix of pain and pleasure as a sob rocks through your body. eddie feels his high coming, keeping his eyes on you. “cum, one last time. now, kitten,” he growls darkly. his thrusts cause your whole body to tremor. your eyes roll back in your head and a screaming sob leaves your lips as the most intense orgasm rips through you.

  you squirt harder than you did the first two times, your velvet walls locking eddie inside you. he thrusts into you messily, cumming deep inside your pussy as you go limp. your head's pounding, and your whole body is flooded with an uncomfortable, fiery mix of pleasure and intense pain. you loved it, but you were barely present. eddie finally stilled, dropping your legs and nearly collapses on top of you. as he tries catching his breath, his cock still buried to the hilt inside you, keeping his cum in you, sobs rack your body. 

  eddie’s mind is so clouded with pleasure that it takes him a minute to come to. the sobs leaving your lips were nearly heart wrenching, tears covering your face as you tried to gasp for air. you were in so much pain, but you fucking loved it. eddie took a few more deep breaths, his brain clearing up.

  then his mind registered your sobbing and he was immediately pushing himself up to look at you. his heart dropped at the sight of your face, your body still jerking uncontrollably and he couldn’t tell if it was from overstimulation or your sobs. he pulled out of you and cupped your face. “oh, no. no, no, no, baby, are you okay?” he asks in panic, trying to get your eyes to focus on him. you let out a sob as your eyes meet his. “fuck, i’m so sorry, babygirl. please take a deep breath,” he says frantically.

  you lower your arms, hiccuping as you try to breathe. “o-off,” you sob, holding your hands towards his face. eddie feels guilt over take him as he quickly removes his belt from your wrists, not being able to really tell how raw they were before you were flinging your arms around him and pulling him close.

  he practically fell against you as you held onto his back like your life depended on it, crying and hiccupping into his neck. “shh, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t meant to push you so far. why didn’t you say something?” he asks, wrapping an arm under your frame as he tried to hold you to him. 

  you shake your head no, he had the wrong idea. “n-no. stop,” you cry, pulling back just enough to look at him. his eyes were prickled with tears as you put your hand to his face. “don’t be so-sorry. m’not hurt. i-i loved it,” you hiccup and eddie shakes his own head.

  “baby, you’re crying,” he says, not wanting you to lie to make him feel better.

  you stroke his cheek and take a couple deep breaths. “yeah, b-but, it was so good. never had- fuck, never had better sex. i want it to be like that all the time,” you say seriously, blurry eyes looking from one of his to the other. 

  “you promise? baby, that was really rough i should’ve known better,” eddie says, searching your face for the truth.

  “i loved it,” you confirm. eddie takes a moment before nodding and pulling you back closely to him. eddie slowly pulls away from you causing you to whimper.

  eddie gives you a soft smile, still weary, and kisses your forehead. “you wanna take a bath, or you wanna go right to bed?” he asks, stroking your hair.

  “can we take a bath together?” you asks and eddie nods. he slowly unclips your stockings from the belt and pulls them off, the panties following. he lifts your back up as little as possibly, carefully unhooking and unzipping the belt and your bra. he admires your body as he carefully peels the expensive fabric from your skin. 

  he puts all the clothes in the hamper before picking you up from the bed. “you did so good, babygirl,” he coos as he walks you to the bathroom. you hum, leaning your head into his chest. he sets you gently on the closed toilet seat and turns on the warm water. you watch carefully as he throws in bath salts and bubble bath, stuff he would never use for himself. “lavender good?” he asks softly, holding the bubble bath up to you. you nod lazily, watching him pour a generous amount in and mixing it to create bubbles. “i'm gonna go grab us some water,” he tells you as the bath continues filling.

  when he comes back with the ice water, the bath tub is full and ready. after turning off the faucet he places a cup in your hand, helping you to take a sip as you were still slightly shaky. once you’ve got some water in you, he picks you up again, carefully placing you in the big, claw-foot tub and helping you sit down. he climbs in behind you, pulling you until your back is laid against his chest. the bubbles almost consume you, stopping just below your shoulders. “this is nice,” you hum, looking up at your boyfriend.

  eddie gives you a sweet smile, leaning down and placing a kiss to your lips. his arms wrap around your middle and yours fall on top of his as you bask in the presence of each other. “y/n?” he asks quietly. you hum in response, fiddling with his fingers. “do you want to get married?” he murmurs.

  you let out a weak snort before giggling. “birthday gift that good?” you ask playfully, looking back at him. he was staring at you with a smile, admiring you but you could tell he was also serious. 

