#to be perceived in a way I don’t like. and like yeah that’s part of life but also like not when I’m supposed to. e having fun please.

[adastra121]

Touchstarved OC Relationship Charts

I made the relationship charts for my Touchstarved OCs!

More about their relationships with the Touchstarved LIs below!

Person who made these templates is @deiimi

Jin the Abandoned Alchemist

“Friendship is...a new venture for me. But I promise, I'll do my best!”

Likes Kuras — “You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you, doctor?” Admires Kuras for his skills as a doctor and his selflessness. Finds his presence very soothing, which is great because he is a ball of constant anxiety.

Jin and Kuras have a lot of similarities in some ways. They are both naturally curious, they both seek to help others, they are both introverted, and they are both avid readers.

Oh, and they’re both INFJs and earth signs.

Kuras seems like the kind of person Jin would like to read next to. He wonders what sort of books Kuras likes. Perhaps he would have some recommendations.

Conversation is never boring with Kuras. Jin loves to discuss alchemy, theories, and experiments that he’s pondered attempting with him.

Jin insists on helping Kuras around his clinic where he can, since he believes he owes the latter a life debt now.

He stops by to gift Kuras something every now and then, like some food or tea, because have you ever seen the doctor eat or, gods forbid, cook anything? He worries for Kuras sometimes, even though Kuras would say there’s nothing to concern himself over.

Close with Leander — “Something about you makes me want to be more than I am — and yet, whenever I’m with you, I feel like…I’m enough.” Jin’s never met anyone so friendly, generous, and brave. Leander makes him want to be brave, too.

He wholeheartedly believes Leander is a good person. A mage of that kind of power and he uses it to help people for free. He lives in Lowtown. He’s given a home to the Bloodhounds.

Leander strikes him as a kind, dazzling, and genuinely good person.

And more puzzlingly, he’s fearless. Offered to let Jin — a complete stranger — inflict his curse on him, even tie him up so Jin could feel safer.

Try as he might, Jin just can’t understand why Leander is so kind to him. His whole life, he’s never been enough just as he is. His curse — his existence — is a blight he’s always had to seek atonement for. Not even the mage who basically raised him thought otherwise.

So for someone so bright and fearless and good to offer everything he yearns for like he’s actually worthy of it…that feeling is addictive. Almost more addictive than the feeling of warm, trusting flesh and blood under his fingers.

He can’t let Leander down. It has to be different this time.

Dislikes Vere — “I never know what to expect with you. I’m still working out whether that’s good or bad.” Everything about Vere startles Jin. Not just because he’s a killer, but because of his shamelessness and Jin flusters easily.

Vere is a bit unpredictable to Jin and that makes him nervous.

Vere’s constant games and teasing will probably take some getting used to. As well as the flirting and the innuendoes.

Doesn’t know whether to take Vere seriously a lot of the time.

Most honest person you’ll ever meet if you don’t listen to a damn word he says. Jin’s starting to learn what that means.

It will take a while for Jin to warm up to Vere.

Likes/Dislikes Ais — “You are everything I have been warned against and you seem to have made it your life’s mission to piss me off at every turn! So why do I trust you?” Despite not knowing each other very long, Ais has somehow managed to push every one of Jin’s buttons. But he’s also honest, and that’s something Jin respects.

Ais challenges Jin in ways he isn’t used to, and he finds that both frustrating and frustratingly enlightening.

Ais is intriguing to Jin, unlike anyone he’s met before. His cool, relaxed, and honest demeanor — his entire character is so different from Jin, who is anxious, cautious, and constantly worried about not being a burden, not making his existence harder for others to deal with.

Jin has a bad habit of lying to himself — sometimes he doesn’t even realize it — so whether subconsciously or not, he finds Ais’s honesty refreshing and…safe. Jin feels oddly safe around him.

Ais feels like the eye of a storm. A moment of clarity in the midst of desolation.

In some ways, Jin finds the most freedom in Ais. He allows himself to get upset, to make demands, to say aloud the sarcastic comments often kept in his head. He allows himself to take up space in a way that he usually doesn’t and it terrifies him, because what if he likes it too much? What if he can’t go back to the way he used to be?

Likes Mhin — “Ah, are you busy? Sorry, I’ll try not to get in your way!” Mhin seems very reliable to Jin, but also very focused on their goal. Jin doesn’t want to bother them.

To Jin, they feel like a startled animal in an unfamiliar place. He’s very cautious around them, tries not to upset them.

Jin would leave Mhin alone for the most part, wait for them to approach him.

They’d probably end up with each other in a rowdy tavern, Mhin being a loner and Jin being a bit of a wallflower.

If they end up conversing, I think they’d bond over their interest in alchemical experiments.

Alon the Stray Hound

Likes Kuras — “I like you, Doc, maybe a bit too much. You know, you’re not giving me much incentive to avoid getting hurt.” Already liked and found him curious when they first met, but after discovering his mischievous streak? She wants to team up to pull the prank of the century.

Like Mhin, Alon admires his selflessness and how he helps the people of Lowtown, seemingly for free.

Kuras piques their curiosity. He’s graceful, mysterious, unshakable. They want to know if there’s anything more beneath that seemingly untouchable image.

He’s like an impenetrable safe they’re trying to crack. She doesn’t know what’s inside until it opens, but they’ve decided it’s worth the effort. There’s something invaluable in there, she just knows it. He’s a puzzle to them and they like puzzles.

Evading an angry Senobium cleric through Eridia’s labyrinth of a city with Kuras was the first time she felt at home since her old crew’s betrayal.

Likes Leander — “I’m no mage, but even I know you and I could make magic together.” Instantly clicked with him due to their similarities. There’s two of them now. And that’s everyone else’s problem.

Looking at both their relationship charts, it looks like they’re fighting for the Protagonist role.

Being the Hound, they’ve got good instincts and they know Leander is putting on a show most of the time. Alon’s not too worried because they’re also a performer — a jester who works and charms the crowd, both to survive and because they genuinely love it. So as far as Alon’s concerned, Leander can keep his secrets — at least, until it hurts others.

Look this is what happens when you put two people with a hero complex together okay they can end up being heroic against each other

They’re both magicians, though Leander does actual magic and Alon does sleight of hand.

Alon also probably had a Robin Hood thing going for them and their crew in the past.

Likes Vere — “You’re trouble, Foxy. I like that in a man.” Finds his assholery hilarious, shares his love for mischief and distaste for rules. The chain and collar plays right into her hero complex, though, so that might be concerning…

Loves to match Vere innuendo for innuendo. Vere’s insinuations tend to be more elegant, though, while Alon has a whole arsenal of “deez nuts” or “your mom” jokes.

Genuinely wants to help Vere out of his imprisonment, but how to make him see…

“I mean, yeah, so you killed some people — Not saying I condone it! — but the Senobium deals with that crime by…forcing you to kill people? Sheesh, and authorities call me an outlaw.”

Likes Ais — “Hey there, Soup Guardian. Guardian of the Soup. Ocudeus quivers before him.” Admires Ais’s straightforwardness and cool charisma. Thinks he’d be a loyal friend, or at the very least, a fun drinking buddy.

I don’t think Alon would be romantically attracted to Ais. They’d find Ais attractive, though. Like, they have eyes.

Would visit Ais to chat or play with Princess and the other Soulless creatures.

Finds his calm presence grounding, and likes that he listens to them ramble on about whatever pops into her mind at the moment.

Would join him in a bar brawl. Would help him start one, would help him end one.

Loves to banter with him since they’re both sarcastic little shits.

Okay, I’ll give him a serious quote from them: “Let me know if you need someone to take Princess out for a walk! I’m your guy.”

Likes Mhin — “You helped me, now I’ve got your back! So what d’ya say? You with me, partner?” Finds them interesting, cute and fun to fluster. Wants to get to know them better.

Remember when I said she likes puzzles? Mhin is a sort of puzzle to them, too. Full of odd contradictions and pieces that don’t fit together. They are lonely and they need help, but they insist on doing everything on their own. They say they don’t care, but they keep helping her. What’s their deal?

They find Mhin fun. Fun to figure out, fun to fluster, fun to chat with.

Mhin strikes Alon as lonely and in need of a friend — maybe it’s their hero complex saying to lend a hand or maybe it’s because they’re in the same spot, but Alon wants to reach out to them.

She believes they share the same goals. Of course, Mhin doesn’t have to accept her ambitious propositions of teaming up to pull a Senobium heist, but she can’t shake this hopeful feeling around them — that if they worked together, maybe neither of them would be alone anymore.

I did not intend to make them Mhin’s foil in my playthrough but um. So far…

They are both cursed. They are both newcomers to Eridia. They are both seeking to get into the Senobium. They are both lonely.

Alon is charming and outgoing and always seeking to make new friends, even if she ends up getting hurt. Mhin is the opposite, pushing people away to protect themselves, prevent themselves or others from getting hurt.

Mhin is sullen and short-tempered whereas Alon is optimistic and hard to ruffle. Though I guess that’s already evident in how she likes everyone already.

Mhin is blunt and straightforward — they have their secrets, but this is the vibe I get from them. They’re usually honest with their feelings, emotionally constipated as they seem. Alon is also emotionally constipated but in a completely different direction. She deflects and covers up their unpleasant feelings and other uncomfortable topics with jokes like it’s an Olympic sport and she’s the defending champion.

Alon is adventurous, impulsive and adaptive. They thrive in change and chaos, but deep down, they crave stability and a home. Meanwhile, Mhin strikes me as someone who prefers the security of the familiar, when they need a change.

Their fighting styles would be so different. It’s like earthbending vs airbending (if any of you guys are ATLA fans). I think Mhin has a very efficient and precise method of taking down enemies. They make every strike count and they don’t hesitate. Alon, on the other hand, likes playing tricks, using traps and diversions, discombobulating and dancing around their enemies. Mhin is a hunter, Alon is a thief — her goal isn’t usually to take down her opponents, it’s to escape or avoid direct engagement. Not that they can’t fight — they did grow up on the streets — but Alon will always choose to sweet talk, confuse, incapacitate, or run where they can.

Alon’s colour is orange to contrast Mhin’s blue. Similar to how Leander’s green contrasts against Ais’s red and Kuras’s yellow contrasts Vere’s purple. And although I wish I could say otherwise, it is completely unintentional. I wanted to give Alon a bright colour that stood out from the others because that’s their character. They are bright and colourful and fun.

Alon’s colour scheme is semi-inspired by the sun (bright orange, yellow, and pinks like the sunset) and Mhin’s colours more closely resemble the moon.

I just think this is cute. Mhin likes stargazing. Alon has freckles. And you know how there’s always poems and metaphors about freckles being constellations on skin?

[itgoeso]

.

[bigfishthemusical]

>_< ok whatever going with my friends to the gay bar to see a show and then we are staying out tomorrow night and I’m going to be so brave and after I’m finished I will become a recluse and not speak to a single person for an entire month. No one should perceive me ever.

[pepprs]

ppl are being so fucking mean in the notes of this one wc post abt the new excerpt like. don’t get me wrong i think redacted is a deeply flawed character and i share everyone’s anger and frustration in his storyline being so badly written and lazily thought out and a perfect example of the misogyny in wc like that’s part of why i stopped reading the books bc they kind of fucking suck. but ppl in the notes are saying he’s a loser and should die over… resenting that he is the last person picked for the team? like is that not a universal experience. have we not all been through that. idk. like i know that’s not the most important aspect of this conversation and at the end of the day it’s a fictional character but also it’s like… lol

[kithtaehyung]

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

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

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

-

-

There’s no way.

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

“No fuckin’ way.”

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

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

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

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

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

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

“Play.” 

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

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

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

“And you’re paying me double.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

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

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

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

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

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

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

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

However. 

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

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

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

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

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

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

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you don’t like it one bit. 

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

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

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

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

“What?” 

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

“After what he did to you?” 

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

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

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

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

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

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

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

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

-

-

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

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

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

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

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure? That looked…”

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

Motherfucker. 

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

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

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

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

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

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

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

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

Weird. 

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

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

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

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

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

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

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

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

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

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what!”

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

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

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

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

“Stop and just think for a second—”

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

“Dumb as fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

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

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

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

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

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

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

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

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

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

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

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

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

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

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

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

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“He was gonna—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

And you mean that. 

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

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

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

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

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

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

-

-

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

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

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

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

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

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

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

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

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

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

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

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

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

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

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

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

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

Finally. “Hello.” 

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

“You’re here?” 

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

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

“Not tonight.”

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

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

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

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

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

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“…No.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

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

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

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

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

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

What did he do, what did he do?

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

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

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

Shit, this is everywhere. 

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

“Stop.”

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

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

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

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

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

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

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

It hurts.

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

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

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

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

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

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

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

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

One more. Two more. Another one here.

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

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

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

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

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

“I still need to—” 

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

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

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

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

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

“You think I’m joking?” 

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

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

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

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

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

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

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

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

“Do you even know?” 

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

“That’s cus—” 

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

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

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

Fine then. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

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

“That’s what I said.” 

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

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

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

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

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

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, hold u—” 

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

“Just listen—” 

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

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

“I swear to—” 

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

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

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

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

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

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

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

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

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

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

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

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

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

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

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

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

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

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

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

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

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

“Make me.”

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

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

This is liberation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t make me do shit—”

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

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

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

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

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

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

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

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

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

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

“Asshole—” 

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

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

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

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

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

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

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

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

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

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

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

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

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

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

Every. Single. Time. 

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

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

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

“Do it yourself then.” 

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

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

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

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

“Nah.” 

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

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

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

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

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

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

“Then fucking come.” 

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

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

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

“I said again.” 

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

“Yoongi—” 

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

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

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

“Baby.” 

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

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

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

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

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

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

“There you go. Keep going.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

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

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

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

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

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

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

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine.” 

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

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

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

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

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

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

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

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

“How about we share it.” 

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

“Okay.” 

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

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

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

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

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

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

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scroll, scroll. 

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

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

Scroll, scroll. 

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

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

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

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

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

His eyes. 

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

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

“I love you, doll.”

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

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

No. 

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

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

What?

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

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

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

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

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

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

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

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

He loves you.

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

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

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

“Yoongi, I—”

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

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

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

“It’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knew what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

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

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

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

“What—”

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

Again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

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

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

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

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

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

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

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

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

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

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

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

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

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

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

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

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

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

All of you.

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

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

Every single stop.

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

Swelling, you already feel close. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

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

Yoongi only grins. 

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

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

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

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

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

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

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

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

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

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

Never close enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi…”

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

“Then… Those three months…”

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

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

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

Oh. That’s news to you. 

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

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

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

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

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

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

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

“What if he does?”

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

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

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

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

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

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

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

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

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

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

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

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

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

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

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

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

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

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

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

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

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

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

“You love it.” 

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

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

“Guess what.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can!” 

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

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

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

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

…What?

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

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

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

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

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

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

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

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

-

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tbc. :)

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

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

[wosoamazing]

Diabetes

Summary: You join arsenal and move in with Beth and Viv, you're nervous how everything will go, but ultimately it was perfect

Warnings: Diabetes, Hypoglycaemia, Glucagon shot, let me know if anything else.

A/N: Just a bit of a cute fluffy fic, I tried to get everything right medically but IDK if it is perfect. I hope you like it. If I did get something wrong let me know. Also as always happy to do part 2s if requested but pls add some detail on what you want to see.

You were originally going to move in with Leah however the Medical Team said it would be best for you to live with two people, so you moved in with Beth and Viv, you were very nervous as to how they would perceive you, and whether they would be accommodating of your diabetes or not. You knew the medical team had discussions with them and that the club had forced them to do the emergency training for really bad lows and highs, what you didn't know was that they asked the club if they could find them some more training courses, they had done just about everyone single one, from how to use a Dexcom and an Omnipod as these were the devices you used, to how to live everyday life with diabetes. 

So when you turned up to their house you were very surprised to see some snacks sitting out on the bench, each with a piece of paper next to them, with the amount of carbs in them. They had really gone out of their way to help you settle in and make your life easier.

“Um, we have something to show you.” Beth said, kind of hesitant, you followed them over to a cupboard, “Um, it might be a little silly but this is for you,” she said as she opened the cupboard. It was empty other than some shelves, and draws, some organisation baskets, a mini fridge and a basket full of lollies. “There are some juices in there, we didn’t know what flavour you liked so we bought a pack of each, if you don’t like a flavour that's okay, we also got you these, they are all 15g of Carbs each, um but we can buy anything else you want or prefer, and um we thought you could put all of your supplies in here so they are organised and there is even a label maker so we can label the draws and stuff if you want oh and this is for you I suppose.” She said as she picked up a phone, it was a brand new iPhone 15 “it's more for the club, they were originally going to by you a android but we told them you wouldn't use it so yeah, the idea is we connect it to you sensors as like an additional device, so that everyone has access to your levels, so like at night we will keep it beside our bed so if anything happens we are alerted and during games the medical staff will have it and during training I think Kelly is mainly going to have it.” you nodded knowing you couldn't speak, the kindness of both women, and seeing how much they more cared and were going to 100% help you caused you to become emotional you felt a single tear roll down your face, causing the pair to panic lightly “You could have a cupboard somewhere else if you wanted or we could show you, your bedroom, it's pretty bare but we had plans to take you shopping so you could decorate it and make it your own,” another tear roll down your face, “are you okay, did I say something wrong? Did I do something wrong?” you shook your head “th-thank you” Beth pulled you in for a hug “it's nothing really” but it was something it was everything, it was perfect. You spent your day moving in. 