  “more than that good,” eddie says, watching you study him. “but i’m serious. i know we love each other and i really don’t ever see myself with anyone else. if it’s not you, it’s no one,” eddie explains.

  you lean back and give him a kiss. “i would love to marry you,” you say as you pull away. goofy smiles are spread across both your faces as you help scrub each other’s bodies and wash your hair.

  when the water drains and you and eddie are both drying yourself off you really think about what you just agreed to. but who else would you want to marry besides this man? eddie picks you up without warning causing you to squeal and hold onto him. “i can walk now, babe,” you laugh.

  eddie just presses a bunch of kisses to your face as you giggle. “i know, but i like it better this way,” he says before setting you on the edge of the bed. he grabs a pair of shorts for himself, slipping them on as you stretched your arms up. 

  he walked over to you with a clean pair of panties in his hand and one of his shirts on his shoulder. he crouched down, holding your underwear out for you to step into. “up,” he says, making you roll your eyes.

  “eddie, i can put on my own clothes,” you say but stand anyway.

  eddie pouts and looks up at you. “just let me take care of you,” he says as you step into them. he slides them up your legs, making sure they’re in place before putting his hands on your hips and standing. he places a soft kiss on your lips, and then he’s getting his black sabbath t-shirt ready to slip over your head. “if you wanna do something,” eddie begins with a roll of his eyes as he tugs the shirt down the rest of the way. “do you wanna grab those other sheets from the laundry room?” he asks.

  you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek to go do just that as he begins stripping the bed. you laugh, remaking the bed and your cheeks flushing at the mess you had made. once it’s ready, eddie has the lights off and is pulling you towards him as he peppers kisses all along your face. 

  “happy birthday,” you whisper, feeling tiredness begin taking over you.

  eddie pulls back, tucking some hair back and admiring you for a moment. “thank you, baby. i loved my birthday. i love you,” he says, knowing those words don’t do justice for how much he cares for you.

  “i love you, too,” you mumble before pressing yourself into his chest. your hand rests near his heart, your head on the other side, one leg thrown across his thighs as your eyes flutter shut. eddie wraps both arms around you, holding you securely to him and placing one more kiss to your head before the both of you fall into a very deep, well needed sleep.

--

based on prompts from @mila-solos @kittenxo-xo @asscheek-valley

[luveline]

May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹

Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing. 

She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner. 

“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?” 

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.” 

“Eighteen days is not three weeks.” 

“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.” 

“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?” 

“No, just soap.” 

“Well, that’s not much better.” 

Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop. 

“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon. 

“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork. 

“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.” 

“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.” 

He’s unintimidated. “Ah.” 

“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.” 

Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke. 

She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways. 

“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?” 

Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast. 

“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks. 

“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.” 

“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern. 

“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder. 

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks. 

God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room. 

“He likes that one,” Spencer says. 

“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.” 

“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.” 

“Is that why?” Spencer asks. 

“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”

“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.

“Scoundrel,” you agree. 

“How’s your head now?” 

“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink. 

He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath. 

Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny just casually mentioning things that correspond with Bruce, like the time he stole an experimental power suit and shot a god corresponding with Bruce shooting Darkseid or the Infi-map being like the time Bruce was lost in the time stream, and the bats wondering how this kid can remain a civilian

Danny tried his best to not blink too quickly, as it may cause the stranger to shoot him. He honestly has no idea how he ended up here, but somehow, he was taken hostage alongside a bus full of people on his way to buy some chips.

He got tired of Alfred's instance to ban all junk food from the manor and had snuck out while the Wyanes had been busy going over plans for some big showdown with a guy named Scarecrow.

Danny doesn't know who that is and doesn't care to find out. The less he knows, the less likely he will have to deal with rouge. He's on vacation, dang it.

Or he was until the bus was taken over by a group of men wearing gas masks. They forced their way onto the bus when they stopped for some passengers, forcing the driver at gunpoint to drive them off course, and now they were heading to a wear house. People were crying, but Danny felt like screaming.

He just wanted spicy chips, and- maybe if he had the time- he would swing by the old junkyard to find a steering wheel for his ship! Fenton luck strikes again, it seemed.

"I wouldn't be so smug, Kane," One of the people in a gas mask shouts at him. He blinks up at the woman pointing her gun at his head but scoffs at her stance. His mother would throw a fit if Danny or Jazz ever placed their feet so off balance like that while wielding a weapon. "Once Dr.Crane is done with you-"

"I'm sorry did you just threaten me with myself?" Danny cuts her off. She pauses seemingly thrown before she sputters.

"No- not Kane, Crane."

He blinks at her. "You just said the same thing"

"C-R-A-N-E." She spells in a huff.

"Ohhhhh. Sorry, the mask makes it hard to understand you. Okay, so where were you? Dr. Crane is going to do what with me-?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat, and waving his hand at her.

There is a moment of silence before she hits him across the face with her gun. "Don't you mock me!"

"Ow." He deadpans, rubbing at his cheek, and wonders if it was supposed to hurt. His healing had vanished the pain before her gun left his skin. "I thought we were having a conversation, but forgive me, I had no idea you had an inferiority complex and assumed everyone was mocking you. Let me guess, no one has ever told you they are proud of you, and now you are defensive of every action you take because-"

"Shut up!" His voice wobbles and Danny knows he hit the nail on the head.

"Does it keep you up at night? Does it freak you out that everyone can see your issues on your face as bright as day? I bet it does it. Bet it causes you to cry like a sad little confused kid who still can't figure out how to ask for help." He doesn't mock. He states it as fact because that is what it was. Fact. She does break down about it; he can tell by her reaction, and his tone makes it all the harder to swallow.

"I'll kill you!"

"Do it." He smiles. "Saves me from your boss. But will that keep you safe? Let's find out! How long will it be before he breaks you down? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes? And he will break you; you know he will. He's already halfway there."

"I-" She stumbles away from him. He doesn't have to see her face to know it's gone pale. Ha.

One of her crew hits her shoulder, having heard him speaking while the rest of the bus stares. "Stop letting him into your head!"

"Oh, what's your name?" Danny asks, blinking his large blue eyes at the man, watching his body language for clues. His eyes zero in on three belts and how they all match up at the buckle despite the fact that they are stacked on top of each other. Didn't Jazz once say that a belt with that much control hinted about attention to detail?

Hmm.

"Is the plan falling apart- can you not control it? The way life just moves on without you and that freaks you out doesn't it. The lake of control?" He asks, and the man jerks back. Bingo.

"Holy shit," A teenager whispers in the back horrified. "It's Dr. Crane jr."

"No, that's the Rabid Dog," Another answer. "Heard he made three elites cry after talking to him for more than ten minutes."

Danny is about to open his mouth when suddenly Robin crashes through the front window. Rude. There is glass everywhere now.

Hours later, Alfred franticly checks him over for injuries while the rest are freaking out. Apparently, they had feared to find Danny screaming from terrible visions but instead found him mentally breaking the hired goons with Jazz's training. "It's not like they did anything. I had a harder time stealing a super suit than those fruitloops-"

"You stole a what?" Tim cuts him off, eyes narrowed. Danny shrugs.

"I mean, haven't we all stolen a super suit?"

"Literally, no one here has done that," Steph tells him, and Danny tilts his head.

"You guys must have had boring childhoods. Surely you at least tried to organize your school into a battle-ready militia? No one can finish school without doing that at least once."

Dick raises a hand. "Brucie, how common is this in your world? Because that's alarming."

"All the kids at my school do that. My graduating class has done it three different times back in freshmen year." He shrugs. Cass makes a strange noise in the back of her throat.

"Not a lie. Brucie is strange," She tells the group, and everyone stares in bewilderment at the boy sitting on the medical table, even Bruce.

Danny smiles at them sweetly like he would at Vlad when the fruitloop is over, and he gets his parents to throw him out sooner than he wants to leave. It curves with just the right amount of innocence and mischievous nature that no one can tell if it's a positive or deadly expression.

"You are from a war-torn world?" Damian inquires, fingers under his chin with a frown. "How are you so carefree?"

"Oh no, we haven't had a war in about- eh fifty years? Give or take." He answers and once again Cass confirms the truth of his words.

This does nothing to settle their nerves.

"Every day I learn more about teenage Bruce, and every day I am more unsettled," Jason announces, and the rest of the Bats nod. Danny's smile turns broader and softer. It makes him more attractive but unsettling in a way.

Alfred sighs with a fond smile. "Oh, the memories. Master Bruce used to smile at his dates in the same way. I can picture him taking that sweet girl to the movies as if though it was yesterday."

"Bruce, how in the world did you get people to date you? That's creepy as hell. " Dick accuses the man who only shrugs.

"Oliver once told me it was part of the thrill. The idea that I could kill them."

"Why!?"