You set up the cupboard first, you drew a plan of where everything was going to go, detailing it before everything started to get put into the cupboard. Your plan worked very well and the cupboard was very organised and practical. Viv thought it was quite cute, she was going to like this side of you very much. Once you had set up the cupboard you got to go shopping, first you went to the homemaker centre, buying some bedspreads, pillows, and decorations from multiple different shops, to make more room in the car you had to do a pit stop at home, chucking it sll through the front door, before heading back out for lunch, it was the first time Beth and Viv had experienced eating out with Diabetes, well even just eating and diabetes. You were very well practised at it, and helped Beth and Viv learn, showing them how you did everything, you taught them how to estimate carbs, but that differently needed practise on their end, you also showed how you can either your phone or your pod controller to set up the insulin delivery and you even pricked their fingers to test their levels for fun, you liked how they weren’t over cautious about it and how they weren’t treating you differently, and also the fact that they didn’t see it as annoying, really you just liked everything about them. You then went to IKEA to get a desk, a chest of drawers and some other items for your bedroom. Once you got home you set up your room, you were putting your clothes away when you were interrupted by Beth and Viv calling you down for dinner.

“Stuffed capsicums!” You yelled as you walked into the kitchen.

“Inside voice,” “Vivvy, it’s cute, your parents told us they were one of your favourites and we thought after the lunch we had today they would be a good choice, how many do you want?”

“Two please, thank you,” “you’re welcome, if you want we can sit on the couch and watch a movie.” you nodded your head before making your way over to the couch.

-

“Come in,” Viv said after you knocked on the door, her face dropped when you opened the door and she saw your red puffy eyes, and tear stained cheeks. You had been crying because you were so relieved and happy, and you wanted to thank them again.

“Kleintje, is everything okay?” Viv asked, causing Beth to pop her head out of the bathroom mid teeth brushing, the sight of you caused her to quickly move back to the bathroom rinsing out her mouth before pulling you in for a hug.

“T-thank you, for everything, it was perfect, you didn’t have to do any of it”

“Of course Kleintje,” Viv walked over to the two of you joining in the hug.

“We want you to feel welcomed and comfortable, it is now your house too. But please if you need us for anything at all you can come wake us up, our door is always open.” 

“Figuratively, not literally” you giggled slightly at Viv’s comment.

“Let's all go to sleep. Hey. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow” Beth said.

_____

Your second day was a training day, you Beth and Viv arrived early, as you had a few meetings, the first one was with Jonas and Kelly, about everything but also your diabetes, then the medics and some other people, Beth and Viv came with you to all of them. As you sat in the tactical session, you sipped on your apple juice popper as you listened intently, trying to ignore Beth and Steph’s talking, you were one to think tactics were a major part of the game, something else Viv would come to like. You then had a short gym session and then it was lunch, everyone was wondering what it was going to be, you already knew but decided not to tell them, you had been given the menu for the week, to select some things that you would want, so that they could make up a plate for you, ensuring they could tell you the exact amount of carbs. You walked in to find your plate sitting on the bench next to all the other food, it was a chicken burger, on wholemeal bread rather than a burger bun, you also had some snacks. There was a piece of paper next to it that had your name on it and the amount of carbs in each item, including each item of the burger. You picked up your plate and walked over to Beth, who pointed to the table she usually sat at, so you sat down there, waiting for her and others to join you, Kelly soon walked in with your kit, which you accidentally forgot at the meeting, you took it from her gratefully and she told you what would be happening in training so you had some idea of how much you needed to adjust your insulin. You picked up your phone and checked to see what it said your sugars were at, your phone said your sugars were at 90 which was perfect considering your target range was between 80-100, you were unzipping your kit when some of the team came to sit down, Beth sat next to you, Steph, Katie, and Caitlin also sat down. You pulled out your lancing device and pricked your finger, using your metre to confirm your reading before putting the units you needed for the burger into your pod controller.

“Do you mind us asking?” Katie questioned what you were doing.

“Um, I have diabetes, I was diagnosed when I was two, but it means that I have to manually control my blood sugars. My body doesn't do it at all, so I have to calculate the insulin I need for when I eat," "Right,” she nodded her head.

____

You had a few hiccups with your diabetes since living with Beth and Viv, but nothing major, however that was going to change. It was the 60th minute and you felt your body start shaking, the medics hadn’t called a paused or called you over and even thought you felt funny at half time your levels were normal, if anything slightly high, but you knew you were low, not only was your body shaking, but your brain hurt and felt foggy, you were also struggling to not fall over. You knew you needed to get off the pitch soon, before you passed out. A corner gave you the perfect opportunity to tell Beth you were low, you walked up to her, she looked at you confused and concerned.

“L-Low” you managed to say to Beth before you collapsed forward on her, she lowered you to the ground and the ref immediately blew the whistle, the medical team was on the pitch immediately, players from both teams were starting to form a huddle around you, trying to protect you from the media.

-

They were checking your sugars, as Beth got a Glucagon shot ready, she was ready to go when she got the nod of approval from the medics. Beth injected the shot into you and you were immediately rolled onto your side by the medics, waking up just moments later, in a panicked state, sitting up. 

“It’s okay, you passed out from being low, we had to give you a Glucagon, but it’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Beth said as she rubbed your back.

“S-sta-stay?” you managed to get out eyes wide open with fear.

“Go with her, I’ll tell Jonas,” Beth nodded.

Viv met you and Beth in the medical room, she sat on a chair while Beth sat on the bed with you, you were given some gummy bears as well as an apple juice popper, to try and elevate your levels, you were still shaky and sweaty but your vision was completely clear and the medics and paramedics cleared you, which meant you didn't have to go to the hospital, but Beth and Viv had very strict instructions to take you to the hospital if certain things happened, such as seizures, loss of consciousness and others. 

“Do you want to go home now Kleintje?” you nodded as you ate a gummy bear.

_____

You were very nervous for your first camp, for how the staff would handle your diabetes but more so the team. The last game you played for Arsenal was the one you passed out during. You visited your endo after that incident and he had recommended putting tape over your sensor and pod when you played. The sensor had slightly pulled out during your arsenal game and so it wasn't actually reading your blood sugar.

It was your first training session and Beth had helped you, with the supervision of the medical team, put tape around your arms covering your sensor and pod, it was so you could get used to the feeling of it before your first game. You weren't required to have tape over your sensor and pod during training as you had frequent breaks which you could be checked during.

-

As you warmed up with Lauren Esme and Niamh, Ella and Alessia walked over to you.

“Why do you have tape on your arms?”  Ella asked. “Ella you can't just ask that” Mary said as she walked over with Beth, who had overhead the question, so she stood behind you placing her hands on your shoulders. “You don't have to tell them.” Beth whispered in your ear, you did want to tell them but you weren't sure you wanted to tell them right now.

“Oh um,” you were saved by Sarina calling the team over. While Sarina talked one of the medics came over to you, she handed you the phone and you saw your reading, being nodding and sticking your hand out to her, hoping that somehow in the non contact warm up the sensor had moved and that reading wasn't true, as if it was you most likely weren't going to get to do training this morning. You were handed a small container filled with 6 sour worms which told you the reading was true, you opened the container and started to eat them while Sarina kept talking.

“Why don’t we get sour worms?” Ella whined.

“Because you’re not special enough.” you inform her, causing everyone to break out into laughter.

“I like her,” Millie said as she high fived you. Sarina ignored all the commotion, she was obviously used to it and just continued talking. “Y/N could I just talk to you quickly?” she said as you and the girls started to disperse, you nodded and walked over to her.

“Sorry Sarina. I didn’t mean to-” “No, that's not what I wanted to speak about but I appreciate the apology. I wanted to talk to you about telling the girls, is it something you would like to do?”

“Um, yeah I think, I just don’t know how to tell them and like I don't want them to think of me differently”

“That's okay, I think sooner rather than later would be better, maybe today during dinner? During the announcements. Becky could help you, or even Beth or anyone you wanted, I could even just tell them and we wouldn't need to discuss it if you wanted.”

[averywiseanimatedcat]

6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.

The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.

Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.

Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.

As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.

But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like

The wall push (which was aggressive)

The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal

The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)

Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up

Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, Neil said they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?

And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’

Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. He reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. And I think he has been holding back (we can see that on his face) but there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm

When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out

And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. But Crowley just gets out of the way like he does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.

And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.

So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.

[eternity-death]

I would like to give out some technical cyborg tips for people who write Boothill!!!

Cyborg ≠ Robot. Robots are entirely machine (SCREWLLUM is a robot)… a cyborg is part human part machine. And when I say part human I am SPECIFICALLY talking about the brain. A cyborg is literally a human brain encased in a mechanical body. There could be nothing organic in the body— no skin, bones, veins, nerves, etc— but as long as there is a human brain running it, it is still a cyborg. Boothill’s head is almost entirely organic— but his eyes were probably tinkered with and given enhancements.

Do cyborgs need sleep? Yes. A human brain is still a human brain, and the brain NEEDS sleep to function. However, they may not need to sleep as often as a normal human does.

Do cyborgs need to eat? Yes (Kind of)!! Again, it’s a human brain, and the brain needs nutrients or it will begin to eat itself. Now, HOW the nutrients is acquired is subjective. Some cyborgs may eat normally, while some might have other ways to receive the nutrients they need. How? Not sure. Maybe they have a reserve somewhere in their body that supplies nutrients to the brain.

Do cyborgs need to bathe? Also subjective. It probably depends on how much of the cyborg’s body has been altered. If it’s still mostly organic then yeah, probably. But in Boothill’s case he might just need to spiff it up every now and then (kind of like washing a car), there’s probably special treatments for bodies like his. He does have to wash his hair regularly, though. “Can he get wet?” I think he can handle a few splashes/travel in the rain, but I’m not sure if he can submerge himself in a body of water.

Can cyborgs feel physical touch? THIS is subjective, but honestly, I don’t think they can. We have receptors in our body that allow us to feel things— I don’t think you can replicate that in a mechanical body. I do think he has special sensors that can perceive the closeness of a foreign object/another person, but I don’t think he can FEEL them.

Anyways, that’s all for now. Hope this helps!!!

[lunarliyah]

Everyone’s favorite types of astrology posts..

Astrology observation’s 🤍

By lunar liyah

Juno In Sagittarius people love to travel with their partner. Prefers someone that is out of state and sometimes even out the country. Their obsession with travel and exploring is also a huge part of their love language.

Moon/Mercury

🤝

Moon/Mars

Both experiencing major headaches. In fact, they get headaches easier than others. If they don’t eat enough or take long periods of time without eating can result in headaches. Being tired can cause headaches. Quicker than normal and typically more painful.

Aquarius placements can be some of the most delusional people. They can lack self awareness. They are be so opinionated on others and what they’re doing. They can try so hard to pick apart what others have going on. As soon as someone says “you” to them, defense mode.

Leo and Capricorns have very similar energy. Both can be very sure of themselves and what they want. Both are goal oriented. Having both Leo and Capricorn in a natal chart, specifically in the big three, makes someone very reliable and independent. (My favorite type of placements tbh lol) Both energy care about how they’re perceived, they don’t do anything without thought. Contrary to popular belief, Leo’s are very calculated people. All earth signs are calculated in different ways of course. Capricorns in particular have a way of playing chess and making sure that they do things that benefit them in the long run. As far as these energies being together in a relationship, perfect match. Leo being a fixed sign, this energy wants to make things work. They are not easy to give up on things and people. They make change happen if need be but only to keep the stability in their connection with others. At the end of the day you can summarize that as being loyal. Capricorns never leave people high and dry. They are straightforward with their ACTIONS. They are honest and if they care enough (lol) they’ll speak up. For the most part, they are showers. They show people how much they care. Which Leo’s loves. A doer, not someone who’s all talk. They’re the show off and the ones doing to talking! Not their partner. Capricorns are also very loyal as well. I personally love love love these two together. Power couple for real. Also makes the best of friends too!

Cardinal

These people are considered the scout. The leaders. What this means is when it comes to relationships, they are more upfront about what they want and what their needs are. They enjoy people to let them take the lead. They are not afraid of pursuing people they want in their life. Romantically or friendship wise. They’re more picky and they are definitely more independent. It doesn’t take them long to move on. (cancers.. yeah maybe a little different but once they’re gone, it no way possible for anyone to get the back) They shoot their shot directly and can even be flirty. They do not beat around the bush at all. They like to jump straight into things. Sometimes this does backfire. Moving too fast into things. Rushing even. Thinking too far ahead. Sometimes they can stress themselves out by thinking too much into the future or may even be seen as bossy. Or pushy even.

(Capricorn, Aries, Cancer, & Libra)

Mutable

These people are more inclined to fluctuate. They love having variety and options. They tend to not sit still, ever. Always on the go. Tend to go well with someone who helps balance them out. They are not the neatest people, yes even Virgos. These people are not that straightforward I’ve realized only when it comes to things they aren’t passionate about. In comparison for cardinal signs, it doesn’t take much for them to pursue anything. These people struggle with finishing project, ideas, etc. They can have an idea that they sit on for days (or forever). These people are very creative though. Don’t underestimate their creativity. They just need that push to execute and consistency.

(Pisces, Gemini, Virgo, & Sagittarius)

Fixed

These will be your most unconvincing, stubborn, my way or the highway type of people ever. They rarely change their minds. The way they’re used to something is how it will be for a long time. How they were raised shows up a lot in their adult life. These people enjoy routine. These people also love the thought of continuous things. These people don’t like forming deep relationships with new people. They will try to make things work. They will be very loyal people. Aquarius is known to be flaky. But they’ll be there for those who give them space and don’t conflict with their decisions and beliefs.

(Aquarius, Taurus, Leo, & Scorpio)

Thank you all for reading. I’m open for doing synastry readings and natal chart readings all week. Make sure to book your reading in my bio. Again, thank you all for reading have a nice day!

[doki-doki-imagines]

Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.”  Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

[seredelgi]

Sweet Punishment

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Dom!Levi Ackerman x Sub!Fem!Reader, Levi Ackerman x You

summary: Reader's relationship with Levi is everything she could've asked for, he's very sweet and never gets mad at her. There's only one little rule she needs to follow, and when she fails to, then he'll have to punish her.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: dom!levi, sub!reader, smut, like a lot, fingering, sex, vaginal sex, dubious consent (she enjoys it tho, believe me), spanking, blood (just a little cut on the lip, but still), unprotected sex (don't try it at home lol), penetration, manhandling (just a tiny bit, she's totally fine) vulgar language?, oh yeah, choking (no passing out), orgasm denial, slight degradation?, idk, this man has me feral, NO SPOILERS

word count: 4.6k

a/n: alright alright, last episode is out, and I'm just in love with Levi so I went down a rabbit hole of smut before deciding to write something down. It's just a scrap, I haven't put much thought in it so keep it in mind. Also, English is not my mother tongue, so go easy on me. Thoughts are in italic

tags: @imlevisoneandonlywife

Part 2

Your boyfriend is just so very good to you that it often makes you question how in the world have you gotten so lucky.

He’s known to be a man of few words, a true soldier, the best in what he does. You’ve never seen him in action, of course, but you’ve heard the stories and the way they’re being told. His subordinates tell them with a glimpse of ecstatic excitement in their eyes, his colleagues with a blatant silent respect. It’s honestly mesmerizing to see the effect he has on people.

But it is nothing compared to the effect he has on you.

You don’t need to see him slaying Titans to know he’s the best. He carries it wherever he goes, whatever he does, he has an aura to him that just draws you in.

And even though he’s perceived by everyone to be just a grumpy man, you get to see his sweetest side. Once Levi gets someone close to his heart, he becomes so severely attached to them that it’s almost suffocating. He showers you with his love and attention, compliments, gifts, simple little signs of his undying devotion towards you. And even though infamously ruthless on the battlefield, you’ve never seen him upset in your regards. Not that you’ve ever given him any reason to be, it’s pretty simple to please him. He’s not even the jealous type, maybe ‘cause he’s way too confident for his own good.

There’s only one little thing that he won’t compromise on.

Since the first time you two have had sex, he’s firmly stated that he wanted to be the only one to pleasure you, that not even you were permitted to relieve the tension on your own. It took you aback a little, but since he’d just managed to make you see stars you agreed.

Honestly, that decision has never truly bothered you that much, he was definitely worth the wait.