"I wish I knew chum."

Danny slips the control into his sleeve- he will rip it apart later for the Bluetooth piece. He will wait till the Waynes are too busy with Bruce's old stories about his first few dates to take apart the fear gas bomb he took from the woman earlier today. Could he use it as a fuel?

He'll have to do some tests.

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

【Synopsis】 : You suggest something new, and the boys love the idea.

『Word count』 : 2.1k 

Paring: Steve x Bucky x Reader [Poly Au] 

[Warnings] : Making out. Hickeys. Big dick energy. Light-hearted sex. Poly relationship. Swearing. Pet names. Praise from Bucky. Steve is a moaning mess. Multiple orgasms. Protected anal sex. Unprotected sex (Steve didn't wrap it).

Masterlist | Navigation

"Please, please. Please." You sounded like a broken record. One that had been broken by none other than the infamous lone wolf Bucky and his best friend, Steve. You were the good girl around the compoud. You weren't the best agent by all means, but you weren't an unskilled either. You had friends in and out of the heroing and crime fighting. You try to live a normal life.... well, that was until Bucky, the deep-voiced man that recently joined the Avengers, started to take interest in you.

Everyone wanted him and his best friends. They were the walking sex on legs. But none of them were interested in relationships or flings or even hookups. Especially with the women and some men shield agnets that only started working for the avengers because they wanted to get closer to them. People would lie, saying they'd been with them, but in truth, Bucky and Steve were untouchable, and that made them even more desirable. Heck, Bucky didn't even like human interaction with anyone other than their friend group. But yet when Bucky saw you, he knew he wanted you. And so did Steve.

It became a game of cat and mouse. But in this case, it was two very, very large cats cornering one scared little mouse. You wanted it, though. As much as you fought it at first. You wanted the pleasure you knew they would provide. But part of you wanted to keep your dignity, not wanted to be plastered as a whore in the compound. But Bucky and Steve reassured you that no one would come to know your dirty secret. And yet, no one would even believe it anyway if it were to get out.

So here you stand, with two large bodies holding you close in between them. Steve's fingers were paced fast as you high came, ripping closer and closer. Bucky's tongue lapped the bright purple marks on your soft skin, the ones he created so he could show others you were taken without anyone knowing who exactly gave them to you. They were both possessive over you. Learning more and more things about you and your body every time they had you in these situations.

"Steve , I.." You gripped his biceps, nails digging into his flesh as you could feel your orgasm approaching. Steve just chuckled, going faster while Bucky snaked his hand from behind you to place a finger on your clit, circling it quickly in time with Steve's thrusts.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." you swore, knees buckling, you fall into Bucky's arms, making him keep you up while they continue. Your orgasm comes quickly, Steve letting out a chuckle at his work. You were so fucked out already and they hadn't even started yet. Bucky swopped you up, laying you on his bed while Steve takes this time to undress, finally making you not the only one naked in the room. Bucky kisses your forehead whispering how good you were, making your heart jump at his words.

“Bucky.” You shakily place a hand on his cheek, bringing him close so you could kiss him on the lips passionately. Buck’s hands snaked down your body, gripping your breast, giving them a squeeze. You moan into his mouth, making him smile. The noises you made were always music to his ears.

“So Me or Buckaroo first, baby? Since we chose last time.” Steve rubbed your ankles as he stood by the end of the bed. You sat up, looking at your lover. A hard gulp ran down your throat as you tried to prepare yourself to answer him. You recently found you wanted to try a new thing but became unsure how to ask. No better time than the present, right?

“I…I want both of you..” You glance over to Bucky, “At the same time.” Steve and Bucky could feel their dicks twitch at the idea. don’t get them wrong, they both fantasised about taking you at the same time but they didn’t want to scare you away with the act. But hearing the thought roll off your tongue, god it made them go feral. Bucky jumped up, ripping his shirt off while he jogged over to his dresser.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Steve shouted with a huge smile like a teenager. You tilted your head in confusion as you watched Bucky strip down while he held his fist out.

“Deal.” Bucky smirks, throwing the lube on the bed next to you before also placing his fist out. They swung, Steve getting scissors, and Bucky getting rock.

“Fuck!” Steve swears with a whimpering tone. Bucky laughs smugly, walking over to you with pride. He lets his hand out for you to take, so he can pull you up off the bed so you could stand on your wobbly legs. Did they really just play rock, paper, scissors for who fucks you in which hol-

“Oh god….” Your cheeks run a blush in a similar shade to the evening sky. Bucky twirls you, so you face Steve, and he could stand behind you. He kisses your neck from behind, rubbing your ass slightly before letting his hand land a smack on your soft skin.

“Next time, Stevie. But right now, this ass is mine.” Bucky chuckles to himself.

He lathers himself up with lube and then coats his fingers again. With one finger, he begins prodding at your ass before slipping it in slowly. It’s a foreign feeling, and it has you squirming under his touch. He murmurs something in your ear you can’t quite make out, but it’s all a blur anyways when he begins sucking at your neck. He adds another finger, and he has to hold you in place. It’s almost painful, but the lube is a blessing.

Steve is suddenly in your sight, grabbing your chin to look at him. “Keep your eyes on me, I wanna see your face.”

Steve cups your core, chuckling slightly at how wet you still were... He’s able to slip two fingers in easily, and the noise that comes from your lips is something that you wouldn’t imagine. They go at two different paces, and you can’t think. You forget that you’re meant to be looking at Steve, and you focus on him again. Bucky has to hold you up as your knees keep wanting to give way. You have never felt this much before in your life.

“I...I feel weird..” The tingle in your gut was growing differently than any other orgasms you’ve ever experienced before. You lent more into Bucky's body, while Steve got down on his knees so he could be face to face with your dripping pussy. His tongue licks a long strip, making you gasp out, gripping his short hair. His fingers got faster while Bucky stayed at the same pace, making your brain shortcircuit. Before you could tell what was going on, you were cumming all over Steve’s face.

“Fuck, our baby just squirted,” Steve said in amusement while Bucky chuckled against your ear, making you blush even more than you were prior. They both pulled out making you whine. You left dizzy, unable to register what was happening. All you could do was watch Steve disappear for a second before reappearing with a towel, wiping his face clean with a smug smile plastered to it. You could hear the sound of a wrapper being opened behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Bucky rolling a condom on his thick length. He had a sweet smile, but you knew this man had a dark side. He was going to enjoy ruining you.

“Okay, Stevie, lay back and let our baby ride you.” Steve does what Bucky asks, laying down on the bed so you can straddle his hips. You guide his cock to your entrance and sink down on him, watching his face contort as you squeeze his length. He fills you perfectly, hitting spots inside you that make you see stars. Fuck, you swear every time you feel his cock it gets bigger. From behind, you suddenly feel Bucky’s fingers, slick from the lube, slide against your ass like he had done before. You shiver at the feeling but welcome it, angling your hips so he has better access.

“You feel so perfect squeezing me,” Steve moans from below you, hands reaching out to grope your breasts in order to distract you from the discomfort you might feel soon enough.

“Isn’t she tight, Stevie. Always so good for us ?” Bucky grins, pressing a finger into your ass. You hold your breath at the feeling, but Steve just whispers calming words to you. You relax into them as Buck slowly moves his finger. One finger becomes two, and you ride Steve a bit harder as you warm up to the feeling. He grips your hips and guides you on his large cock, working the pleasure from you.

“Please, James, please,” you beg, leaning back up against his chest. He kisses your neck and smiles at your neediness.

“You ready for me, Doll?” he teases, thrusting his fingers at a quicker pace.

“Fuck yes, Bucky, I need you so bad.” Bucky pulls you into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers and replaces them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Now be a good girl and take a deep breath.” Bucky keeps kissing you as he presses his cock further and further inside of you. Steve helps you relax, but you can tell it’s difficult for him, too. His strokes are getting messy as you get tighter around him. His release came quicker than he expected. Only a thin wall now separates Bucky and Steve’s cocks, and that just turns them on even more. It turns you on even more.

They pump into you simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm that makes your heart stutter. You’re at mercy to them, putty in their hands while their thrusts become different pacing, making it near hard to breathe.  All you can do is moan and beg, your brain becoming jelly the harder they fuck you. With their stamina, they last so much longer than other men. I guess the serm could be a blessing in some situations. They bring you to orgasm after orgasm, pleasing you seems to be their only goal.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve whimpers from below you, fingers digging into your hips with bruising force. “Please, I’m gonna come.” Bucky leans over to bite your shoulder, pumping into your ass with deeper strokes than ever.

“You gonna cum Doll? You want Stevie to cum inside you?” Bucky’s fingers wrap around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Oh my god, Stevie, please give it to me. Please come inside me,” you moan through your strong high, gripping onto Bucks’s metal arm. Steve comes on a long, drawn-out moan, sending Bucky over the edge right after. He thrusts into you a few more times before he becomes too sensitive, and then they’re both pulling out.