But now, as you're home alone waiting for him to get back home, you can’t stop thinking about him, about how good it feels to have him slide inside of you, and pump in and out with that effortlessly relentless pace he usually reserves you so kindly.

You try to focus on each chore you’re on at the moment, but anytime you try your mind seems to wander on its own, and you find yourself aching for him, catching glimpses of the clock hanging in the kitchen, counting down the hours that separate you from seeing him again.

You must be ovulating, ‘cause you feel so damn empty just thinking about him, needing to be filled so desperately it’s almost funny.

“ Just hormones” you huff quietly as you finish washing the dishes “ breathe, y/n”

You’ve never actually considered breaking Levi’s rules, you wouldn’t like lying to him about it. But right now his request just seems so unreasonable.

You eye the door of your bedroom from afar.

He doesn’t have to know.

It’s just one little slip, one little sin to remove a bit of the tension and be able to ease your mind.

For some reason your heart’s racing as you tiptoe silently towards the bedroom, sitting on your bed and sighing as you remember what happened in it the other night. Thinking about it makes you feel incredibly hot between your legs. You can feel your juices stain the white cotton of your panties.

You bite your bottom lip, considering if maybe you should just get up and get back to your chores, maybe put something up in the oven for dinner.

But it’s impossible when all it takes is for you to close your eyes and you can see him, holding you in his arms, leaving humid kisses down your neck, whispering huskily in your ear all the things he wants to do to you.

“ Fuck it” you click your tongue in surrender and place yourself laying back on the center of the mattress.

It’s his fault honestly, for being so ridiculously hot and impossible to wait for. And anyway, he’ll never know. You’ll make it quick. It’s still an hour before he comes back. Plenty of time for you to get off even more than once.

So you lean back and relax.

You close your eyes and he’s there again, looking down at you with hungry eyes, touching you all over your naked body. And as you imagine his touch upon you it’s easy, almost like following his orders, scanning your hands upon the warm skin of your breasts, your fluttering stomach, all the way down between your thighs.

You get rid of your panties, breaths quickening as you can feel his tongue sucking on your hardened nipples. Your whole body is aching so bad just thinking about it, yearning for his hands on you so bad it’s almost bruising.

As you part your legs and gently slip your middle finger between your folds a sudden cry of arousal breaks free from your throat. You just wish it were him touching you, his fingers sliding silently inside of you as you're doing now, gathering your juices before slipping out of your entrance again to bring them toward your clit.

You’re so incredibly wet. He’d surely comment on it if he were here, mocking you for how desperate you look for him. It would be embarrassing if it didn’t turn you on even more. And now that your fingertips are finally massaging your bundle of nerves, that agonizing tension you’ve been feeling all day just gathers in your lower abdomen, ready to let loose.

You’ve been horny all day, so it figures that you’re already so close.

It’s shameful, but it’s true.

Your free hand grips your sheets so hard you think you’ll have to iron them again if you don’t want Levi to notice. But that’s not your concern now. You’re lost in your lust, eyes shut picturing your man sliding inside of you with his cock, whispering all kinds of dirty prayers into your ear. It’s almost as if he’s there.

“ What do you think you’re doing?”

You take a few instants to realize that it’s really him asking you that, flesh and blood in your room, standing by the door and looking at you with the kind of gaze that you’re sure would send any reasonable man a shiver running down their spine.

“ Fuck- Levi” you pant, your hand coming off of you in a spurt, hoping in vain that he won’t comment on it, that he’ll let it slide “ I didn’t hear you come in”

His silver-grey eyes don’t come off of you as you sit at attention, closing your legs and trying to gain some composure. Your mind spins so fast it takes your breath away, your heart stammering loudly in your chest as he clenches his jaw.

He’s standing there, mere meters away from you, his uniform still on, a severe expression darkening his beautiful features.

That’s impossible not to find hot.

“ Yeah, that much was clear” he hums, and by the tone of his voice it’s difficult to determine how actually mad he is, being it the first time you ever break that rule “ So this is what you do when you’re home alone, huh?”

“No it’s not like that, I was just-” you don’t know why you’re so fast at trying to justify yourself when you know full well you haven’t done anything wrong.

You should tell it to him straight. That he doesn’t own you. He might be the best fighter in the known world, a Captain of the Scouts Corp, but that doesn’t give him the right to exert control over your God damn body.

But the words die in your throat. It’s suddenly really hot in there, and you’re still very fucking horny. You’re ashamed to admit that you find yourself quite attracted to this side of him, one you’ve never had the pleasure to fully unravel.

“ Just what? Trying to have fun without me?” he’s finally moving, walking towards the chair in front of your bed, getting rid of his jacket and placing it tiredly upon it.

“ Just warming up for when you came home, honey” you sound so out of breath, and you’re trembling.

You don’t actually think he would do you any harm, and yet his eyes suggest otherwise, his demeanor exudes danger from every pore. If that’s just a hint of the coldness he carries himself into battle with, then it’s no wonder fucking Titans fall at his feet.

“ You know that’s not how it works” his voice is low, steady “ But maybe you need a little reminding”

A hint of mischief lightens up the tension, and he starts walking towards you, slow and lethal like the man you know he is.

“ I didn’t even finish, I swe-”

But you’re cut off by his sudden movement, a quick dash to get a hold of your face, squishing your cheeks together with a hand, he gives you the kind of look that shuts you the hell up and gets that familiar tickle go wild between your legs. You subtly squeeze your thighs together to give your pussy some kind of attention, disobeying right in front of him kind of getting you off now.

“ I’m the only one that can give you pleasure” he almost growls at you, and his hold is so strong it’s bruising you now “ Understood?”

“ Yes, Sir” it’s all you’re able to reply, mind too foggy to gather anything else.

But it looks like he likes it, ‘cause he lets you go, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t smile easily. So you guess you’ll call him that in the bedroom more often.

He sits on the edge of the bed, and you’re almost disappointed, thinking he’s already done with you.

“ Over my lap” he instructs instead “ Now”

You’re kind of confused about what exactly he’s got in mind. But it doesn’t look like a great idea to ask out loud, so you find yourself complying, crawling towards him, legs a bit shaky from the missed orgasm you almost managed to give yourself.

You get within reach of him, not sure how he wants you to position yourself.

“ How do I-”

But you’re cut off again by his hand reaching for your wrist, tugging you forward, and having you stumble upon him, ending up stomach flat against his thighs. You resist the urge to whine in protest, sensing he’s not keen on you speaking up right about now.

You feel the light fabric of your sundress being roughly lifted up your ass, revealing to him your nakedness.

He sits in appreciation of the view in front of him for a few instants, and you’re feeling every nerve-ending on your body standing at attention for what he’s gonna do next.

The first slap makes your heart skip a beat, you hold your breath and close your eyes shut, and somehow you still manage to hold in your cry of pain. It’s sudden and disconcerting, and it kind of feels wrong to stay silent while he takes such liberties with your body, and yet it makes you squirm in your place to feel more.

The stinging that comes from the second one is even better, ‘cause you’ve expected it, and the high that comes next is kind of inebriating to your drunken senses.

Oh God, you’re so down bad for this man you’ll let him treat you like a disobedient child.

With the third one you can’t help yourself, you cry out in pain as the burning sensation gets your insides in a twirl, while the aching between your legs won’t stop growing desperate by the second.

“ I told you couldn’t do it” his voice is hoarse now, the sound of lust tainting it so clearly it only makes you hornier “ Don’t I give you enough pleasure? Enough attention?” he slaps you hard, and yet it’s not hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of your thighs giving you some kind of relief from the tension you’re holding up between your legs “Are you really that needy?”

You muffle a protest, almost crying from how much you feel desperate for him to touch you, but you don’t dare ask.

Luckily it’s like he’s in your mind, ‘cause you feel his hand suddenly stopping from imparting you that sweet punishment, only to make its way between your reddened thighs, finding your liquids covering their insides, and it’s so good to hear a falter of genuine stupor in his voice as he appraises how wet you are from what he’s doing to you “ Fuck, you really are, aren’t you?” he murmurs, and you can almost feel him licking his lips as he comes to touch your hole now, finding it drenched with your juices “ You’re a fucking mess”

You really are. Your liquids are audibly enveloping his fingers as he sinks them deep into you without much effort, your walls sucking him in. You let go of a sigh of pure ecstasy as you finally feel him fill you up as you’ve longed for all day long. It’s not enough, you want his cock balls deep into you, but you don’t think you’re in the position to make any requests right now.

His desire is undeniable at this point, you can feel it poking at your stomach as he starts pumping his fingers into you, so slowly you’re sure he wants to kill you with this fake kindness. Having his erection pressing into you like that is torture too. He must know that’s what you want. Heck, he seems horny enough to give it to you now, and yet he refrains. What is he up to?

“ You’re so fucking spoiled” he comments as his fingers start pumping at a much higher pace, getting to that spot inside of you that he knows how much you like “ Can’t even wait an hour for me to get home, huh?”

You’re so undeniably turned on, and yet some kind of rebellious part of you hates to let him know so blatantly, and has you trying to refrain from making too much noise. But it’s almost impossible. It would be so much easier to say you’re sorry and have him shift back into his normal tender self, but you’re high on this, and it feels like a waste to have it stop right now.

“ What’s this?” he asks, his tone slightly irritated by your sudden attitude, and you have to put all your efforts into stopping yourself from whimpering when his hand slips out of you so suddenly it makes your whole body shiver “ The silent treatment?”

He reaches for your lips with his other hand, the one that’s not covered in your liquids, and he parts them slowly. You’re too slow to realize what he wants to do, and before you know it you’ve got his thumb inside your mouth and the rest of his fingers holding your neck, lifting you from where you lay on top of him, making you look into his dark grey eyes.

“ Apologize now, and I’ll be gentle”

You don’t want gentle. Not anymore. And neither does he. You can see it in his eyes, he’s hungry for more, he just keeps it together better than you ever could.

“ You fon’t- owm’e” your muffled words were meant to sound challenging, but your eyes, you’re sure, they’re begging for him to fuck you, and this facade of yours is practically ridiculous.

You know ‘cause his smirk is chilling, amused by your pathetic attempts at making this interesting, when really, all he wants is for you to beg him to give it to you.

“ We’ll see about that”

He shoves you back down on the mattress, slipping his thumb out of your warm mouth before getting up with his knees pressing down on the bed and going for his belt, and you can’t help your eyes from lingering on his hurried movements as he lowers his pants and boxers just enough that you can see his cock finally popping out, and it’s so hard it’s almost threatening.

You knew he was just as impatient as you were, finding you getting off on your bed with his name probably escaping your lips must’ve been a treat he wasn’t expecting to stumble upon. But seeing it made you even more eager to feel it inside.

He crawls on top of you so that he’s all you can see, but he’s all you can ever see when you’re this horny.

You lunge up towards his lips. He still hasn’t kissed you, and by now it feels natural to want to, but he dodges you, making you almost pout in response.

“ There are no kisses for bad girls”

That’s so unfair you almost give in on the spot, the apology nearly rolling off your tongue so that you can be able to taste his inside of you.

Instead, you start kissing his neck, but he takes you harshly by the throat and presses you hard into the mattress.

Fuck him, he’s playing dirty.

He presses a knee down between yours and has you part your legs so easily it’s freaking frightening. If it weren’t for the fact that he lowered himself upon the skin of your neck, pressing his cock on the center of your cunt you would be complaining to yourself about how much control he has over you. But you like it too much to really care.

He starts kissing your neck slowly, so slowly it feels like torture, and his hips start rutting against your dripping core at the same dangerous pace. He can kill you with all of this, gentle when you want hard fucking and bites and marks to last for days. And yet it’s enough pressure, enough contact to leave you on the edge, enough to feel like crying with frustration. He’s already brought you so close with his hand before, and you almost came on your own before that, you’re practically holding on for dear life at this point.

“ Levi-” you can’t help but sob in his ear, feeling his breath grazing upon your warm skin as he answers you, his voice a delicate purr:

“ Yes?”

“ Please- fuck” you beg, dignity be damned. You’re a whore for this man, who are you even kidding?

“ Please what?” his tip is slowly pushing inside of you, only to slip out again as he teases you, and you think he’s never been so damn cruel to you in bed. It’s intoxicating how much you’re liking it.

“ Please, please, Levi, fuck me” your voice is so distorted by need that it’s practically unrecognizable, and the kind of chuckle that he ghosts upon your skin when he finally decides to stop playing with you would have your blood run cold, wouldn’t it be for the hotness of being surrounded by him with so much desire.

“ As you wish” he only says, before finally sliding his whole length inside of you, one deep thrust and you’re fucking screaming into the void of the room, clinging to his back and begging to the Gods above for it to never stop.

He’s finally fucking you as you wanted, deep thrusts crashing against your aching clit, your juices dripping down on the freshly clean sheets of your bed to create a pool of delicious wetness beneath you two.

He raises, towering over you, and he’s just so damn beautiful that he looks unreal.

“ Apologize” he orders again, this time you can hear the slightest little falter in his voice as he pumps in and out of you without mercy, still holding you down against the mattress by the neck.

Heck no.

You can’t risk this stopping now that you’re finally filled with him, now that you’re so close to getting what you’ve wanted all day.

You find the strength to shake your head no.

You catch a glimpse of indignation glinting in his eyes, something so fleeting it’s gone in an instant, but it’s impossible to feel scared when every single movement of his is sending shivers down your spine, and each thrust against your clit brings you one step closer to fucking paradise.

You’re already so close, and you’re so drunk on pleasure that you’re way past feeling shameful for it. You’re a babbling mess and you just love it.

“ Don’t you dare come” he threatens. His voice rasp, his breaths quicker and you feel something twist inside of you. He can’t do this to you. He can’t play with you like this. It’s simply evil.

“ Please” you whine, your voice a whisper, your eyes teary, his hold on your neck starting to limit the amount of air being able to reach your lungs. You feel like passing out like this would be heaven on earth. But you want to cum first.

He can’t rob you of it, not after all that you’ve let him do to you today. So you’ll come and hope for dear life to be able to refrain yourself from making it obvious.

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, any thrust of his could be the last one, before-

Fuck. He can’t be serious.

He slipped out while you were almost there.

He’s nuzzling his nose against your neck, leaving little bites on your impatient skin as you cry, only able to complain.

“ I know you too well by now, love” he murmurs silently on your skin, his hand on your throat finally coming off, making you able to breathe in properly “ I can feel when you’re close, you can’t fool me”

He raises his silver-grey eyes upon you, and they’re filled with dark intents, so dangerous that your heart skips a beat.

“ Now apologize” his voice is firm, and his tone is so low it almost feels like a threat. This time, you know, if you don’t he’ll walk away on you. And you can’t have it.

“ I’m sorry” you finally give in, tears running down your cheeks, a pathetic mess, desperate to feel your man filling you up with his cum “ I’m sorry, Levi, please”

He sighs as if annoyed by all of this.

“ Will you ever disobey me again?”

“ Never, fuck- I swear” you’re too fast to shake your head no to that, giving him up any control he wanted over you and your body “ I will never touch myself again, I promise, Captain”

Much like the ‘Sir’ you had uttered before, this too sends a proud little sparkle flying in his irises, and at that he falls apart too, kissing your neck violently and sinking inside of you again, revealing himself just as lost in his desire as you are.

“ You’re so hot when you beg me” he chants upon your skin and you shiver as he bites your neck and sucks onto your tender skin, making you moan his name so loud you’re glad you don’t have any neighbors “ I love it, fuck- I love you”

It’s not often that Levi throws those words at you, and any time he does it feels like you’re golden in his hands, like you’re the last meal for a starved man.

His pace has become relentless, and it’s breaking you apart.

You meet his eyes, and this time around there’s no more coldness in them, no more anger or attitude of any kind, his features have softened underneath the burden of pleasure, and his eyes are so full of love it makes you hold your breath and cross your legs around his waist, keeping him so close you can feel his heart beating underneath his chest.

At times like this you can’t believe he’s yours, can’t believe you get to be fucked by the best soldier humanity has ever seen. You’re blessed. So what if you can’t touch yourself? All of this is just so worth it.

“ Can I kiss you now?” you ask, breathless.

He looks down on you with a hint of stupor, as if he were surprised that right now, a step away from your orgasm, you still look for his lips. And then he crashes down upon you, kissing you as if he hadn’t in years, as if there is no one else in the world.

You’re washed over by a sense of ecstasy, it runs throughout your whole body as you chase your relief, and when you finally break apart, you start shuddering against him, crying his name in his mouth, thanking him for everything he’s making you feel.

“ That’s it” you hear him in the background of your pleasure, praising you upon your feverish skin “ my good girl”

And then he kisses you again, this time violent, ravenous.

As you slowly come down from your high a sudden pain makes you realize he’s bit your lip, and by the drops of red staining his mouth when he parts from you you think he’s cut it, his hand clasping around your neck again, his brows furrowed, his eyes upon you.