The three of you fall into a heap on the bed, panting and sweating for a moment. Bucky kisses you deeply before shifting to give Stevw the same treatment. Buck gets up to grab a washcloth while Steve holds you tightly, pampering your face with sweet kisses. They take care of you sweetly. Ensuring not to irritate your sensitive skin, Bucky cleans you up, and together, you and Steve care for Bucky. Once you are all done, you flop on the bed with Bucky on his back and you half on top of him. Steve cuddles up next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist while nuzzling his face into your shoulder. it was silent for a moment. The only things that could be heard were your bumping hearts and breathing that finally began to slow down. It was peaceful until Steve opened his big, smug mouth.

“Ready for round two?”

You have never wanted to slap him so much as right now.

[looneythin]

i can physically feel my mood and demeanor shifting every 4 minuets oh fuck

[kiibichio]

SAY IT ✩ C. STURNIOLO

OVERVIEW ;; last time you and your boyfriend, chris, had sex, his brothers heard you, you two played it off and managed not to get caught. but ever since, you’ve been insecure about your volume.. so you try to hide your noises, but chris fixes that.

CONTAINS ;; dom ! chris, sub ! reader, no use of y/n, begging kink (?), hella praise

mora speaks ;; so i was listening to say it by tory lanez and i thought abt this fic . then it left my mind 😭 THEN i saw an EDIT OF CHRIS to the song and i knew i just had to get this done. SO HERE WE AREE !! ENJOY 🙏🏾 (btw we jump straight into the story so buckle up)

date published ;; 3.20.24

not proofread

——————————————————————————————

4:11 pm

chris slams his lips onto mine while grabbing my hips and positioning me so im straddling him.

“god, baby..” he mumbles onto my mouth, “ive been waiting to do this since you got here..”

i came over to my boyfriend, chris’, house to visit my him and my friends (nick and matt). although they left about 20 minutes after i got here. claiming they were ‘getting food’ but they would probably be a while considering they never come straight back home. chris immediately took his chance and dragged me downstairs to his room eagerly. as soon as he got in he began taking his hoodie off and throwing on the floor, followed by mine. which brings us here.

after a good 5 minutes of making out, chris stops. he realizes he hadn’t gotten a sound out of me at all, which is odd because im usually the most vocal out of us two. this whole time it’s been ‘so good baby’ and ‘i missed you so much’ combined with small whimpers and quiet groans from chris. but none from me.

“hey, you’re real quiet. something wrong, ma? is it me?” he genuinely looks at me.

i sigh. there was something wrong.

“no, no! chris, baby, you did nothing wrong. you’re doing great. it’s just..”

“you can tell me. im here to listen and i won’t judge.” chris reassures me as he rubs my shoulder

“well.. it’s just- ever since that one time last week. you know, when matt and nick heard us?”

he nods, making eye contact with me.

“ive been thinking im too loud and extra… so im trying to change that. i don’t want to be an inconvenience to everyone else.”

which was true because who wants to hear me and chris fuck everytime we do. that’s also embarrassing to deal with. getting weird looks from your friends because of something that you’re were supposed to keep private, but couldn’t because of your volume? crazy.

he stares at me for a moment. did i say something wrong? then he chuckles.

“hey! what are you laughing for? i thought you said you wouldn’t judge.” i huff, pouting my lips and crossing my arms.

he throws his head back and continues to laugh, “baby.. are you serious? matt and nick aren’t even here right now.”

i look away from him, arms still crossed.

“hey. look at me, ma.” chris grabs hold of my chin and moves it, forcing me to make direct eye contact with him, “i do not care if my brothers hear us. i swear. i want everyone to know that you’re mine and im yours. i need to hear you say it. make all the noise you want, baby.”

“are you sure, chris?” i ask hesitantly

“100% positive”

he doesn’t let me respond again and immediately starts kissing me. he moves his hands up and down my body slowly, his left hand going to my ass and the right one moving to unclasps my bra under my shirt. he breaks away and his mouth travels towards my neck and chest area.

“mmh.. chris..” i whine.

“there’s my girl, keep those same pretty noises up for me while im inside of you.” he smirks against my collarbone.

he flips us over as to where im laying down on my back and he’s hovering over me. he starts moving his face downwards, leaving a trail of kisses on my stomach behind him. he hurriedly takes my pants and underwear off with one pull.

“ready, ma?” he breathes against my heat

“mhm..” i whimper

“louder, i can’t hear you.” he says teasingly

“yes, chris, please just touch me” i say, starting to beg, which i know he likes.

“whatever you say, princess.” he gives a sly grin before completely going down on me, eating as if this is his last meal.

“ohhh… fuckkkkk, just like that chris. keep going baby.” i moan loudly

chris smirks against me. hearing my noises is just turning him on even more. this makes him move his mouth faster. he loudly slurps and licks on me, trying to get more noises out of me as he lets his own out himself. my legs start to wriggle and close a bit, trying to get more pleasure. chris takes notice of this and holds them open and still with his left hand, his right being occupied with my clit, which he was toying with at a rapid pace.

“mmh.. taste s’good, baby. s’good.” he moans, face deep in my pussy, moving and hitting all the right places. he starts to quickly motion his tongue in and out of me. hands still on my clit and legs, holding them open.

“mghh.. yes, chris right there!” i yell out as my legs start shaking “b-baby, im about to-”

“do it. cum all over my face ma.” he mumurs

with one final flick of my clit, i burst and my juices start rolling onto chris’s mouth. he happily laps all of it up.

chris lifts himself up to give me a slow, heated kiss, making me taste myself on his tongue.

“you’re so good, princess. lets see if you can be even louder.” he smirks, winking at me.

he pulls his sweatpants down, his boxers following after. he gives himself a few pumps, spreading the precum all over his dick. chris looks up at me.

“ready, baby?” he asks, sweetly, lining himself up with me.

“yes, chris.. please” i whimper

he gives a small, silent chuckle at my begging before pushing himself all the way in me. he gives me a few seconds to adjust before slamming in and out of me.

“ohhh! oh my g-god…” i moan out

“yea, baby. say it. who’s making you feel like this?” he asks, relentlessly pounding into me

“you! fuckkkkk.. you chris. only y-you baby mmm..” i yell

all that’s heard now is the sound of squelching, coming from the spot where me and chris connect, moans, groans, whimpers and whines from the both of us, and skin slapping. a few moments later, he speeds up, now rapidly thrusting against me.

“chris! oh. shit shit shit shit. b-baby im close!” i warn, my legs starting to shake and my body starting to tremble under him.

“c’mon, baby. let it all out on me.” i can tell he’s close to by the way he tightens his grip on my waist and his thrusts get faster and sloppier.

“fill me up, baby. p-please.” i request.

that sentence alone makes him cum right there. and im close behind him, letting out a pornographic moan as i let my liquids out. chris’ thrusts slow down as he lets both of us ride out our high.

he pulls out and falls beside me as we take a few moments to breathe.

“that was great, baby.” he smiles at me, turning on his side so he can look at me.

“yea, you did amazing” i reply, giving him a smile as well

“im gonna go get a towel to clean us up.” he lifts himself up and makes his way to the bathroom. he returns with a damp towel and wipes me down. after that, we both get up to get dressed and make our way back to the living room. we put on a movie and wait for matt and nick to get back.

“ma.” chris looks at me.

“yes, baby?”

“do me a favor and don’t ever hide those pretty sounds from me again.” he says

“you got it baby” i laugh as i pull him and give him a soft kiss.

——————————————————————————————

mora speaks (again) ;; lmk if you guys enjoyed this oneee. i really liked writing because this is my first chris smut ‼️ ALSO MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN SO REQUEST AWAYYY. (might take me some time to do them but i will get to them !!) TOODLES <3

tag list ;; @sturniolos-blog @mayhem-72 @hearts4chris 🍵

[jobean12-blog]

I just had the cutest fluffy Bucky thought and I love your soft fluffy stories! ❤️

The team loads into the jet but you somehow end up last in and the seats around Bucky are taken so you sit on his lap. Steve/Tony tell everyone to prepare for departure so while everyone is buckling in, you pull Bucky's metal arm around your waist. Steve/Tony tell you to find your own spot with an actual seatbelt. "You really think that flimsy piece of fabric will keep me safer than this?" Bucky is smug and smirks at everyone but inside he's melting because the thing he hates most about himself makes you feel the safest. 😭🫠🥹

Hooked On A Feeling

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 897

Summary: Bucky has always been the one who makes you feel safest and maybe, just maybe, he can start to believe it's true.

Author's Note: Hi sweets! Thank you so much for this super sweet request, I absolutely love the idea of him being readers 'seatbelt'! So cute! I hope you enjoy this and thank you for kind words! Have a lovely day! 🥰Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics thank you love🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @mcavoys thank you lovely💕

“Let’s go slow poke!” Sam shouts. “We gotta get outta here.”