“ You’re mine, yeah?”

He asks it with a verge of doubt, a vulnerability he rarely grants himself, usually when it concerns you.

It makes your heart ache and you kiss him again, the ferrous taste of your own blood corrupting the delicious one of his lips. You find it astounding that he even feels the need to ask you this, especially after all that has just occurred, the way you’ve let him dispose of you. Whose else would you ever be?

“ Only yours, Levi Ackerman, always”

“ Fuck- I’m so close” he pants.

“ Cum inside of me” you beg him quietly, and he sets you free of the hold on your neck and crashes down on you, slipping his arms under your shoulders and keeping you so close to him he could probably break you.

“ You want it in your pretty pussy, huh?” he asks, his voice croaking with pleasure, it almost breaks from how close he is.

“ Yes, Sir”

That seems to do it, ‘cause he lets out the kind of groan you’ve learned to recognize as he holds you to him, his movements erratic, his breaths hot and heavy against your neck, through your hair. He slams a hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, and you see his face twist deliciously as he’s overcome with pleasure.

“ Fuck” he swears as you feel his hot seed springing into you, filling you up as you’ve longed for, and it’s just perfect. You love feeling him emptying inside of you, it makes you feel fulfilled. It drives you.

He towers above you for a few more instants, his heavy breaths crashing down on you, lips still red from your blood. Then he comes collapsing beside you, still dressed in his uniform, even though some of his buttons have accidentally been undone in the heat of the moment.

You lay silently for a while, the high of passion slowly taming as you both wrap your heads around whatever has just happened. You’re kind of shocked. You honestly did not think you would be into any of what’s just occurred, but he’s just too hot to be denied.

“ Maybe I should try to masturbate more often” you casually throw the words in the silence of the room, hoping to elicit a laugh from him.

Long shot.

“ Don’t you dare” he threatens instead.

[alien-magnolia]

Tainted Love

Fic description: This is a dark fic. 18+ MINORS DNI. Dom!-coded Billy Loomis + hyperfeminine, sub-coded afab reader: they are married, committing crimes together <3 and having a wonderful domestic life <3 besides all the blood and murder. Smut/horror genre: kinks include service!, blood!, knifeplay!, ropes!, choking!, spanking!, free-use!, SERVICE, d/s mental dynamics, majorrrr daddy!kink, exhibitionism

If you like this post, pls engage, comment, reblog! It means so much to me, Ty <3 WC 2.7k

October 10, 1996.

The dark red, yellow, with tinges of brown leaves tumbled down the secluded suburban street. A tan cottage stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, yard neatly trimmed, wind chimes ringing on the porch where they hung. A dim light inside. A black van pulls into the driveway, scaring away a few neighboring birds. The door shuts — a young man enters the house.

——

You were just about finished with tonight’s dinner when your partner came back from college. You loved Billy dearly, and so you did almost everything for him. It was your dynamic — and he loved it as well. You served him, your Billy, your daddy.

How exactly did you get involved with a serial killer? Involved far enough to be an equal partner in his crimes? Involved enough to be so cautious and excellent at keeping first-degree murder a secret? Involved enough to live with him?

—-

It began last fall. A chilly November morning, fog rolling in on the campus. You walked in your pretty pink outfit, donning lace and frills, kitten heels, and butterfly hair clips. You were only nineteen. Young. Innocent. You were looking for your ‘Introduction to Early Modern Literature’ class, yet happened to wander over on the other, more secluded side of campus. You stumble over a rock on the sidewalk. You fall, beautiful rosy cheek now stained with a gash of bright, red blood.

Your hands, your knees, cut up from the bumpy pavement. You start crying. This was just too embarrassing!! With your social anxiety and shyness, you really hoped nobody had seen this. You did not like to be perceived by people — that is just how you were. You look around — not a soul to be seen.

Except for a man — lean, sitting on a brick bench, cigarette in hand. You couldn’t make out how he looked, yet fear overtook you as he started making his way over. You start to scramble up, hoping to run away from him, yet your bruises were just too intense for you to do so.

His deep voice asks you, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay? You nod. “Yeah jus’ a few scratches. Can’t see too well in the fog,” you sheepishly explain. “Hey, no worries. Here, I’ll help you up, yeah?” You oblige, taking his big calloused hands in yours as he helps you stand. You finally get a good look at him. God — he was handsome. More than handsome. Extremely, extremely, attractive. You got wet just by looking at his deep brown eyes and crooked smile looking down at you.

“Hey. Don’t be too shy, hun. Come. Want me to help you fix those bruises? There’s a bathroom right around the corner, he suggests. You nod silently, agreeing, following him to a door on the left.

He begins wiping your bruises with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses. You see more of him now. He wears all black. Smells like cigarettes and a dusty old basement. “So what brings you to this part of campus?,” he asks, brown eyes focused on your bruises.

“Just got lost. Needed to find one class but couldn’t. Maybe I’ll skip today anyway…,” you trail off. “Aw. Today’s your first day huh?,” he coos at you, with a smile you just couldn’t figure out. “Um. Yes. I don’t really know the campus, so…,” you quietly answer him, afraid to look into his eyes. His voice, his face, it all made you thirst for him even more.

“I could tell. Hey. Maybe you should skip. Been looking for someone to hang out with,” he suggests, finishing up cleaning your bruises, putting a few bandaids on you. “I’m Billy, by the way.” You introduce yourself to him, a little smile forming on your face. You ended up skipping class that day, spending time with him in that secluded courtyard, smoking cigarettes, listening to The Smiths. You ended up fucking in the bathroom a few hours later. You knew that you were indubitably attracted — glued to him and everything that he was. Something did feel a little off about how he treated others — you did not care.

So it was.

——

~Present day ~

You hear the keys jingle in the doorway, heavy boots make their way towards the kitchen, where you were. You currently donned a short little black dress, fishnets, with nothing underneath. You were waiting for him.

“Hey, sweets. Looking good today,” he compliments you, as he takes your small hand in his, moving you closer to him, wrapping a hand around your waist. You giggle as he peppers your cheek with kisses. “Sweetie. Want’a ask you something,” he insists, quietly, yet confidently. Your big eyelashes blink as you wait for his question.

“Wanna play with me tonight?,” a sinister smile adorns his face, his brown eyes filled with a hint of malice, excitement. Your eyes match his. You loved playing with him, your sessions, where you gave over complete control of yourself, to him. You trusted him completely. He led, you followed.

You were his. His prey, his little girl, his accomplice. You were his, devoted completely, mind and body. The two of you even had matching tattoos: a forever symbol of your unique relationship.

“Yes, daddy. What first?” He chuckles lowly. “Glad you asked, princess. We’re going to the van.” You smile back at him, as he gives you a kiss, pulling you closer to him by your neck. You knew what to do, sticking your hands out, as he takes a rope from the nearby drawer.

The rope felt nice around your wrists, you liked to watch him tie it. You didn’t want your freedom when you played with him. “Daddy’s girl, all tied up, huh? Come sweets. Let’s go to the van,” he sneers at you in the best possible way, as he leads you outside. Still, he manages to grab a coat for you, alongside some knives. You suspected that both of you will be using those later.

“Before we leave our house, thought we might have a bit of fun in the van, what’dya say? I think it’ll be nice for my little girl, yeah?,” he croons at you, caressing your cheek, before gripping it harshly, brown eyes boring into yours.

You’re on your knees for him in his dingy van. His waffle knit white t-shirt feels nice on your bound hands, as you see him start to unbuckle his belt, dropping his jeans to the floor of the van. “Give daddy’s cock some love, hun,” you hear, and his strong arms work to push you down to the floor. You look up at him from your back, you see him towering over you, cock in his calloused hand, slowly rubbing it. He lowers his cock and balls onto your face, you love the feeling of his heavy ball sack on your chin. His cock was wide, not too long, yet wide, weeping, with three beautiful veins and a beauty mark <3

It was all red and ready for your wet throat. You took him eagerly, sucking so much pressure, you felt his silky smooth voice moan out in ecstasy. You keep sucking, swirling your tongue around the mushroom tip of his cockhead. He pulls a knife to the side of your cheek. You stop.

“Look what daddy’s got here hun. You don’t like this little toy, do you?,” he taunts. With that, he lowers the knife to your chest, where he makes a gentle cut on it. He liked to cut you with his knife. Another way to possess you, to mark you as HIS.

“Get up, sweets. Daddy’s gonna cum if you keep this shit up.” He chuckles, and helps you up, wiping that little cut he made with a towel. That same towel now goes in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

His hands tightly grip your hips, pushing you down onto the floor of the van again. Hips spread, gagged, hands still tied, you felt his finger swipe across your clit, down your labia, trailing over your wet, wet, pussy. Your hole was clenching around nothing!! He was going to fix that.

“Aww. Look at you , sweetie. Cheeks all rosy, ass up for me, ready to be bred,” he taunts. You only moan in response. “Does daddy’s little girl want to be bred, hmm? Like a little cow?” You moan in response, he tuts, and lifts your neck up gently. “What was that?,” voice low. Shit. You fucked up.

“Yes, daddy,” your voice is muffled through the gag. He smiles again, that dark smile of his. Sinister. Evil. Exactly what you wanted to see. Without warning, you feel him push into you. Wide, throbbing, filling that sweet spot exactly how you wanted. He went slow for just a little, relishing how good his little girl, his breeding cow, dumpster, was for him. Then he went fast. Too fast. You loved hearing the sound of his cock and balls slap against your ass, your squelching pussy <3

You feel so full of him, you saw stars as his wife cock drilled deeper and deeper into you. You felt him twitch inside, your favorite part!! “Take my cum, baby. Fuckin’ take it,” you hear him grunt, as his hands press your body down into a mating press, his stomach now on top of your back. He had you caged in, tied, gagged, absolutely abusing you on his wide cock. You were in heaven. You were his now, in this moment. The both of you came, and of course, he did not let you squeeze his cum out of you.

“Keep it in, hmm? Want our visitors to know that you’re daddy’s girl.” You nod and smile, making grabby hands at him once he unties your wrists, and takes the towel out of your mouth. He lifts you up into his lap, peppering your face with kisses, smiling up at you as you giggle.

He helps you get dressed, gently cooing at you as you show him the carpet burn you got from being on your knees for so long. He kisses it to make it better <3 and even puts on your white frilly socks for you, helping you with your little black kitten heels and your dress.

“Where to next, daddy?,” you giddily await his answer. “Now, we drive. To meet our special guests for tonight,” he replies, your smile now matching his level of sinister. The both of you were about to go have some fun, with some unconventional guests as well.

——-/

It was now almost midnight. After your play session in the van, you couldn’t wait to play in front of your guests!! The both of you listen to heavy metal as Billy speeds down an abandoned road, the rotting leaves blowing towards the sides from the van passing by on the road. He pulls his van up a few meters close to the woods, and parks.

“Coat, baby.” You nod, and he puts your black puffer on. He leads you to the backseat, where a black trunk with a lock is placed. He opens it. His mask. Ghostface. He puts it on his hip, putting on black clothes over his nice ones. He gives you gloves, and a knife. One for himself as well. Binoculars.

“Come, hun. This way.” You follow him up into a tree, where the both of you take turns with your binoculars. He takes out his block of a phone. How you loved the 90’s. He dials the number, telling you to watch their reaction in the windows. “Hi. What’s your favorite scary movie,” Billy's voice drawls out to his unsuspecting victims in the mansion that you were currently hiding outside of.

Billy continued to harass them on the phone, beckoning you down the tree quietly, and closer and closer to the person’s backyard. Billy stays on the phone, pointing at you to stay put, and opens the window on the first floor. You wait outside, as he slips on in.

You knew what to do. You’d wait for his signal, then follow him in. Then, came your favorite part: where Billy shows you off to his victims <3

You see his hand signal through the window. You step on inside, and see the couple tied to each other, this time with metal chains. Billy is wearing his mask. “Just in time for the show, sweetheart. Kneel.”

You do as said, loving the absolutely sadistic smile on his face right now. He puts on your leash ( only for when in front of un-consenting others) and has to crawl to sit at his knees. “You see here, my two pretties, you two are going to watch me fuck my little princess here. After that, I’ll decide if you get to live,” he chuckles in absolute glee.

“By the way, if you two decide to make a sound, or go at my little girl here, I’ll stab ya. Sounds good? My, my, what a perfect, scary movie,” he narrates to himself, to you, to the two victims, who looked like they were about to mentally lose it. <3

He skips with the foreplay, the blowjob, the fingering. He gets right to it. He wants his victims to see his pretty girl, on his own terms. He roughly pushes you down onto the floor, strong hands positioning your hips in place, giving your ass a few harsh spanks <3 you hear the belt buckle slip, and soon enough, you can feel the warmth of his already hard cock near your puffy pussy.

Your eyes are drawn to the couple. You loved being shown off, being watched. They did not want to watch you. But that is okay. Billy is going to make them. :)

They watch in horror as he starts rutting into you like a beast, bloody knife that he used on one of the victims nearing your neck, staying there. The knife soon drops, he gives it to you to hold as he starts losing control. You were too, feeling so full of him, getting an extra serving of his cum :) was your favorite thing to do.

You smiled as the couple looked on in horror. Billy pulled out just the last second before, and came all over your face. “Look so pretty with my cum all over your face, sweet girl. Clean it up f’me, yeah?” You nod.

After you wipe it off, Billy steps back in front of the two victims. “See how nicely I treat my girl? I’m her daddy, after all. Just wanted to show her to you. She’s mine, forever will be. What a nice show the two of you got,” he chuckles, before stabbing one of them, the screams could be heard from down the block.

Billy finished off the other one, not before giving her a good slap and punch. <3 The pool of blood covers the entire kitchen tiling, making it seem red everywhere. It’s on your shoes, on Billy’s. He takes his mask off, and picks you up in his arms.

“Did so good f’me today, sweet girl. So proud of you,” he praises you. “You did good too, Billy. I love how rough you are with them.” He smiles again, giving you a tender kiss. “Let’s leave, huh? Go back home, watch a scary movie?,” he asks. You nod, staying still in his arms as he carries you over the blood, and back out to the woods.

The two of you make it back to the van. They won’t catch you. As long as you’re together, everything was just fine.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

And all that I have

Part 8 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series

Warnings: Smut (18+), cockwarming, conversations about CNC (consensual non-consent) play, kink discussions, talks about non-consensual kinks, toxic relationship, conversations about burglary, insecurities, angst, obsession with reader, mild body insecurity. Charred the dove and the dove kinda liked it.

Disclaimer: I want to be clear that although the conversations are centred around non-consent, the entire thing is completely consensual, if reader was uncomfortable, the conversation would stop. They are discussing a scene they plan to do in the future, so be warned that this will come up later in this series.

You loved him.

You knew it now, without a doubt.

You’re gazing at him from your spot at your desk, peeking over your laptop so that it’s not obvious to him that you’re staring.

You watch him scratch at his eyebrow, deep in thought as he reads the report on his desk. You feel your stomach flip as he squints for a second, no doubt reading something he disagrees with on the page.

He runs the backs of his fingers over his cheek, scratching at his beard, deep in thought, unaware that just a little distance away, you’re admiring him with every piece of your heart.

Whatever  you had felt for anyone else before was nothing compared to what you were feeling for him right now. Your relationship with Dominic had been nothing but a shell, hollow, it had been filled with moments of self- doubt, separated by spaces of indifference that you’d tried to convince yourself was happiness. But it wasn’t, it wasn’t contentment or satisfaction or delight. Being with Dominic had been nothing but a mediocre meal when you were starving, only perceived as amazing because you were unfed.

Now, with Billy, you knew what it was like to really feel.

“Billy.” You say softly, watching him blink and raise his head. He gives you a tired smile.

“Yeah?”

“I’m bored.”

The corner of his lip twitches before it pulls up into a smile.

He looks down at his report before looking back up at you. 

“Feeling for anything in particular?”

You study him for a moment, before closing your eyes.

“It’s been two weeks since we last had sex-”

“Two weeks and six days…” He pauses when you open your eyes to look at him curiously, “...To be exact, but,” He clears his throat, “who’s counting?”

You can’t help planting your face in your hands and letting out a little laugh.

“Fine, it’s been two weeks and six days, and there’s still about a week left before we can- and I really want a distraction from it.”

He swallows, nodding eagerly, in full agreement with your words.

“I get it," Billy agrees, and you watch him drop his papers onto the desk with a decisive thump, "It's been actual hell to not be able to follow through with any of the things I want to do to you."

You give him an amused raise of your eyebrows, a slow feeling of delight spreading in your abdomen. You take a slow breath to help ease the feeling.

“Well, that didn’t help distract me, just made me want you more.”

The look on his face is one of pure mischief.

“Oops.” Is his only response.

You blink at his audacity.

“You know,” You say, pushing yourself to a stand, “You really shouldn’t tease, there’s no chance of you winning this.” You advise, moving toward him. You don’t stop till you’re leaning against his desk. 

You take your time, moving his phone and staple remover out of the way, and when it’s just papers, you lie down on his desk, smiling proudly as you turn to face him.

The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches his teeth, eyes skimming your body as you lie on his desk, knees bent for comfort. After a moment, the pins in your hair begin to stick your scalp and you grunt as you unpin your hair and let it splay across his reports.

“Everytime you tease me, I play this game in my head where I come up with payback.” He says, eyes fixed on you, “At the rate you’re going, you’re not gonna be able to walk after.”

You smile at him, your only response is to raise one hand, and undo the top button of your shirt.

His eyes follow the movement. 

“I doubt,” You hum undoing another button, “That you’d be able to last long after four weeks of no sex.”

“Maybe not.” He sighs, “But I’ll find a way.”

When you reach for a third button, his hand reaches up to cover yours.

"Mercy." He whispers finally, "You're pretty, and I want you and I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Poor baby." You tease.

He grunts out a laugh, closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"God, you're really in for it when I’m fully healed."

“What am I in for?” You tease, tugging your shirt open as wide as possible.

He looks up, as if asking a higher being for his sanity back.

“You really wanna know? It might scare you.”

“God I hope it does.”

He groans, low in the back of his throat.

“Alright. I’ll tell you.” He looks down at you again, the back of his fingers tracing over your cheek softly.

You smile, closing your eyes as he touches you softly.

“I want to tie you to our bed, and use you whenever I want. I want to leave that sweet little cunt dripping with my come.”

He lets out a soft sigh, his thumb tracing over your lips gently.

“I want to… rent a cabin in the woods, and chase you, make you run, play with you and when I catch you- I want to make you regret running.”

You swallow, excitement swells like a wave within you.

“I’d love that.” You confess to him softly, “Make me regret running from you, sir.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his eyes a hue of darkness you’ve never seen before.

His fingers slip down your chin, tracing its way over your jaw.

“I didn’t expect you to be so… open about this.”

Maybe I'm just right for you, you think helplessly.

You smile up at him.

“I’ve always wanted to explore that side of myself, but Nic wasn’t very accommodating, so I hid those desires from him. But I’ve… I've wanted to be touched the ways you want to touch me for a long time.”

You think about the last time you’s asked Dominic to choke you- he’d done it so poorly, despite the way it had intensified your orgasm, and then he’d never done it again, it was like he wasn’t willing to learn what really got you off, so why would you ever try to push him further, or ask him for more?

Billy grips your jaw tightly, pulling you back into the present, into his dark, hungry eyes.

“Let’s come up with something, that we can,” His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip eagerly, “do together.”

You feel a smile creep onto your face.

“Of course, Mister Russo.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours softly, contradicting the rough implications of his words.

“Come sit on my lap.” He offers when he finally breaks from the kiss, and you nod easily, rising from his desk, giggling when you feel some papers stick to your arms. He helps you remove them, and then guides you into sitting on his lap, your legs being tossed over one of the arms of his chair.

“Will this even hold us?” You ask, resting your cheek against his chest.

He wraps an arm around you, humming an affirmative.

“Am I hurting you?” You check next, worried.

“Not at all, Mrs. Russo.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, “Now, tell me about your limits.”

You smile, looking down, playing with your fingers.

“I’m not that into anal, or hitting. Those are hard limits. I like being spanked.”

Billy hums in acknowledgement, his arm on your knee to keep you steady.

“What about slapping?”

You feel your insides clench.

You shake your head, looking up at him.

He smiles, the hand on your knee moving up to cup your cheek.

“So you like small amounts of pain? But nothing harder than a spank?”

“Yeah.” you answer, breathless at the conversation. No one had ever made you feel this comfortable and safe talking about topics like this.

“I like being scared.” You offer up, “I wanna be scared into acting like a good girl.”

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“God you’re so fucking hot.”

You giggle in disbelief.

“What about pet names? I know you like the nice ones, but what about degrading ones?”

“I like ‘slut,’” You offer, “But not ‘bitch’ or ‘whore.’”

You groan when a thought pops into your mind.

“Literally, I think calling me your little plaything would make me see stars.”

His laugh is deep and alluring.

“What about you?” You ask, desperate to hear him affirm your desires with his own, “Tell me some things you like.”

“The idea of forced breeding is nice,” He starts, and you nod eagerly, already obsessed with that idea, held down and made to take his cum, being teased about having his kids. It makes your skin flush with heat.

“I have- uhhhhh-” He hesitates, and you adjust yourself to watch him carefully.

“Sorry, fuck, it’s embarrassing to say.” He mutters, and you realise that maybe he needs some reassurance.

You raise your hand, cupping his cheek, loving the feel of his coarse beard against your hand. You trail lower, fingers caressing his neck, before you try to slip your fingers under the collar of his button up shirt.

“You can literally tell me anything. I won’t run, I promise.”

He goes still, looking up at you, something unnameable in his eyes. After a moment, he blinks, looking down.

“I have a little fantasy about being a thief, maybe you have something valuable I want. Maybe it’s not what you think it is.”

You swallow, nodding your head eagerly, thinking about what it would be like to find him rifling through your home, touching things that weren't his to touch. You think about the way he’d grab you, about the way he’d lean in to kiss you harshly, the way he’d rip at your clothes-

“T-that’s a nice idea.” You whisper hoarsely. 

You think about him all masked up and taking you on the floor of your home. You shift a little in discomfort caused by your definite arousal.

“I can't- I really need to be inside you.” He rushes out.

“Couch?” You offer, and then you slip off of his lap when he nods.

While he settles himself, you reach up under your skirt, pulling your panties down the length of your legs, smiling when you catch him staring at you.

You carefully climb onto him, reaching to undo his belt, the sound of it making you more and more aroused. 

“You're so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, and you glance up at him feeling a little shy under his obsidian gaze.

“Thanks.” You whisper, your voice so soft that you barely hear it.

The back of his hand traces your cheek.

“Do you need help?” He asks, and you manage to be amused at the question, considering how absolutely wet you were between your thighs.

You shake your head, clenching when you finally get his cock free, giving him a few gentle strokes that has him groaning and dropping his head back.

He's so big, heavy in your hand, you love the slight curve of him, the wideness.

“Ready?” You ask, and he raises his head to look at you.

“If you are.” He says, voice pained.

You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips before raising your hips to guide his thick cock to your entrance.

His head falls back again, his breathing shallow as he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling.

When you start slowly sinking down on him, you watch him suck in a deep breath, his hands gripping harshly at the couch.

“You're so wet, sweetheart. Fuck.” Billy exclaims, finally able to look at you once more.

You clench around him, your prolonged denial in support of his, claws at the walls inside your mind.

You feel a pinch of pain, the size of him stretching you open but you pay it no mind, your wetness makes taking him in so much easier.

Your eyelids flutter as you sink down onto him fully, you bite your lip harshly when the head of his cock presses firmly to your cervix.

“Oh my god.” You groan, panting, unable to comprehend the world around you with his cock so deep within you.

Before him, you weren't so desperate. You could usually go a month without sex without any problem at all, now though, Billy made lasting four weeks the biggest challenge.

He stays perfectly still, But you can't help yourself, making micromovements on his cock, rolling your hips a little just so you can feel something more.

“Princess.” He warns, and then groans loudly when he feels you clench hard around him in response. He loses himself for a moment, rolling his hips into you, before he grits his teeth, stopping his motions.

“You've never called me that one before.” You purr, trying to distract him while keep your body still.

His hands grip your thighs, blunt fingers pressing into your skin, sliding up to grip your ass harshly.

“It's cause I've got you so spoiled right now.” He hisses, "Couldn't tell you no if I wanted to.”

It makes you clench down on his cock a second time. You watch your own desperation mirror itself in his expression.

“You're so big, Mister Russo.” You moan, gripping his shoulders to keep your body steady.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, to relax the vise grip your cunt has around his stiff erection.

Billy has always thought of himself as a man with great strength, but it's in this very moment, he learns precisely how weak he is. Watching his gorgeous, breathtaking wife, try her best to sit still on his cock, brings out a darkness in him, gives him ideas of what exactly he's going to do the moment he can.

No woman has ever felt as good as you, and he knows no woman ever will.

You're having your own debate in your head at the same time, wondering how you're going to last another week without him fucking you into oblivion.

“Tell me what you want to do to me.” You plead, eyes squeezed shut to hide from him.

He doesn't speak for a moment, the only sound filling the room is both of your laboured breaths.

“I want to see you submit to me completely.”

You squeeze your eyes tighter, nodding.

I want that too.

“And I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes, I want to fuck you until you're just my messy pile of wife, no brain at all.”

You whine, a low sound in the back of your throat, you can almost taste the pleasure on your tongue as if it’s something physical.

You roll your hips, feeling him inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass tightens.

Your eyes meet his, half lidded, panting and desperate as you gaze at one another, you know that it wouldn't take much to get you off, and you're trying your hardest not to, you really really want to support him this way.

It makes you a true mess, aroused beyond thought. You can see it in his eyes too, delirious yearning looking right back at you.

“What else?” You ask, needing to know the exact ways he wanted to unravel you.

He licks his bottom lip.

“I wanna fill you up, watch my come drip right out of you with the number of times I come inside you.”

“Yeah? M-maybe you can… use a plug if you get tired of watching your cum drip out.”

The sound he makes next is nothing short of a gowl, pulling you closer until your noses brush, You swear there's a fire in his eyes that you've never seen before.

“I can't stop picturing it,” he whispers roughly, one hand leaving your ass, trailing around to your front. You cry out when the tips of his fingers press to your aching clit, “The way you'll look when I'm done with you, passed out of course, my come messy between your thighs, I'll ask you if you're okay and you wouldn't be able to do anything more than make a little sound.” You tilt your head to the side when his finger begins rubbing softly at your swollen bud, he doesn't take kindly to the movement, his other hand reaching to grip the back of your head, forcing you back to him, “Maybe I'd keep fucking you. Even when you're out cold I could still fill you. You'd be so far gone you wouldn't even want me to stop.”

You nod, whining, knowing that you'd let him do anything he wanted so long as he was doing it to you.

“I know how that makes me look- I've been so ashamed of this side of me, but I want this, every little bit of it, and I want you.” You confess.

“There's nothing wrong with you I promise.” He says, leaning in to kiss you softly, his fingers speeding up their touch on your clit.

You gasp into his mouth.

“S-stop or I'll-” You find that the words evaporate on your tongue.

“You'll what, little wife? Come around my cock? Don't you want to?”

You shake your head violently.

“Not if you can't. Don't make me.”

He drags his fingers away, and you sigh in relief despite the way your body burns, aching for you to just take the edge off.

He kisses you again, harsh and all-consuming, you hum happily, trying to return his passion with a little of your own.

“No more.” He says, and you nod, rising from his cock, your cunt clenching as you get free of him, registering the emptiness, before you feel disappointment immediately follow.

He reaches down, grunting as he wraps his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing in what you can only assume is a method to avoid orgasm.

He’s beautiful, the way his skin is so flushed and his breaths are shallow and you think it’s mostly because of you, and you wonder why on earth would someone like him ever-

You swallow nervously, looking away.

You don’t want to ask, exhausted with your own insecurities to voice them.

Luckily you don’t have to, because at the same time, your cell on your desk starts ringing.

You turn to it, standing, adjusting your skirt before taking the few steps to it. You sigh internally when you see it’s your mother calling.

“Hey mom.” You greet softly.

“Hello. I’ve been sending so many messages. Why haven’t you responded? I thought you were dead.”

You try to hold it in but a laugh comes out against better judgement.

“Dead? Really? Wouldn’t someone have given you a call?”

“Who? Who’s going to call me if you die? Dominic? Your friends? This mysterious husband I have never met that might be the person doing the killing?”

“Why was murder the first thing you thought of?” Humour dripping from your voice.

“Because you’re living with a random stranger and I’m very worried.”

You let out a slow breath.

“I get it mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reply to your messages, I’ve been trying to take care of Billy.”

After a moment, you swear you can hear the anger leave her over the phone.

“Okay well… how is he?”

You feel like you've won something.

“He's doing great, recovering well, that's what the doctor said, a few more weeks and he'll be recovered.”

“That's good to hear. When am I meeting him?”

“Soon.” You promise.

“That's fine. I also have something I want send to you. Can you give me your new mailing address?”

“Yeah, no problem, I'll message it to you.”

She's silent for a long time, and you know she's thinking about saying something terrible to you. You tilt your head back in frustration.

“Mom? You still there?” You ask politely.

“Are you doing okay? Dominic said you gained some weight.”

Your mouth parts in surprise.

“Why are you still talking to him?” You ask in disbelief, looking down at your body automatically. Why did everyone care so much about the way you looked?

“I called him. I wanted to hear his side of the story and to hear more about this Billy guy.”

You stiffen, realising that Billy was still in the room somewhere overhearing this conversation.

“Tell me that you didn't believe a word he said.” You beg.

“Some of it was definitely a lie, I remember when you'd called to tell me you'd broken up, that sounded genuine. I don't think you actually cheated on him, and I know you well enough to know that gold digging isn't your style.”

You smile, “Thank you.”

“But,” she continues, “One thing that confuses me is the custom rings. How did those happen?”

“Um,” you squeeze Your eyes shut, shaking your head, “We um,” Fuck, you didn't know what to say, “We had them made the day after.” You lie.

“Why? Why a stranger? Wouldn't you have tried to get the marriage annulled first?”

Shit.

“Um, we tried and then decided not to on the same day. Hey mom? I gotta go, my next meeting arrived early.”

“Okay, cupcake, talk to you soon.”

“Yeah,” you say with a shaky voice, “Bye, love you.”

You hang up before you can hear her parting words.

You stare at your phone, forgetting how to breathe for a long moment.

When he says your name, you turn quickly, looking at him. You finally find the strength to take in a breath.

“I'm fine. I just need a minute, be right back.” You rush out, walking out the room without a second thought.

You press your hand to the wall outside, taking a few deep breaths. You wanted to hide, to stop being perceived at all.

You glance at Martha, sitting at her desk, typing into her computer. When she senses you looking, she turns her head with a smile.

“Are you doing alright, Mrs. Russo? Do you want me to get you some water?”

Mrs. Russo. That was you.

You straighten.

“I'm okay, thank you though.” You say with a smile, turning in the direction of the elevators.

You press the button for his floor when you're inside, and only after you shift your feet impatiently, do you realize that you're not wearing any panties.

It gives you more confidence if anything, you were just sitting on your husband's cock, and he'd asked you to. He'd called you beautiful, he'd wanted you. 

You squeeze your hands into fists, Dominic would not take him from you.

He’s in a meeting, his receptionist says to you, apology in her voice, and when you inquire with who, you find out that it’s just his boss.

You give her a smile, before walking right past her desk and knocking on his door.

You open it without waiting for a response, a smile on your face when you see both men looking at you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but can I please have a moment to speak with Dominic? It’s urgent.”

Both men glance at each other, and you know that his boss would not deny you your request.

“Of course,” The man says, rising from his chair, “We’ll pick this up later.”

Dominic only nods, his face set into harsh lines.

The door closes behind him softly, and you don’t speak for a moment, studying the landscape picture on his wall.

“That day we broke up,” You declare, not turning to look at him yet, “You told me that I wasn’t as pretty as some of your old girlfriends, you told me my laugh was irritating, that my friends annoyed you. You gave me reason upon reason as to why you didn’t like me and why we weren’t a good match, and I’d sat there and apologised to you.”

“Look,” He interjects, “I’m sorry I was so harsh-”

“-I’m not done.” You interrupt, turning to look at him, showing him that there was nothing between you anymore, that he could look into your eyes all he wanted, he would not find the version of you he once knew.

He lets out a breath, raising his eyebrows to seem amused by your intervention. 

You didn't care.

“I can’t believe I ever did that, apologise to you for not being what you wanted. If I could go back, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

He blinks, stiffening his shoulders.

“And then, you come back, assuming that I’d forgive you for the shit you said, and get back together with you. But I was never going to, marriage or not, I’d rather be alone forever than spend another minute with you.”

“So stop trying to mess with me, stop trying to destroy my life over something that happened after you broke up with me. You can’t hurt me anymore, and if you try to, I’ll show you exactly what I’m made of.”

You turn to the door, reaching for the handle.

“I love you.” He blurts, making you freeze in place.

You can’t help it, laughing softly at his admission.

You pull his door open, a smile still on your face as you glance back at him.

“You don’t even know the meaning of the word.” 

.

“Where’d you go?” Billy asks when he sees you come in a few minutes later.

“To give some closure.” You say with a smile, approaching him, cupping his face in your hands, and leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.

You feel him relax under you, you hum softly at the feeling of it.

“Are you in any pain?”

“A little,” He confesses, “I might have pushed myself a little too much.”

Your eyebrows draw together, worried that you might have hurt him.

“I’m sorry, my full weight-”

“-was perfect. It was the tensing up when I got too close to coming that caused the strain.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, one hand pressing to your tummy.

“Why do you even like me?” You rush out, in disbelief that you were literally making power moves just now, to come back to him with your insecurities.

Maybe power was exhausting to hold on to for you.

“Because I do.” He says softly, with an encouraging tone of voice, “Because you see me.” He’s quiet for a moment, biting the edge of his lip in deep thought. 

“Growing up in the system was bad, it was real shitty. I don't think I’ll ever truly recover from the abandonment. I pretend I’m okay, and I pretend that I’m whole but,” He shakes his head, “I’m just pieces on the inside. Broken glass.”

“You make me feel like something more. A mosaic.” He utters, as if the word has just come to mind.

You take in a deep breath, your face contorted into one of sorrow.

I love you, Billy Russo.

You simper, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Let’s go home.” You suggest.

He’s nodding before you can even get the sentence out.

.

The hardest thing is keeping your hands to yourself. You want to touch him all the time, run your fingers through his hair, slide your hands under his t-shirt, gently trace the veins on the back of his hands. You want to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows and taste his collarbones and you try your best to resist for a couple of reasons.

The first reason is that you don’t want to get him hard- you don’t want to torment him any more than he’s already being tormented. The second reason is because you worry he’ll eventually get annoyed with your insistent touching, that he may find it irritating eventually. The smallest hint that he’s getting annoyed with you might be enough to dissolve you into thin air, you don’t think you’d ever recover from it.

So sometimes you find yourself reaching for him, only to draw back at the last second, hoping he doesn���t see how hard you’re fighting yourself.

You should be more open about it- you know that- he tries so hard to open up to you and the least you can do is respond with the same effort.

And yet, your experience with Dominic lingers. 

You and him had been so good at one point too, and the next thing you know, every aspect of you had irritated him.

How long would it take before Billy felt that way too?

This was bad, you had no support system in place, no one to talk to aside from him, no one to tell you that your thoughts were unreasonable. This, this was why staying with him wasn’t sustainable.

You’re lying motionless in the bath when he finds you after excusing himself to take a work call.

You turn when you catch movement, smiling up at him when he approaches. He’s got an apologetic look on his face, one that tells you that he has to leave you alone before he even says it.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes, coming to sit on the edge of the tub, “There’s an issue with our servers and I have to go.”

“It’s 8 p.m.” You state, “You can’t do this tomorrow?”

He shakes his head.

“Some of our guys are at risk without the intel.”

You take a deep breath, giving him your easiest smile. You wanted to fight, but maybe in this moment you didn’t know if you were capable of winning.

“Alright, Billy, I’ll see you later.”

He leans in, kisses the top of your head, then your cheek, and then tilts your head up for a quick kiss.

He leaves the room, and you hear him grab his things before the front door closes.

You close your eyes, letting your body sink below the surface of the water.

.

You sneak out maybe an hour later.

You wait by the door till the guard stationed there gets up to use the bathroom, and then you slip out in your fluffiest coat, making it to the elevator right outside with your heart slamming into your ribs.

Only after the doors close do you realise that you don’t have anything to help you get back inside, and that you should have maybe left a note. No worries though, you know Billy will call once he gets home and finds you gone.

You’d called Martha earlier, and begged her to find the address you were looking for, apologetic for disturbing her evening.

You take a taxi there, and you knock on the door softly once, in the cold air, before realising that you hadn’t knocked loudly enough.

The second time you knock, you hear footsteps, and you suck a deep breath in, smiling at the peephole before you hear the door unlock.

Maria looks concerned, her lovely brunette hair pulled over one shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She says with worry heavy in her tone.

You try to give her a cheerful expression.

“I’m great, I was just a little lonely, Billy left a while ago.”

She opens the door wider to let you in.

“Yeah, Frank left too.”

“I figured,” You admit, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind some extra company?”

“Of course! I’m just cleaning up. You can hang your coat over there.” She says, pointing to a place behind you.

You thank her, shedding your coat with minimal difficulty and hanging it on the spot she had pointed to.

You follow her into the kitchen, where she’s mostly done with her dishes, only a few left to dry.

“Can I help?” You offer.

“No, thank you, I’m almost done. I have some leftovers if you want. Chicken parm, or do you want tea or coffee or something?”

You’re a little shy in her presence, trying to pick something easy so that she doesn’t insist.

“Water, for now, though I might pick at your teas later.” You say politely.

She smiles, and you feel so soothed by it, you find yourself smiling back. Not long after, she places a glass of water in front of you. You thank her again, sipping on it gratefully.

“So,” She starts off easily, looking over her shoulder to glance at you while she wipes a pink plate dry, “What brings you here at this hour?” 

God, you wanted to tell her the truth, fold like a stack of cards because you didn’t think you could lie to her. For once, you wanted to be honest about your situation.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that to her, and you definitely couldn’t do that to Billy. You’d ruin their friendship if you said anything, you’d ruin his relationship with Frank, he’d hate you for it.

You let out a pained breath.

“All my friends kind of hate me.” You murmur, deep in thought, “and you don’t seem like you’d hate me.”

She nods in understanding.

“Why don’t you tell me everything?” She says easily, and you nod, willing to try.

“My ex- Dominic- we’d been together for two years before we broke up. He works at Anvil, and for a long time I thought I was going to spend forever with him.” You look down into the glass of water, studying the stillness.

“Looking back at it now, I realise how wrong we were together. He never really liked me, I was just a convenience, he only kept me around because it was better than being alone, you know? We took care of each other at first, but somewhere along the way he stopped caring and then any little thing I did pissed him off.”

You watch her finish one plate, reaching for another.

“Our breakup was really brutal, he literally just picked me apart and left me outside my apartment, and then three days later I woke up married to Billy.”

“And you think,” She says, interrupting your thoughts, “That this one is going to end up like your last one.”

“Isn’t it?” 

She smiles, shaking her head.

“You wanna know how long I knew Frank before we got married?”

“A reasonable amount of time?” You offer.

She laughs.

“Four months.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“I’m in no place to judge.”

She grins.

“I got pregnant three months into dating him, and we were married a month later. The first time I met Billy, was stepping on him when I woke up to pee in the middle of the night.” Her shoulders shake as she laughs, remembering the entire story.

“According to Frank, he’d climbed into our small apartment at the time from the fire escape, drunk off his ass, and crashed on the floor before Frank could help him to the couch in the living room. The way Frank says it, he just tossed a sheet over Billy, and stuffed a pillow under his head where he passed out and went back to sleep. I woke up, and stepped on him and he didn’t make a sound,” She laughs,” I screamed though, because there was a random man on the floor and I’d just put my full weight on his leg and he hadn’t made a sound. I thought he was dead.” 

You try not to grin at the imagery.

“After some convincing from Frank, I fell asleep, and in the morning both men were gone. Billy… well he didn’t like me at first. He was sure I’d trapped his friend in the marriage or something, but over time, he… honestly he didn’t really warm up to me until I went into labour.”

You sit there, transfixed by her story.

“Frank thinks she came a week early, but she was just on time. He was supposed to get back before she came but something top secret kept him there longer- anyways- Frank called Billy and Billy showed up at my doorstep in maybe ten minutes. Back then, he had this old, beat up Harley- strictly american- you know?” She glances at you as if you’re supposed to understand what she’s saying, but you can only shake your head in confusion.

She grins, “Sorry, he used to be real patriotic, American brands as much as possible,” She shakes her head, “He’s grown out of that since his discharge. Anyway- that was maybe the first day he actually cared about me, held my hand all the way to the delivery room, almost punched a nurse that told him family only. I was so mean to him too, probably almost broke his hand with the contractions. And then Lisa decided to wait, had me in labour for fourteen hours.”

Your eyes widen drastically, mouth dropping open. She laughs when she sees your face, finishing up her last mug to sit next to you.

“Yeah, gave Frank just enough time to get there. And then there were four of us.”

She blinks, smiling, deep in thought.

“Billy was scared of her, he didn’t hold her for at least two months after, he’d somehow worked it into his head that she wouldn’t like him, but one night I got real sick, and while Frank was taking care of me, he’d begged Billy to come over and take care of Lisa. The first time Frank put her in Billy’s arms, she cried, at the top of her lungs. I thought Billy would have given up immediately, but he didn’t, he rocked her in his arms till she was asleep, and even after he held on to her for as long as he physically could.”

“The moral, of my very long story is that Billy isn’t someone who gives up at the first sign of trouble, and he’s definitely not someone that gets annoyed with someone he loves. If he chooses you, he’s going to stick with you. He knows what it’s like to have no one on his side, and because of that, his loyalty is unbreakable.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. You wanted to know him the way she did. You wanted stories like this to smile at when you thought of him. You wanted to know what he looked like, riding an old era motorbike, and to see him so drunk he can’t make it to a couch.

“I lost all of my friends because of him.” You whisper, heartbroken, “They thought I cheated on Dominic. Friends that I loved, blocked me because they thought I’d done something terrible.” 

She reaches to place her hand over yours, squeezing tightly.

“Maybe they weren’t very good friends to begin with.” She suggests softly.

You nod, understanding the point she was trying to get across. 

She makes you tea, something calming that makes you sluggish, offers up one of Billy’s old shirts for you to sleep in, and shows you to the guest room. Not once, does she suggest you go back to his home, so easily welcoming, that sleep is attainable within minutes.

Maria, considers for a moment while watching you sleep, that she should tell someone that you’re here. No doubt Billy doesn’t know you left, travelled all the way here by your lonesome. She unlocks her phone, pulls up her husband’s number, and hesitates on the call button. Maybe Billy’s reaction to finding you gone would set the both of you straight. 

She grins deviously, putting her phone away and getting ready for bed herself.

.

It’s almost three a.m when Billy gets back home. He’s tired, his shoulders sagging with having to carry the weight of them. His eyes hurt, feels so much discomfort in his whole body that only sleep can provide.

His shower is quick, functional, though the warm water begs him to stay and enjoy it, he gets out as soon as he can, ambling to the closet to grab a pair of comfortable pants for sleeping.

He moves in the dark, working on a memory of where everything is to stop him from making too much noise, not wanting to turn on the lights either, he really doesn’t want to wake you.

In the dark, his bed is deliciously comfortable, he lies on his front, before the area where his appendix was removed screams in protest and he’s forced to roll onto his back. He tucks his body under the soft duvet, feeling a thick sense of coziness overcome him.

He reaches a hand out- won't be fully comfortable until he touches your skin, confirming that you're there. In his drowsy state, he struggles to find you. He groans, moving even closer to where he thinks you are, fingers scanning the bed, only finding chilled sheets. He opens his eyes, squinting at the other side of the bed and sees no shape that even resembles you. You simply weren't here.

Were you sleeping somewhere else? 

He sits up, rubbing an eye so that he can see a little more clearly, turning to flip on the bedside lamp to confirm that you really weren't next to him.

Yeah, definitely not in bed.

He stands, sways, groans, pads his way to the living room to find it empty, then searches your office, then his. He says your name, but the only thing that answers is the silence.

He grabs his phone, looking into the almost too bright screen, trying to decipher words that help him find your contact. He squints, pressing the call button before waiting.

Your phone rings and rings and rings and no one answers.

It's then, that Billy begins to feel the panic. He takes a deep breath, calling your number again, searching his house for anything he might have missed, anything at all that tells him where his wife had gone.

He calls for you, all sleep erased from his mind, he does a finer walk through of his place, looking for items out of place, signs of struggle.

If you'd left, someone would have seen you and told him, right?

What if you'd been kidnapped?

Billy feels his lungs seize up.

He looks down at his phone again, hands shaking, opening up the location app he'd installed just in case. He'd told you about it, told you how to disable it if you really didn't want to be found. This would help him narrow down what kind of situation he was in.

He lets a breath out when he sees your little symbol pop up- you'd chosen the image of a black cat for some reason- he zooms out, eyebrows drawing together when he sees where your phone is.

He closes the app, calls Frank.

“Whad'ya want, Russo?” Comes Frank's sleepy voice after a few rings.

“Is my wife in your house?” Billy asks, a lot calmer than he feels.

Frank says your name in question.

“Yes, Frankie, ask Maria.”

He hears some shuffling.

“It's four in the morning Bill, I'm not waking my wife for that, I'll just check the guest bedroom.”

Billy waits, listening to Frank's slow breaths, his hand gripping his phone tightly, his other hand curled into a fist.

“Oh yeah, there she is.”

Billy sags with relief.

You were okay.

“I'm coming.” Billy announces.

“Use your spare, I'm going to bed.” Frank grunts, before ending the call.

Billy grabs his coat and the keys to his fastest car and nothing more, leaving his apartment quickly, wide awake now more than ever.

He breaks every speed limit possible, makes it to Frank's home in half the time it usually takes. His body hurts as he has to move slowly now, quietly so that he doesn’t disturb the peace in the house.

He uses his spare key, locking the door behind him, double checking Frank's security while he's here. 

He finds the guest bedroom easily, having stayed here countless times, he knows this place like he knows his own.

His stomach twists, he wonders why you left. Did you not want to be around him? Had something else happened? He knew that the chances of you running away were low, ever since he'd shamelessly listened to the conversation between you and Dominic (He'd bugged the office of course) he'd had an inkling that maybe you were growing to love him as much as he loves you.

The door clicks shut behind him, and he feels a sense of ease wash right over him at the sight of your sleeping form. 

He pushes his coat off his shoulders, torso bare underneath as he climbs into bed and hovers over you.

His hands cup your face, waking you with a little start.

“Billy?” You hum, voice so tiny, his little wife disturbed from slumber.

He can't help it, leaning in to kiss you softly, followed by him wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Why'd you leave home, baby, hmm?” He asks, cheek pressed to the top of your head.

Your voice is muffled in his chest.

“Was lonely.” You say.

It damn near breaks his heart.

“I'm sorry.” He sighs, and he means it with every bone in his body.

“S’alright, you're here now.”

And he is, crawls under the sheets, wraps you in his arms, and feels the stress drip right out of him. Only then, does he allow sleep to take him.

.

He wakes to laughter. He blinks, sitting up, an automatic response to the sound.

Hearing laughter while he slept was never a good sign. In the group home it meant that some poor kid's face was being written on. In the military, it was shaving cream on your hands, or dirt in your bed.

He bolts up, looks around, determines no danger before he relaxes.

He smiles, slips out of bed, and goes in search of one of the shirts he keeps around for situations like these.

.

“Honestly,” Maria says enthusiastically, uncapping the milk she just pulled from the fridge, “I thought we were goners, Billy was still recovering from that gunshot that almost made him bleed out in the desert, and Frank had several grazes, but even injured like that, the burglars never stood a chance.”

Your eyes are wide in suspense.

“Where was Lisa?” 

“In bed beside me, Frank shook me awake and we hid in the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he came and got me cause the fight was over.”

“Holy shit, that sounds terrifying. I've had some almost run-ins with burglars as well at my old place.”

“Really? What happened?” Maria asks, really interested, concern in the undertones of her voice.

“It was close to Christmas and almost everyone in the building was out visiting family, but I was studying for an exam the next day for my old job.” You think back to it, deep in thought, “I remember hearing heavy footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of doors shaking. I had my lights off because they’d made my eyes burn and I was just using my lamp lights, so it maybe looked like I wasn’t home. The person was trying each door, shaking them hard. I can still hear the rattle. I texted Nic, and he’d told me to hide, but before I could call the police, the rattling just stopped. I sat in silence for a long time. I was kind of shocked dumb, and I didn’t call the police because it seemed like he left without any real harm being done. I probably should have, but also I really needed to study for this stupid exam. I did tell my landlord though, and she tightened security and it never happened again. I really regret not calling the police though.”

Maria nods, relating to you.

“Fear can really hold you in place. I’m sure whoever it was, got what they deserve, don’t stress about it too much.”

You smile, mimicking her nod. She really understood you, and you find yourself hooked to the Castles just a little bit more.

Just then her smile widens as her eyes flit behind you for just a second.

You turn to look back curiously when suddenly you get pulled into someone’s arms. You know it’s him from the moment you touch, you grin widely at the way he squeezes you.

“Excuse us for a second, Maria,” Billy says, hand gripping your wrist to tug you in the direction of the guest bedroom, “I need a moment with my wife.”

She nods, before remembering something.

“There are kids in the house.” She warns sternly, locking eyes with Billy.

“Wet blanket.” He shoots back as he tugs you around the corner and out of the room.

The door to the guest bedroom can only slink shut before you’re pressed against it. Your eyes fall shut as his mouth meets yours, your heart fluttering so surely that you’re sure it’ll fly soon. He kisses like he’s starving, hands holding your face, mouth eager against yours, you copy his fervour, pulling him closer by the shoulders, the delight of feeling your passion mirrored isn’t lost on you.

You smile up at him happily when the kiss breaks, only for him to drop his head once again, ever eager for just one more kiss.

“Is everything alright?” You whisper softly, confused about his feverish kisses.

“I’m sorry.” 

“...For?”

He touches the tip of your nose softly with his.

“Where do I even fucking begin? I’m sorry I left you alone, I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to sneak out, I’m sorry that I’m the reason you have no friends-”

“-That one wasn’t really all you,” You interject, “They didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”

He shakes his head.

“I’m just… sorry for all the pain I put you through.”

You can’t bear to hear him say it, your throat squeezes tight at the very sound of the words.

“It’s alright,” You reassure, rising onto your toes to kiss him, “We’re alright.”

.

You peek at him while he drives, wondering if now was the best time to talk to him.

He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow curiously, eyes turned back to the road.

You think that maybe there’s no time like the present, and you take a deep breath, reaching out for his hand before you catch yourself, moving your hand back to your side.

Before you can get fully there, he reaches out, taking your hand in his. You turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“Notice you’ve been doing that a lot.” He murmurs, tugging your hand up to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of your hand, “Reaching for me and stopping halfway. Making fists with your hands to stop yourself. Why?”

“I just, don’t want to annoy you is all.”

He huffs in amusement, you feel his warm breath on the back of your hand.

“You’re funny.” He hums, giving your hand another kiss.

“I’m serious.” You whisper.

His lips part, eyebrows drawing together as he slows his driving a little to look at you.

“You’re serious?” He echoes, “You think you could annoy me?”

“I think I could annoy a saint.” You grumble.

“You know that I’m… obsessed with you right?” 

“Are you? I hadn’t noticed.” You say dryly.

He huffs out a breath of amusement for a second time.

“Do you know what that means? It means I’ve seen your medical records.” 

You glance at him, shock running down your spine.

“And?”

“And I’ve done background checks on everyone you’ve ever met.”

You try to swallow but your throat has gone dry.

“And?” You whisper, his hand is still in yours, holding on to you.

“And I know where you went to school, I pulled your student records, I’ve scoured the internet for your face and I’ve probably seen photos of you that maybe you don’t even know existed. I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and nothing could have stopped me,” He turns to look you in the eye, “Not even you.”

“I’m sorry to scare you, but if you think that I don’t know how needy you are, how touch starved, how badly you want to be held, what makes you cry, you’re lying to yourself. I know all of these things, and I want you because of them.”

You close your eyes, trying to process his words in a reasonable way.

God, there had to be something seriously wrong with the both of you. Him, for saying those things, and you, for managing to somehow feel reassured by them, even if there was a little fear mixed in.

You don’t say another word to him the rest of the way back.

There’s a silence all around you as you follow him into the apartment, a whirring in your ear that sounds like waves of static, disconnecting you from reality.

You reach out, gripping his arm tightly. He turns, looking down at you with an unnameable expression.

“I need you.” You say softly through half-gritted teeth, pulling him roughly, feverishly toward the living room.

He doesn’t say a word, and you’re grateful for that, he’s said enough already.

“Take it off.” You breathe, reaching for your own pants, pulling them off, followed by your shirt. He catches the intention behind your movement, and drops his coat easily.

When you get yourself naked, you lie back on the couch, not having to wait long before his naked body covers yours.

“Do you need me to-” He offers, and you silence him by pressing a finger to his lips.

You shake your head, reaching down, pumping his hard cock a few times before guiding him into your dripping wet core.

Billy gasps in surprise.

“Shocked?” You tease, “I thought you knew everything about me.”

His eyes darken, something terrifying crosses his features. He moves his arms, braces one on each side of your head. Your eyes flit to the snake curled over his shoulder.

“I don’t know everything about you,” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, “But I will.”

.

.

.

A/N: Happy Holidays to you!

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hello there! This question isn’t so much about popularity as it is about feeling lonely in fandom spaces. I’m in a relatively small fandom where it’s easy to “run into” the same users who write fanfic and draw fanart a lot. Over the years I’ve tried doing all the usual things to make fandom friends, like commenting a LOT on fanfic when new works are posted, being friendly in my author’s notes, being friendly on tumblr, complimenting artists works and reblogging and just generally trying to share the love so to speak.

People will reblog my art on here, but on AO3 I tend to get crickets on most of my stuff. Especially on fics for my OTP. My OTP is notttt popular in the fandom. It’s actually a lot of people’s NOTP because it “takes away” from the canon couple. I’ve accepted a long time ago that I’m going to get less readers because of the shipping stuff alone. But even on my works that aren’t shipping focused at all, it’s just crickets.

It just kinda sucks to try so hard to make fandom buddies and see them all having fun together and constantly feel like the kid sitting alone in the corner. I keep wondering if people in the fandom don’t like my fics just because of the shipping thing because I know I’m not a bad writer. But like I said, I’ve tried reaching out to people, be encouraging and show joy at what they create, but I just keep wondering what I’m doing wrong to make fellow fans not want to be friends with me. I’ve been focusing on just doing my own thing but yeah, it sucks not having anybody to fangirl with.

First of all anon, *hugs*. Being lonely sucks, and I'm sorry to hear you're in that situation.

When it comes to the other folks in your fandom, I don't think it's necessarily that they don't want to be friends with you. I think you might just need to do a little extra legwork to get in the friendship door.

It's not really fair, but it is kind of human nature, that if there is a perceived difference with someone else, we tend to keep them at a bit of a distance. It doesn't mean we dislike them! It just means that it takes more effort for us to get past that difference and see them as a friend. The more we do it, of course, the easier it gets and you might not even notice the hiccup anymore - in person.

You're probably in the "acquaintance zone," if you'll allow me to use the phrase. People probably have a generally positive impression of you because you're nice and you're friendly and you're encouraging. But if most of their conversations are happening in a ship-centric venue, for example, then you're not going to have access to the full spectrum of community with them.

You mention that other folks see your OTP as a NOTP. Do you feel the same way in reverse? They might assume that you do, and that's what's keeping you out of those convos. If you actually don't mind their ship and simply prefer your own, you could always attempt to make a foray in that direction? Let them know you don't mind being exposed to their shipping talk?

Another thing you could try would be to identify the multishippers. In my experience, those are the folks who are most open to befriending folks who don't ship the main pairing. They can see possibilities all over the place, and they're happy to be exposed to new ideas.

Small fandoms can be rough when you're into a niche part of it ❤️ Let's see how others handle your situation.

You can also find this question and answer on Dreamwidth.

[rogerswifesblog]

Hi Vera😘❤️

for your 1k bingo: Ari + sex pollen👀

Imagine Ari being an agent. Ari jokes around and flirts around a lot, which makes you cautious about what comes out of his mouth. Stuff like "you're a peach" "can you help me with this, sweetheart?" "My heart just stopped, you're so beautiful." He would say this to different agents and scientists all day without truly meaning it. But you have a huge crush on him, nonetheless.

Fast forward to the incident, when Ari played around the lab carelessly one day and accidentally caused lab scientists to mix up two dangerous chemicals. And since he's the only one in the lab who didn't have a full hazmat suit on, he inhaled the chemicals (which is sex pollen) and was sent to quarantine. And when his mind is in a haze, the only name that stuck in his head is yours👀👀👀

Does he call you to the quarantine room? Do you perceive his words as a desperate measures or you believe him? Does he tell you about his feelings after the pollen wears off?👀👀👀It's your decision! :3 Surprise me hehehehehe😘😘😘

(And probably the fourth(or fifth?) Time, congratulations on your 1k❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Ari + sex pollen???? Damn👀 an idea I never knew I needed but yeah. Love it.

And thank you sm!🥺❤️

Turns out I’m shit at short Drabble writing so this one is 4 k, enjoy 🤣

All drabbles will be posted with the tag “1 k followers special” just look for it on my blog:)

Addicted to you

Warnings: dub-con (sex pollen), p in v, unprotected sex, squirting

„Hello, gorgeous, how’s your day?“, your favorite coworker asked, not you. He leaned over Mindys table, right in front of you, making you sigh quietly.

Ari was a very friendly and also handsome man. Most agents, especially all women, had a crush on him, even married once.

And of course, you.

You had a crush on your work partner, making your life awfully miserable. At first you actually thought something was between you, a little spark maybe. All the flirting and sweet petnames seemed to be special, right? Wrong. At least to Ari. He called half the agents gorgeous or flirted his way out of writing reports. At this point whenever he came to you, offering his sweet smile and glances, you knew it was for a reason.

"you're a peach" “No, Ari, I won’t share my lunch.”

"Can you help me with this, peach?" “No, Ari, I won’t write your report”

"My heart just stopped, you're so beautiful, peach." “No, Ari, I won’t fall for that. Go get you your own coffee.”

It’s always the same game. Him trying to flirt his way out of something and you having to do everything to not lose your mind over his words. You’d do anything to hear these compliments honestly. Having Ari call you beautiful because you two went on a date and not because he needed something.

At first you had fallen for it, still hoping the spark you felt was real-but then you noticed he didn’t seem to care about his words as much as you did. How many women here thought he actually meant any of it? How many agents had or will have their heart broken because of his careless thinking? Well, you were definitely one, but probably not the first.

“Oh, really? You don’t have to do that, gorgeous, are you sure?” “Oh course, Ari. I wanted to get a coffee anyway, it wouldn’t make much sense for you to walk unnecessarily if I’m already on my way”, said the clearly not suspecting woman. Sometimes you felt bad for them, really, but on the other hand you knew Ari wouldn’t stop his flirting. You tried to tell him to stop, but it seemed like it was a part of his personality he just couldn’t ‘turn off’.

Grinning Ari walked over to your desk, plopping down on it with his ass, nearly knocking over your own coffee, “be careful you imbecile”, you hissed, making the man laugh. “Good morning to you too, peach. I can tell Mindy to get another coffee for you, if you want”, “no thank you, I like my coffee without the taste of slave, besides I still have mine”, with that you stubbornly took a long sip of your coffee, trying not to frown when you noticed how cold it had already gotten. And Ari definitely saw it too, but he didn't comment on it.

“So, what are we doing today? I heard they have something for us in the laboratory?”, he asked instead, leaning a bit closer to you so he’d be able to read whatever you were writing. His aftershave immediately hit you, making you feel lightheaded. God, how could someone smell this good?

What you didn’t know, he was thinking the same about you, not being able to stop himself from leaning a bit further into your personal space and nearly falling from the desk. “Ari, stop that or you might already sit in the chair with me-” “oh that’s not a bad idea, let’s-“ “no.”

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. “But why-“ “Hey, Ari, I got your coffee-and they called you into the lab. They said it’s urgent”, said Mindy, walking up to your desk and giving Ari his coffee. Was her blouse further open than before?

Head shaking you stood up, ignoring that she didn’t even greet you. “Ari, let’s go”, you didn’t let him talk to Mindy anymore, already grabbing his massive biceps and pulling him to the labs. “Wait-I wanted to-” “I don’t care what you wanted to do, you’re here to work and not to flirt” “geez, chill, someone’s got their panties in a twist-tho I couldn’t help you untwist them, peach.” “Ari-”

At this point you weren’t even sure why he was still your work partner.

Just when you wanted to enter the lab someone held you back, one of the interns smiling up at you. “Oh hello, Peter, everything okay?”, you smiled at him, not noticing Ari rolling his eyes when the young man blushed. “I have some documents for you to sign, it’s important”, since it was important you told Ari to go and ask the scientists about the substance they found while you’d sign the papers.

“So, Peter, how was your weekend?” You asked the young man, while sitting down at your desk. He sat down in the chair in front of your desk, looking around your office. Mindy seemed to ignore him, just like she did ignore you. What a bitch. Did she really only talk when Ari was around?

Peter cleared his throat. “It was really fun, we-“ a shrill alarm sounded, alarming everyone to leave the building. Fire? No it wasn’t the fire alarm. You’ve never heard this before. Grabbing petter by the arm you immediately left your office, hearing Mindy's steps behind you. “What’s happening?”, you called out to one of the guards.

“There was an accident in the lab. Some chemicals exploded-“

Your chest immediately tightened. Oh god. Ari. No, no, no. What if he got hurt? What if he- “Miss, we need to go”, your intern interrupted you, pulling you out of the building. “No wait- I need-Ari is still there-”

The whole floor was closed for two days. Two days in which you didn’t know what happened to Ari. You were worried sick-and heartbroken. His behavior may be annoying but it didn’t mean your heart had stopped craving him. It seemed your feelings only grew in the past days.

As soon as you entered the building you went to your boss to ask about Ari, not receiving much information only that he was alive but in quarantine. Did it mean he had a disease? Maybe whatever the scientists had found was incurable?

Again you felt yourself nearly hyperventilating. “Please let me see him. I just want to see he’s alive. I don’t believe it until I see it myself”, you nearly begged with tears in your eyes. Your boss sighed, rubbing the brick of his nose with two of his fingers. “Fine, fine just-stop crying. I can’t handle that”, he mumbled walking you to the quarantine room.

You could see him through a window and your boss was right, he was alive.

But he looked like death was close.

He was sweaty, his clothes soaked and hugging his body like a second skin. His skin was pale. Dark circles beneath his eyes. His wrists cuffed to the bed. God, poor Ari. “What’s wrong with him?” “We don’t really know…He was affected by the chemicals. The scientists said he inhaled them and immediately felt dizzy, hot…started mumbling some nonsense about peaches”, said the man. Just when you wanted to ask something else his phone rang. He excused himself and walked away.

The ringing had caught Ari’s attention. “Peach-peach”, he whined, writhing in the bed like crazy. His wrists were already red and scratched, but it didn’t stop him from pulling at them harder. You swallowed, seeing his wrists bleeding.

“Miss, you’re not allowed to be here”, one of the doctor’s came, pulling you a bit further away from the window. You noticed how it made Ari even angrier than before, throwing himself from side to side. “Bastard! Don’t-don’t fucking touch her!”, he hissed, making you immediately pull away from the doctor who had touched your arm. Ari stopped his movements, his breathing slowly calming down.

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, the doctor doing the same and reaching out to you again, making Ari going feral. Seeing the hand of the stranger touching your skin made him pull at the restraints even harder, till they started cutting in his skin. Not wanting Ari to hurt himself, you stepped away from the man, closer to the window noticing how Ari tried to lift his hand-which wasn’t possible.

“Let me in. I think he…wants my company?”, you mumbled. The man seemed unsure. “We don’t know what the chemicals did to his body-he’s still…unstable. And maybe contagious-“ “Please, I think he’ll feel better when I’m there”, the Doctor sighed and pulled out a key, opening the door. As soon as you walked in Ari tried to pull at his restraints to touch you, which he managed when you sat down at the edge of his bed.

A moan escaped his throat when your cool hands touched his burning forehead. “Oh god, you have a fever-and you’re drenched”, you whispered, wiping away the sweat from his skin. “I’m-hot. Too hot”, he mumbled, sitting a bit up and hiding his face against your throat, immediately inhaling your smell. The soft smell of your peachy parfum. So, so good. So addicting. “So nice…missed you, peach”, he mumbled, his lips touching your throat, close to kissing.

“Ari, you should…you’re totally out of your mind”, you pushed him back into the pillow, turning around to the doctor who was still watching you two. And taking some notes, huh? “Excuse me, could you get me a cloth and bowl of cold water?”, the doctor nodded, leaving you two for a few moments.

Your hand caressed Aris cheeks, slowly brushing down to his chest, his chest heaving uncontrollably, heart pounding so fast you couldn’t count the beats. “I’m so sorry I let you walk into the lab alone. I should’ve known something would happen…”

Ari moaned again, pushing himself into your palm. He felt completely overwhelmed, especially now that you were here. So close. Touching him.

“I’m hot-I want it off-take it off”, he tried to grab at his clothes, pulling them away from his body, but he couldn’t really move his hands. His breathing became even faster than before. You knew you probably shouldn’t act on his words, but seeing his big blue eyes begging you. “Okay, okay, I’ll help you”, with that you started pushing up his shirt, but stopping at his chest. “You’re cuffed-I can’t help much more, I’m-“ “take them off. I don’t want them-take them off”, he started fidgeting again.

That’s when the doctor from before came in with a cloth and water. “What are you doing miss?” “Open the cuffs-” “miss-“ “open the fucking cuffs! Don’t you see he’s bleeding? When will you react?! When he breaks his wrists?!!” You started arguing with him, making the man jump in surprise, not expecting your yelling.

“Fine, but I’m leaving the room.” He only put the bowl with the cloth aside, giving you the key to Aris cuffs. Then he quickly left the room leaving you with Ari behind.

You felt your own hands shake while slowly opening the restraints. Before you could even really let Ari pull out his hands he was already taking off his shirt, not caring about the ripping sound. When you noticed how he tried to open his pants you gasped quietly. “Wait Ari-no-pants no”, you took his hands that were working on his zipper, making him moan quietly while he pushed his hips up into your hands.

It surprised you and you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling your hands away again. “Fuck no-don’t stop”, he mumbled grabbing you by the hips and pulling onto his hips, letting you feel his hard dick throb in his pants. “What-Ari, what are you doing-hey-no”, you swatted his hands away, grabbing the wet cloth and hitting his chest with it.

Ari gasped, his eyes focusing a bit more while he looked up at you, still lightheaded but less than before. “Please-I don’t know what’s happening to me-but I need you-fuck, I need you so bad, please”, he sat up and immediately buried his face again your throat, kissing and sucking at your skin. He was losing his control.

He felt exactly like he felt when the chemicals first hit him.

As soon as he opened the tube, a yellow powder explosion went right in his face. Everything around him started to spin, his vision getting blurred and-he felt aroused. So fucking aroused.

Why weren’t you here? You were supposed to come with him. He needed to see you. No.

He needed to fuck you.

God. He wanted to feel your skin. Your lips. To taste you. He wanted to taste the sweet peachy shampoo or parfum-or whatever it was that made you smell so good.

“Peach-where’s-peach”, he moaned quietly, bracing himself on the table next to him. He didn’t even know what was happening around him. The people calling a code something-and grabbing him, touching him. He hated the touch of these people. He wanted you. “Peach-no-not you-peach-“

“Ari, are you okay?”, when your voice pulled him out of his thoughts he grabbed your arms again. “I can’t control myself-I need you-fuck-please-“, he mumbled close to your lips, already wanting to kiss them, but you pushed him away.

Someone walked into the room again, two doctors you didn’t know. “We found out what it is-but there’s no cure for it”, hearing this made your throat tighten. No cure? “Miss, he won’t die-not if…the person of his desire…helps him out.” You didn’t understand what they were talking about and it was also hard to concentrate with Ari trying to kiss your throat or sucking hickeys into your skin.

“What do you mean help him out? What should I-Ari stop it-that tickles-“, you tried to push his head away, feeling his beard tickle your throat. He whined when you pushed his forehead again, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Miss, we think Mr Levinson was affected by, the so called, sex pollen, a drug making the affected wanting to…breed and reproduce. It won’t stop until he…fulfills his needs.” The doctors words made your mouth immediately feel dry, like you hadn’t drank anything for days.

“I…need to have sex with him?” Both doctors looked at each other, then back at you. “We can probably try to find someone to…help him, but he seems to react to you.”

For fucks sake, why couldn’t he be affected by…something that wouldn’t make him want to reproduce.

Of course you’ve always wanted it, but not like this. You wanted for it to matter and not when Ari was not himself. Drugged.

You swallowed. Then swallowed again.

“Okay…i'll do it, but…can we have privacy? A room without a huge window?”, you asked self consciously, finally letting Ari bury his face further in your neck and cleavage since he definitely heard you agreeing to sleeping with him.

The doctors seemed a bit uncomfortable in this situation. “Yeah this window has curtains. Well let them down and then you can-“ “Yeah I know-just-go. I’ll take care of him”, you mumbled a bit embarrassed and also slowly turned on. How could someone not get turned on when the person they love kissed their throat and cleavage? Or nibbled at your earlobe? Fuck, your panties were probably drenched.

A couple minutes later the doctors were gone, the curtains lowered and some of the buttons of your shirt open, but Ari seemed impatient just ripping the rest from your body, making you gasp quietly. “Ari-“, you moaned, letting him pull you over his lap, his hard dick immediately pressing into your cunt. There were still too many layers between you two, making Ari mumble something unhappily, while he opened his pants, hastily pushing them down.

You quickly helped him out of his clothes, nearly falling from his lap since Ari was so impatient to finally get out of these he kind of got carried away and was close to actually pushing you from the bed. As soon as his body was completely bare he sighed in relief and grabbed your waist, pushing you into the bed. You didn’t had much time to appreciate the beauty of him, before he started hastily ripping your skirt and slipping from your hips, immediately pushing your legs open.

“Jesus-Ari, we have time-”, you mumbled when he immediately tried to place himself between your thighs, his lips still suckling at your throat. When he reached your breasts he bit into the flesh, making you moan in pleasure and surprise. His tongue circled the pink teeth mark, before hastily doing the same closer to your nipple.

When you felt the tip of his cock press against your wet cunt you couldn’t stop the nervousness creeping up inside you. Even though you weren’t able to really admire him you still noticed the size of his cock.

No wonder he was always this…cocky.

“Ari-oh fuck-”, when he thrusted inside your wet cunt you couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your mouth, especially since he didn’t waste time before fucking you hard and fast. His gaze glued to your cunt swallowing his cock, clearly only thinking about his release.

For a moment you doubted even if it really mattered to him who was beneath him. Did he really recognise you as you or were you just a cumdump to him? (Not that you would’ve mind under other circumstances.)

“Peach-peach look a’me”, Ari moaned, grabbing your chin with one hand, making you look into his blown eyes, the pupil completely swallowing the usually bright color. “My peach-mine”, his words were slightly slurred, but it seemed like he meant it. Maybe. Hopefully.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him a bit closer till your bodies were flushed against one another. “Yes, Ari, your peach. I’m all yours”, you whispered into his ear, not expecting the nearly inhuman sound rumbling from his chest, his thrust immediately quickening, the sound of skin on skin slapping becoming louder, just like the squelching sound from how wet you were for him.

Fuck, it felt so good. He was fucking you like no one else before. His cock was hitting every spot inside you, his pelvis rubbing against your clit from time to time, stimulating you even more. “Fuck-fuck, Ari-I’m close-please-oh god”, as soon as you felt your high approach your nails pushed into the skin of his back and biceps, making him moan in pleasure. The pain felt so good. So, so good.

You were a moaning and shaking mess beneath Ari, while he watched your every reaction. He didn’t know what to say or if he was saying something. He knew he opened his mouth, but the only thing leaving his lips were moans and grunts. He had no idea why he was behaving like this, like…like a feral animal, but all his sensations felt so different, his senses heightened, especially his smell. The smell of you was everywhere, surrounded him, filled his lungs whenever he took a breath.

A few thrust more and your cunt started squeezing him, your walls tightening around him, hugging him like you were made for him. Your mouth was open in a silent moan, your face scrunched in pleasure. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips onto yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. The kiss took you by surprise but you immediately returned it with the same enthusiasm.

Slowly feeling too overstimulated, from having him hit your g-spot over and over again, you felt yourself coming closer to something you’ve never felt before. Not only were you completely lightheaded and cockdrunk, but your whole body seemed to have stopped listening to you. Your legs gave out, your thighs not wrapped around Aris waist like the did before, your arms lightly hanging around his neck.

Ari grabbed your legs, pushing them up to your chest, before continuing his assault on your sensitive spot. The change in position makes him feel even bigger, if that’s even possible. With that he was also now fucking your spot dead on. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat feeling raw from moaning and screaming in pleasure, your whole body useless, just like a doll in his hands.

Before you could react another orgasm rushed over you, this one different, more intense, like never before.

You squirted all over Ari and yourself, your juices gushing onto his thighs and abdomen, a deep growl rumbling in his throat while he pushed his cock deeper into you, grinding against you while you felt him twitch inside you, your walls milking him while was filling you with his cum.

He didn’t stop releasing for a few minutes and you didn’t know if it was because of the drug or if it was just Ari, but when he finally pulled out and put your legs down some of his cum leaked out of you, making him grunt in annoyance and furrow his eyebrows a bit. If you had the strength to do it you'd probably have laughed at his behavior, but your muscles were too sore.

“Come’ere my caveman and stop grunting at my…you know”, you laughed quietly but also a bit self conscious. When he saw your open arms Ari immediately laid onto you, his face pressed into your neck once again. “Mine”, he mumbled barely audible, while you gently scratched his hair and back, noticing the rosy lines you’d left behind.

At that point you didn’t know what to do next. Were you supposed to leave him now? Would he be fine now? But just leaving like that felt weird. Especially since Ari meant to you more than just a friend, way more than that.

A few minutes passed and you noticed how Ari’s body felt cooler now, it even seemed like he had goosebumps. Not wanting him to freeze you grabbed the blanket that was laying on the floor and pulled it over his body. You felt him sigh softly against your skin, cuddling closer into the crook of your neck. It felt nice to have this huge man making himself small to fit into your arms wanting to cuddle.

It also made you think….

Was his head clear now? How would he react? Would he be mad?

“Ari…are you awake?”, you whispered quietly into his ear, hearing him mumble something incoherent back. The corners of your lips twitched while you shook his shoulder again, finally getting him to lift his head. At first he seemed confused, then shocked, then confused again and finally something like..regret.

Oh god, no. He didn’t want it. He regretted it. What if he felt like you- “I’m so sorry you had to do this, peach-I-I never wanted for it to happen like this-fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have-” “Ari, it’s okay. I understand. You needed it. We can forget it and just think of it as…needs to an-“ “no. We can’t forget it-please don’t make me have to forget it. I don’t want to forget it..”, his voice quietened to the end, his gaze glued to your face.

Noticing your confusion he leaned down, pressing his lips gently onto yours, only in a sweet peck. A soft smile crept onto his lips, even a blush was visible. “I wanted to do all of it with you…touch you…kiss you…taste you…fuck you”, he whispered the words in your ear, kissing down your throat, before lifting his head again, “I’m sorry it happened like this and not how you really deserved it.”

You still were confused, but your chest tingled with hopefulness. “So you mean-you like me?“, to that Ari only laughed gently before kissing you one more time, passionate and loving.

“But never call me caveman again, tho.”

“Sure…..caveman”

Thank you for reading!

I hope you liked it! Leave some feedback and don’t forget to reblog!

Flood my inbox!:) I’ll try to post one or two drabbles everyday!:)

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XVIII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself, and... idk, I didn't mean to put anything warning worthy here, but if you think of something I guess let me know. <3

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII

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The days that followed after Satoru told you he liked you, it seemed that everything had gone back to normal and you two were slowly falling back into your usual routine: meeting up early in the mornings, bantering in between classes and missions, and eating lunch with Shoko when all of you were at the school. It was comforting to have things return to how they used to be, or that was what you thought.

“What’s up with him?” Shoko asked across from you.

Satoru had business to attend so he had just left you and Shoko at the table in the cafeteria.

“What do you mean?” you looked in the direction he had gone but could no longer see him.

From your perspective, Satoru had not changed much since that day he walked through the school holding your hand; he had not pressed the subject of whether you liked him back still any further either, and since he appeared to be okay in this grey zone where you two were sitting, you had not brought it up either. However, Shoko, as perceptive as ever, had noticed how Gojo, who always seemed to like your personal space, was moving into it almost permanently these days; how he was not even bothering to be discreet with the way he looked at you or remained by your side when you were in the same room, and how, if he was not careful, it would be evident to everyone pretty soon.

At first, Shoko had believed it was all in her head; since that day, years ago, when she first considered that Gojo could have some kind of crush on you, the notion had prevailed. In fact, she had thought she was looking into her friends’ relationship too much, maybe because none of them seem to pay any mind to how they were perceived, so it was not entirely impossible her eyes were just making her believe what she had accepted as true for so long was finally materializing.

Gojo’s laid-back attitude had been one of the reasons why Shoko doubted he cared seriously about whatever feelings he could have for you. Other than that rocky season in high school and a few other occurrences through the years that followed, Satoru had never taken any steps towards an actual relationship with you. Hence, Shoko thought it's a harmless crush.

But as of lately, he looked more... intent. Or maybe...

He’s losing his grip.

“You’ve never found him annoying, have you?” Your friend looked at her almost empty plate and it somehow reminded you of a similar talk you had had months ago.

“A bunch of times, but I guess I don’t find him too annoying,” you answered.

“Isn’t that all love is about?” Ieiri’s eyes connected with yours.

Her comment caught you off guard, and she might have noticed the way your smile froze because her gaze did not leave yours.

You did the only thing that could think of: laugh it off. “Yeah, I guess, if love is annoying, that is.”

Are you finally annoyed by it, Gojo?

“You tell me.” Shoko smiled and put the last bite of her food in her mouth.

***

“Why won’t she just admit she likes him?” Satoru asked while looking at the movie playing in front of him.

Maybe it was a rhetorical question, but you did not look at him before replying “Because there would have been no movie if they were that direct.”

It was a Friday night and Satoru had made an impromptu proposal to you to have a movie marathon at his place. You had accepted but now, into your first movie of the night, you were having trouble to stay focused on the story, which was supposed to be some sort of romantic comedy, not half as bad as many, but the romantic scenes were making you self-conscious.

You watched the scene where the protagonists had gone from arguing to making out and you felt the need to look somewhere else.

From the corner of your eye, Satoru seemed unimpressed.

He’s unfazed, of course he is.

Actually, Satoru was only calm on the surface. Unbeknownst to you, he had also perceived the change in the air between the two of you when the more intimate scenes started playing. He thought he should have chosen a different film, but suggesting changing it now would only make the unsaid more obvious, so he was sticking it up with the most unexpressive face he could manage as the actors on the screen seemed to melt into each other.

Satoru had not meant anything suggestive by choosing that movie; he had just played the first thing he found as he always did when you had not planned in advance, and under normal circumstances, that would have been fine. You had watched all kinds of films together, including romantic ones, the good and the bad ones, but now…

Satoru was already looking at you when you were about to steal another glance in his direction.

His gaze revealed a question he dared not ask, or rather, a question he had promised himself he would not ask until you were ready.

He was trying to be a good friend, even if he wanted to be more than that. It had took him a while to figure out his feelings, so he had resolved to give you as much time as you needed. Yes, Satoru was convinced he could wait patiently, but…

Is he leaning forward?

At times… His resolve weakened.

“[name]…”

The look he was giving you was that of a kid who wanted to ask for something but did not know how. In his clear eyes, there was need but also fear of being denied.

What is your answer? his eyes were asking.

The winter had also frozen time in your friendship, in this safe spot in Satoru’s place, where you could still be friends and pretend nothing needed to change as it never changed in the years before, not in his apartment nor in your friendship. But time must go on, does it not?

“Satoru...”

His phone rang.

Both of you looked at the phone that was screen-down on the coffee table in front of you, and it seemed to take Satoru a couple of seconds to decide if he wanted to pick it up, but he finally did.

“I’ll be right back.” You got up and went to the kitchen.

Giving him some privacy to take the call was an excuse; part of you just wanted to escape of it all, ask Satoru to take it back, let everything remain as it was, stay in the known, but the other part, the part that had been falling for him all this time wanted to see it through.

Are you in love with him?

For a second, you were back in your living room with Haruki, his question and your answer resonating in your head as you watched the cup of tea travel steady from the table to his lips.

“Some people think knowledge that doesn’t change behavior is worthless,” his eyes did not meet yours, and you did not reply immediately.

“If you knew he liked you, would you act on it?” He had almost finished his cup.

"I don't know," you replied.

Months ago, you had been convinced you wanted to act on your feelings, but now, the idea of change was scary, the idea of trying to later find out it was not what you wanted, was scarier; the idea that you and Satoru would never recover if that happened, was terrifying.

“To change something, you first need to accept the possibility of change, and of course you need to know that those possibilities exist. I guess in that way, that knowledge is not worthless, even if nothing actually comes out of it. We should accept the possibilities.”

His feelings were sudden but if there is a possibility...

“Okay, I can accept that,” you said lowly to yourself.

“You can accept what?” Satoru was looking at you and taking the sodas you had just mindlessly pulled from the fridge from your hands.

The room felt a few degrees warmer with his proximity.

“Nothing, I was just...” Your gaze drifted to the door leading to a small terrace where Satoru had installed a couple chairs to sit on when the weather was nice. He almost never did it though, and you could use some fresh air. “Do you want to go outside?”

A smile played on Satoru’s lips. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Just for a bit.”

That was how you and him needed up outside looking at the city lights. You looked up but it was impossible to see the stars. Satoru mirrored your gesture and then directed his gaze back to the city.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked.

“Regret what?”

He shrugged. “Staying here, doing what we do, not going somewhere quieter or… somewhere where you could see the stars.” He looked up again and you kept your gaze on him.

Why was he asking that now you did not know, but you answered him honestly.

“I do not regret it.” It was true. Even when you did have the opportunity to do something else or be somewhere else, you chose not to leave. “This is pretty too.”

The lights of a city that never seem to sleep were probably not as fascinating and mystical as the stars that burned millions of light years away, but they had some beauty of their own.

“I guess so,” Satoru agreed, and he wrapped an arm around you, and after some silence he spoke again.

“Aren't you cold?”

You nodded your head. “But can we stay here a little longer?”

And maybe what you really wanted to ask was can we stay like this a little longer?

In any case, Satoru would have given you the same response as he held you tighter.

“Of course.”

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Note: I'll try to proofread... Oh, and sorry about basically disappearing. Thank you a bunch for the kind messages during my silence. <3

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XIX

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