You trudge up the platform and into the jet, your legs sore and tired from the mission.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’”, you grunt.

You step foot inside and have to jump forward at the sound of the hatch beginning to close. You shoot Sam a dirty but playful glare before surveying the seating situation.

There isn’t any place to sit unless you’re going to squeeze yourself uncomfortably into the corner.

With a defeated sigh your shoulder slump and just before you resign to the worst seat ever you catch Bucky’s eye. He’s staring at you, his expression soft and inviting.  

“Grab a seat!” Sam shouts your way. “We’re takin’ off.”

You plod over to Bucky and stand between his widely spread legs.

“Can I sit with you Buck?”

“Of course ya can doll,” he says, patting his thigh.

You sit yourself down and lean against his chest, the tension of the mission melting from your body.

“Find a real sit babe,” Sam grumbles. “With a seatbelt.”

You roll your eyes and mumble something incoherent but then you realize you have the best seat on the jet.

With a smirk you take Bucky’s metal hand in yours and pull his arm around your waist. He immediately tightens his hold on you and pulls you closer.

“A real seatbelt,” Sam chides.

“You think one of those seatbelts is going to be better than this?” you ask with a scoff as you run your fingers over the metal plates on Bucky’s arm. “I’m in the safest spot on the jet.”

You turn your face to Bucky and give him a sweet smile. “And the comfiest.”

He blushes under your praise and dips his head with a chuckle. “Thanks doll face.”

You rest your head along his shoulder and give his scruffy cheek a kiss.

He looks up and locks eyes with Steve who is grinning like an idiot. Bucky throws Steve a smug smile and curls his other arm around you.

The ride back is smooth and you fall asleep in Bucky’s arms. When the jet lands everyone quickly unbuckles themselves and stands, eager to get home and rest.

You don’t stir and Sam walks over, opening his mouth to wake you.

“Don’t,” Bucky whisper shouts. “I’ve got her.”

He carefully releases his seatbelt and stands with you in his arms.

Once he’s brought you to your room and laid you on your bed he lingers in the doorway, watching your sleeping form.

“Don’t be creepy man,” Sam teases as he walks by.

“Huh?” Bucky asks, dragging is eyes away. “I’m not…I was just making… forget it.”

“You know she likes you right?” Sam says as he follows Bucky down the hall.

“Nah. She’s just a sweetheart. She likes everyone,” Bucky counters with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“She definitely is but I see the way she looks at you,” Sam continues.

Bucky is quiet for a moment before he shrugs off the comment and grabs a water bottle. “I’m gonna go shower.”

When he’s showered and dressed he walks back to your room and gently knocks. He doesn’t hear anything so he slowly pushes the door open and sees your body still curled up on the bed.

You shift and quietly speak his name.

“Yeah, it’s me doll. You ok?”

With a languid stretch you turn toward him and smile.

“I’m good, still tired though but I’m gonna go shower. Will you hang out? I won’t be long.”

“Sure doll.”

You shuffle off to the bathroom, returning shortly after in a tank top and shorts.

Bucky is sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through Netflix and he looks up at the sound of your feet.

He stares.

Your skin heats but despite the feeling a shiver skims down your spine.

“Are you cold?” he asks, standing as he swallows hard. “You can have my shirt…not that you need to cover up or anything, it’s just…I don’t want you to be cold but you uh look…you look beautiful. You always do.”

His awkward rambling dissolves your nerves and you step closer.

“Thanks Buck and yes, I do want your shirt, it’s chilly.”

Taking the hem of his Henley in his hands he begins to lift it over his head, revealing the patch of skin just above his sweats and the dark trail of hair that disappears into the waistband.

His tee shirt falls back down once he pulls the Henley off and you inwardly sigh.

With delicate movements he helps you into his shirt and you wrap yourself up in it’s warmth and smell.

“What do you wanna watch?” you ask him.

“What was that?” he says after a beat of silence, his gaze full of emotion as he stares at you in his Henley.

You repeat your question and he pulls out his small notebook, showing you the movie list he’s compiled. After you pick one you get comfortable on your bed and call him over. When he lays down you shimmy closer and slide under his metal arm, laying your head on his chest and snuggling into him. 

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“For what?” you ask as you crane your neck to look at him.

“For trusting me.”

You slip your fingers through his and give them a squeeze. “I always feel safest with you.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @goldylions @dreamlessinparis @lookiamtrying @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin