Tumgik
#it hurts so much still. i try to just cry it out. try to ride out the storm like my old psych taught me. but it doesnt help i'll just cry
rickysvxr · 1 day
Text
nsfw a to z - ricky
warning - just smut, ricky x f!reader
MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI
Tumblr media
a - aftercare
ricky's the sweetest when it comes to aftercare. he would immediately turn into lovelicky :(( he would ask you if you're alright and if he didn't hurt you too much. he would definitely clean you both and make some food. if you prefer sleeping - he would cuddle you to sleep and sing for you.
b - boobs
ricky's a boob guy - you can't tell me otherwise. when he sleeps he's cuddled into your boobs. he really likes squeezing them. while you ride him he likes sucking on your nipples and leave some hickeys.
c - cum
he would cum into your pussy unless you don't want him to. ricky wants you to be comfortable with anything he's doing. also he's really into cumming into your mouth or on your face.
d - daddy kink
he will definitely make you call him daddy. or maybe sir??? he'd be so into roleplay. he'd call you his little kitten or something. call him daddy and he'd immediately get hard.
e - experience
you both weren't really experienced but ricky knew what to do to make you feel the best. he's open to trying new things.
f - fingering
he'd finger you while you're visiting your family.. he's such a bitch and he knows that. he's also into fingering you when you're studying/working. he really needs your attention :((
g - gagging
he knows you can't take his whole dick to your mouth so he won't force you to anything and he would try not to hurt you. if he would - he'd do it unintentionally.
h - hickeys
for him - he likes leaving them on your boobs or tights so places that only him (and you) can see. you like giving him hickeys on his neck (right on his tattoo 🙈).
i - intimacy
when it comes to real sex he'd like to do it in your bedroom so you both have that private place. but he would also fuck you in the backseat of his car.
j - jerk off
he would definitely send you videos of him jerking off. he would tie a little ribbon on his dick :((
k - kinks
overstimulation, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names (idk if it counts), scratching, roleplay.
l - locations
bedroom, his car, couch, floor.
m - making out
ricky likes to make out late at night when he wakes you up just to make out with you :(( you'd be so sleepy but he loves it so much.
n - no's
he definitely wouldn't force you to anything. ricky wouldn't like to make you cry :( but besides that he's open to anything that you want to try.
o - orgasms
ricky would cum A LOT. it doesn't matter how you make him do that - he would cum a lot. he does at least 3 or 4 rounds (it's minimum for him btw).
p - pet names
baby, darling, sweetheart, my kitten, good girl, princess, sweetie, cutie, slut.
q - quickie
he'd be so into quickies. like before his performance? he would really love it. but still he likes to take his time with you.
r - relationship
in the bedroom - he's really wild and hot. he'd be the bitchest bitch to ever bitch. still he would give you whatever you want (he likes teasing a lot tho).
outside the bedroom - he turns into lovelicky. he's the sweetest person on the earth and you want him to know that! you both love when you're babying him. just give this man some attention and he'd be the happiest person in the world.
s - stamina
as i said before - ricky would do 3 or 4 rounds with you and it's his minimum! he would literally fuck you all day if you both could 😭 he still makes sure he's not hurting you or something. he always asks you if you want to go for an another round.
t - toys
vibrator and that's it. he doesn't like when something other than him is making you feel good. and he lets you know that.
u - unfair
he would make you cum every time. he doesn't like leaving you unsatisfied - it just hurts him. he's into teasing but he'd definitely make you cum before he's done.
v - volume
he likes when you moan so loud - it's music to his ears. he would groan and sometimes even moan. but don't expect it from him unless you're on top.
w - i can't think of any, sorry 😭
x - x-ray
he's BIG. and he knows that. (still he fits perfectly into your pussy).
y - i can't think of any!!!
z - zzz...
he won't fall asleep before you. he always makes sure that you're sleeping, then he would go to sleep. (he's so sweet i can't 😭).
30 notes · View notes
kelpiemomma · 6 months
Text
I love him 🥺 he took care of me today
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
runa-falls · 8 months
Note
size kink with miguel 👀
yes, nonnie, of course.
edit: bro, i'm sorry, this got away from me...
cw: smut (18+), size kink, somnophilia, oral (m-recieving), dry (wet?) humping, the big stretch™️, crying ;-;, finger riding, teasing/edging, free-use (miguel hehe), piv, tummy bulge, overstimulation, cockwarming, uhhh i think that's it???
miguel is so big, he could only slide against your pussy during the first few months of dating you 😵‍💫
you're barely able to take him into your mouth, let alone down your throat, but you still try your best, giving him sweet licks against the sensitive head and sucking him in with a soft moan.
he loves watching you. how everything about you is smaller -- and not because you're smaller, but bc he's just insanely big.
he needed to be the one to stop you from fucking him the first time. you were so desperate to get him inside of you, convincing him with breathy whines that you can take it, you'll be good for him + stretch out as much as he needed.
though he thoroughly prepped you, he could barely push himself into you and as soon as his tip breached your entrance, you cried out and he could barely move.
he had to grit his teeth when he felt how hot and tight you were, almost losing control when you fluttered around him from the intensity of stretch. he slowly pulled out with a heavy groan, eyes blazing red and claws ripping into the mattress next to your head.
he let you pout, whine, and beg for him to try again, but he wouldn't give in. he was too scared of hurting you.
you mewled and writhed in his arms, whining about how you crave being stretched and filled. the only way he could sate you was by plunging two fingers into your cunt, rubbing relentlessly against your g-spot until you're shaking in his hold.
of course, he makes up for his refusal to fuck you.
miguel is a sweet boyfriend: he'll let you grind your naked body over him at any time of the day until you're seeing white and cumming against him, completely soaking his sweatpants as tears spill from your eyes.
he lets you tease him as much as you want, sliding your dripping pussy over his cock until he's unbearably hard and spurting precum all over himself.
he even lets you ride his fingers, letting you take his arm away from whatever he's working on so you can comfortably roll your hips over him and grind your clit against the palm of his hand.
when he finally does fuck you, it's impossible to get him away from you (not that you mind). miguel is mesmerized by how well your smaller body can take him. how you squeeze around him so sweetly, gushing and trembling as he moves against you.
he loves seeing the outline of cock pressing against your tummy, how he can literally see himself move into you as your body struggles to make enough room. he pushes down on it and you get infinitely tighter. his scarlet eyes stares up at your euphoric expression, pretty lips shaped into an O for him as your eyes roll back with pleasure.
miguel, as spider-man, has no refractory period. usually, he'd stop after two or three rounds, but now that he's felt your molten heat over him, the way you shudder around his cock when you cum, he can't get enough.
even when you're filled to the brim with his cum, he still hard inside of you, fucking you harshly until you're dripping everything onto the sheets below you.
<cw: somnophilia>
sometimes you're so exhausted, so delirious with pleasure, that you pass out while he's still rutting into you. the first time it happened he freaked out a little, hoping he didn't push you to far. once you gave him the green light to continue, so turned on by the fact he can fuck you to sleep, he doesn't hesitate to take you all the way.
you regularly wake up with a pleasant soreness between your legs. miguel makes sure to show you extra soft loving in the mornings, cooing about how sweet and pliable you were the night before. sometimes you wake up and he's still inside of you, face cutely nuzzled against the back of your neck.
UM ANYWAY-- 🫠👀
15K notes · View notes
fluffylino · 3 months
Text
minho helps you let out your pent-up emotions
-contains mature themes
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"you've been having an attitude since morning" minho hissed out, hips brutally thrusting into you.
"that isn't your p-problem" you practically shouted. body squirming from how much he had edged you.
minho's face morphing into an annoyed expression. your stomach doing flips when he shot you a glare.
you didn't mean to shout. he had unknowingly hit that spongey spot inside of you.
saying sorry was too late now. you had your pride. yet you were still scared of how he'd react.
"it is my fucking problem" he answered back, sitting on his haunches.
"if you're in pain. im in pain"
staring down at you. lazily thrusting inside of your sopping heat.
"start talking" you threw your head to the side.
whenever you got like this he'd make you open up. you were the type to keep things to yourself.
and minho knew about it.
you had even asked him to help you talk more about your feelings. why you had gotten so worked up. and snapped at him when he asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him.
"no..." you mumbled, eyes watering. he sighed, pushing his hair back.
"fine. be that way"
"i'll just fuck it out of you"
stifling your moans against your arm when he used all his strength to rail you. his hand roughly pulling your arm that was covering you mouth.
"m-minho" you mumbled, trying to look at him. but he ignored you. choosing to keep his eyes fixed on where he entered your cunt.
"minnie"
tears welling up in your eyes. a few slipping out. why wouldn't he look at you.
you deserved to be treated like this. he didn't deserve to be the brunt of your outburst.
his fingers reaching up to hold your waist. making you meet his thrusts. you felt like all your pent up emotions were letting loose. thighs trembling.
his eyes finally meeting yours.
he cooed.
"there we go..." a feeling of accomplishment in his tone. you were crying. broken sentences.
"n-not studied...exam"
he understood. humming in response. exams were in a month and you were stressed. you'd kept procrastinating until finally you were pacing.
it was all your fault. minho seemed to notice how you fell into a dark place.
choosing to ask you. yet you yelled at him. you didn't mean to hurt him. it was all a mistake.
"what do you have to say to me?" he whispered, just for you to hear.
"m'sorry. i didn't mean to be rude.."
"no more thinking now kitten. im here" you sniffled. feeling much better after he accepted your apology.
whining as he pulled out completely.
"get on top" he instructed, sitting upright. successfully pulling your limp body on him. gently lifting you up and sliding right back in.
"always so tight for me" he moaned out. you grinded down on him. letting out little noises as he made you ride him. hands firmly holding your waist.
lips kissing up your neck and gradually going lower. until he mouthed at your tits. sticking his tongue out playfully to toy at them. eyes locked onto yours with a flirty glimmer in them.
"h-hurts" you mumbled, thighs aching. you tried though to keep your composure. how could you let him do all the hard work.
instantly his hands slid down, kneading at your thighs. easing out your tense muscles.
"relax for me" he said in a hushed tone. practically melting against him. his dick still in you.
"let me take care of you princess"
.
.
.
3K notes · View notes
tired-biscuit · 25 days
Note
i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream
18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!
Tumblr media
he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.
always in a good way when it’s with him.
especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.
but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.
however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.
but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.
he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.
you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.
this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.
because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.
if only you could just—
“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”
“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.
“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.
“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.
it seems like you’re no quitter either.
“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”
you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.
maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.
“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.
unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.
it’s definitely progress.
and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.
2K notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 2 months
Text
broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
Tumblr media
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
Tumblr media
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 :'))
Tumblr media
-
-
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. 
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 
“I know.” 
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.” 
“That’s what you said last time.” 
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you. 
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 
Oh. Wait. “What?” 
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 
“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 
“You love it.” 
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 
“Guess what.” 
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 
“I can!” 
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 
And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.” 
Oh. 
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.” 
-
-
tbc. :)
-
Tumblr media
so... how did it go! | join the server!
Tumblr media
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
1K notes · View notes
1800jjbarnes · 4 months
Text
◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟑 : 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
Tumblr media
Godess Amongst Commoner
【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry.
『W.C』 : 1.67k
-> Genre: Mafia Au. Suggestive. Sweet Love.
Paring: MobBoss!Bucky x Chubby!Reader
[Warnings] : Shitty Friends. Mention about putting on weight (which is normal). Mention of a standard. Dark thoughts. Reader hates herself. (I love you all so much.) James wants to lowkey kill your friends. Pet names. Swearing. Crying. Kisses. Hickeys. Little bit of man handling. Fingering.
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was supposed to be a calm day hanging out with your friends but it got turned on its head when you got the the place you were going to meet them and you overheard them talking about your ‘failure’ in life. God, it hurt hearing them explain it like that. It wasn’t like it was your fault that your life came to a crashing stop. It’s not like you asked to get a back injury and gain some weight over the healing time.
It crushed you, trying so hard to lose the weight was no easy task. It was like it stuck to you. You became so insecure about it, and you thought your so-called friends were supportive and loved you no matter what, but it turns out they now looked at you like an outsider. All because you were a few sizes bigger than them.
You felt the restaurant, not even taking the corner to where they were sat. Knowing that if you saw you, they would stop you. They would have most likely say ‘oh why are you leaving babe, don’t go’ but in reality, you now know, it was just pity. That’s how they looked at you. Like a puppy, they had no choice but to look after.
-
You spent the next hour walking home instead of calling for a ride, punishing yourself in a way. When you saw the gate to your front lawn, you sighed, feeling relief. It wasn’t that the walking was hard or anything. But you wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball on your soft bed. What you didn’t expect was for a motorbike parked discreetly in your driveway. ‘wonder who that could be’ you thought sarcastically.
Opening the door to your house, you notice the front door was unlocked, along with a pair of nice dress shoes sitting on the shoe rack. You took your own shoes off, hissing at the pain of walking for so long on small platforms. “James?”
You called, voice echoing in the silent home. He didn’t normally show up unannounced let alone on his bike, given he worried so much about your safety. But when you entered the lounge room and spotted him lying on your soft sofa with one of your plushies tight in his grasp that you keep nearby so you could cuddle it while sitting on the couch alone. You had to smile at him. For a roughed-up mob boss, he sure looks like such an innocent baby right now.
“You better be laughing at yourself, doll.” His deep grumble caught your laughter in your throat. He didn’t even open his eyes, just twitching slightly. He knew it was you the moment he heard the pitter-patter of your socked feet padding around the small home. He was, after all, in a line of work where he needed to be vigilant. “Why are you home anyway?”
You were hoping he wasn’t going to ask you that question ‘cause he knew you were going out with your friends―that he frankly didn’t like―today. Sighing, you took a set on the lone loveseat against the other wall. You knew you would have to tell him cause if you didn’t he would just come up with his own answer. “I left ‘cause I overheard….uh….” Fuck you didn’t even want to talk about what went down in fear that if you saw it aloud it would be real.
He noticed your shift in demeanour instantly, sitting up he shuffled along the couch until he was leaning against the arm. The plushie still nestled in his lap as his harsh grip squeezed its poor head. “What did they say?”
“Nothing important… it was um…” You began to panic, maybe lying would have been the better option now. Bucky goes up from the couch, moving to sit next to you, pulling your legs up to rest them over his lap. You felt a sudden feeling of disgust as he lifted your figure. How could someone like Bucky be in love with someone like you? He was toned, rugged. A handsome bachelor that could have women falling at his feet. But yet here he was. Staring at you with devotion and full of love. You were the only one in his heart… why?
“I swear if you don’t tell me right now.” He sounded threatening, but in truth, you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or others, without knowing you were completely okay with it. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a tear fall down your hot cheek. You didn’t even know when you started crying, but it was like it was out of your control. You were useless, worthless, a failure, and everyone’s eyes. So why not he as well? Why didn’t he not leave for someone else when he clearly deserved better?
He rushed to you without a second thought, holding you close as he hushed you softly. His hand raked through your hair, soothing you while his other hand found your thigh making shapes in your plump flesh. You were so perfect to him, and seeing you cry broke his heart, and when you finally were able to tell him exactly what your so-called friends had said, he lost it. Sitting up, he cupped your face slowly, wiping your tears away as he spoke tenderly. “Honey, you are perfect no matter what anyone says. Including me. Your own opinion about yourself is all that truly matters. You are such a powerful woman, and I wouldn’t be here today if it was not for you.”
You hiccuped, sobbing quietly as he rambled about how much he was devoted to you. His lips found the corner of your wobbling mouth. His hand that once cupped your face now dared to hold the back of your neck while the other perched itself on your hips. He knelt between your legs, locking his lips while mumbling ‘I love you’ over and over through shaken kisses. He needed you to understand how beautiful you are in his eyes. His queen. Without another word, he pressed you gently on the couch, man-handling you until your boy was lying flat on the soft cushioning.
His lips danced down your jaw and neck. “My pretty angel. Perfect like honey. My everything.” His hands played with the buttons of your jeans, popping them open before drawing a hand down your panties. You tried to stop him, feeling you were too ugly for him to touch you. But he protested, smacking your thigh with his free hand. “I’m going to touch you. Pleasure you like the queen you are, and you are going to lay here and scream my name like a good girl.”
You whimpered, still crying, but you nodded, whispering a quick “Yes..Sorry.” but he stopped your whines with his fingers gripping your chin so you’d gaze right into his intense stare.
“Don’t you ever apologize for something you never did. You aren’t the reason for these tears.” He wiped one away with his thumb. “The only time you cry is when I’m pleasuring you so good. You got that, Honey?”
“Yes, Sir…”
“Repeat.” He growled slipping his fingers inside your soaked cunt.
“YES Sir…Fuck…” You moaned, bucking your hips up, spreading your legs without thinking. He hummed in approval, fucking you slowly with his fingers. His lips attached onto your neck, sucking a few harsh marks making sure to put them in places where he’d know people would look. Where your ‘friends’ would see. You see, your lover was an honest man. A fair man. And he had already made plans in his mind of what exactly to do with these so-called friends of yours and once he was down worshipping you as you deserved he was going to have fun…talking… with those disgusting women.
He pulled up your top, tugging down your bra so your breasts would pop out. He wasted no time in littering your gorgeous tits with kisses, licks, and bites. “Mine. You got that darling. You’re all mine. My good girl.” His fingers got faster placing his thumb on your clit making you scream out his name over and over. His chuckle vibrated on your nipples making you shiver in pleasure. His praises booted an ego you thought was on the ground and his lips helped wash away any negativity you mind portrayed towards your lover. “you gonna cum baby? Make a mess on my fingers?”
“Yes, Bucky. Pleaasee.” Your hands flew to his hair, tugging sharply making him groan from the painful pleasure. He rubbed sharp circles on your clit helping you tip over the edge squirting all over his hands your jeans.
“Such a good girl.” You tried to sit up to inspect the damage but Bucky placed a firm hand on your shoulder, effectively pushing you back down onto the couch. “I’m going to strip you naked okay and then you are going to go have a bath while I take a call. And then I’ll join you. How does that sound?”
You know all too well that bath means he wants to fuck you in the tub. One of his favourite places to fuck you since he was surrounded by your scent and sweet candles. But the phone call scared you. Bucky is a dangerous man and a cruel and mean one. One work is going well and he wants updates or… he wants someone dead. And from what you told him prior you know he’s planning the second option. Cause in the end, Buckg was willing to kill for you. Protecting you, if that means wiping an entire continent out. You were his everything and he plans to show you that every day at every hour and every minute.
1K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 4 months
Text
Sub Bucky x reader
In my fucked up phase rn, That’s it, that’s the warning for this. Cause imagine behind closed doors, Bucky turns into a subby, babbling little baby for you, desperate for you to help get rid of that achy feeling between his legs, that special place you never let him play with. 
“Baby boy” you purr, slinking over to the bed, your eyes raking up and down over his very naked body, his leaky cock making a mess all over his tummy. “Are you hard baby”
Bucky whimpered with a nod, squeezing his thighs together to give his balls some relief, gripping his cock tightly in his hand. He wanted to wait for you but he couldn’t, imagining you under the shower, water soaking your body, your delicious body wash covered in soapy bubbles. He tried to ignore the way the image made him leak but before he could stop himself, he’d thrown his clothes off to palm himself. 
“Only naughty boys touch themselves baby, I told you, tell mommy to help you” You brushed your fingers through his soft locks, ignoring his needy pout, walking over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a silver chastity lock. 
“What is it?” Bucky looked at your quizzically with wide puppy eyes, whining at the feeling of the cold metal touching his sensitive cock. He squirmed at the feeling, still trying to be good for you while you tapped his thigh to hold still. 
“It’s to help you bubba” you coo, locking the cage in place, kissing his pouty face.
“Was I bad?” He looked down at his throbbing length, wishing he’d just waited for you instead just like you’d asked. 
“Of course not baby, but I don’t want you hurting yourself, you gotta be gentle when you touch yourself there, right?” 
“But-
“Shh, you’re my good boy, aren’t you?” You leave him high and dry, slinking off to the vanity and grabbing your body lotion, rubbing it between your palms before slathering it onto your skin. 
It makes everything so much worse. 
Imagine you find him whimpering and whining, playing himself through the cage, palming and tugging whatever he could touch. He lets out a frustrated huff, precum making his plush thighs sticky while start to lotion your breasts, smirking as you give them a squeeze making him nearly cry. 
“What’s wrong baby”
“It’s too tight” Bucky whined, the head of his very pink cock and nearly bursting out with how hard he was. “Thingy is too big to fit, hurts mommy” 
“Aww baby c’mhere” You decided to give into his neediness, your own cunt soaked and fluttering with how greedy and desperate he was. You took the key and unlocked the chastity cage, smirking at the whimper he let out, his cock instantly hard, the tip already wet. 
“Mommy-
“Shh, you don’t want others to see how naughty you are baby” You grip the base of his cock, rolling his heavy balls in your hand, leaning over to flick your tongue over his slit making him moan, another spurt of precum dribbling out. “What have I said about your special place” You ask him softly while giving him long, languid strokes, loving the way his eyes roll back, trembling on the sheets. 
“Only-only you can touch me”
“Good boy” You hum, jerking him off until he’s nearly in tears, making him hold it while you straddle him and impale yourself on his cock. He can barely control himself while you slam yourself up and down  on him, struggling to keep his hips from moving, wanting to thrust up into you and cum for minutes on end. 
“Fuck mommy!” He cries out, tears streaking his cheeks, pawing at your breasts as they bounce above his face, “I wanna cum, wanna cum so bad” Only you can make him lose it like this, only you’re allowed to make him feel good, all of his self-restraint slipping as you clench around him. 
“Yeah baby? Wanna cum in mommy? Does your special place feel all tingly now?” you coo, reaching behind to tug his balls and his jaw falls open with he most guttural, primal moan he can muster, your hips riding him faster, “Go on sweet boy, you can cum, let mommy take care of that achy feeling baby, make yourself feel good” 
He wails with pleasure as he starts to thrust up, only getting in two sloppy strokes before emptying himself in you, his cream covering his shaft and balls, dripping down his ass and onto the bed. 
I’m driving myself feral with what would happen you caught him masturbating. He held off as long as he could, but he can’t get rid of the feeling and he needs to take care of it right now. He doesn’t care that you caught him while he was tugging at himself, one hand cupping his balls, pulling and palming them while the other strokes his cock. You shook your head disapprovingly but he can’t stop. 
“But it was so hard mama” He pouts, spreading his legs further to show you, “See?” He bucks his hips up slightly for emphasis, giving you a shameless view of his heavy cock and balls and cute perky ass, “S’too full” 
Just imagine his soft little squeals of pleasure when he lets go of all restrains and rubs himself all over your bed. His face is buried in your pillow, all clothes on the floor, his hips rolling and grinding on the mattress. He can only take so much, eventually shoving the pillow between his legs, humping himself like a puppy in heat till its soaked with cum. He loves how soft it feels on his dick, pressing it harder against him in different positions, his favorite being on his back while he holds it down and rubs himself on it. 
He doesn’t stop until the sheets have to be changed. 
“What did you do baby” You cocked an eyebrow, the scent of sex and his self pleasure making your body feel hot, ready to punish him until hes begging you to stop. 
“I-I-” He struggles to meet your eye, caught with your pillow shoved between his legs, whining when you pull it again to reveal his spent cock, stick cum glistening all over his skin. “I didn’t mean to, my thingy had too much cum mommy” 
“Aww, my baby’s special place was all tingly again?” 
“So tingly, mommy, look” He spreads his legs for you again and it makes your belly clench each time. He was such a needy, horny little fuck, always ready to present himself to you, letting you play with his special place whenever you wanted. You coo at his apologetic pout, reaching over to give his soft cock a squeeze, loving the high pitched whine he lets out, now overly sensitive from his many orgasms. A steady dribble continues to weep from the tip and you lean over to take him in your mouth, making him shudder. 
“Looks like you’re not empty yet baby” you continue to lick and tease him, milking him dry till there’s not a drop left-
I apologize but I did say this was my fucked up phase, so if you made it this far, this is on both of us. 
1K notes · View notes
cameronspecial · 2 months
Text
Let Me Prove You Wrong, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Insecurities About Weight Gain
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
Summary: After finding out her dress doesn't fit, Y/N starts to feel insecure and Rafe wants to get rid of those thoughts.
A/N: Insipred by this post.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Y/N doesn’t feel insecure often. With someone like Rafe around, it is hard to feel that way with his constant praise. One sight at the doubt of her brilliance and he would literally shut down the whole world until she realized she was the best person ever to exist. As she gets ready for a date with him, she tries zipping up the zipper of her dress, yet it won’t budge. She grows frustrated at the lack of advancement, concluding that she won’t be able to do so because she must have gained some weight. Tears start to bubble at the corner of her eyes, more so that the dress that she adores is no longer in commission for her than the actual weight. It was the dress she wore on her first date with Rafe and she knew how much he loved the dress. She didn’t realize she was taking so long to get dressed until Rafe came up to check on her. Finding his angel on the ground crying is the scariest thing to him. He has no idea what happened or if she is hurt. He rushes to her side and brings her onto his lap. He brushes her hair behind her ear with a kiss on her cheek, “What’s wrong, Angel? Are you hurt?” “No, my dress doesn’t fit anymore,” she whimpers, shoving her head into his neck. He looks at the fallen dress on the floor, “It’s okay. We can pick out another dress for you to wear tonight.” “If that one doesn’t fit, then I doubt the others are going to fit,” she argues. 
“Well, then I’ll cancel our reservations. We can order the greasiest foods I can find and watch the After movies you’ve been wanting to watch.” 
“No, I have to go on a diet. I’ve gotten fatter.” 
Rafe immediately pushes away to look her in the eyes and shakes his head. “No. No. No. Don’t say it like that, Angel. I won’t say that you gained weight or not because we won’t know unless we use a scale, which we aren’t going to do. So we don’t know if the dress doesn’t fit because it shrank or something,” he begins. “But even if you are the reason the dress doesn’t fit, then it doesn’t matter. Because you will still be the most amazing girl in the world. Do you know that it’s been proven the more you gain weight after entering the relationship, the happier you are in it? Weight fluctuation is a perfectly normal thing.” Her head moves from side to side, “If it’s normal then how come you didn’t gain weight too? Are you not happy in our relationship?” “I am ecstatic about our relationship and I can’t tell you why I haven’t gained weight, but if it would make you happy, then I would gain all the pounds in the world to show you how happy I am,” he responds, tucking her back into his side with a kiss to her forehead. She giggles a little, “No, you don’t need to gain weight for me. If you gained all the pounds in the world, I would be worried about your health. I’m just disappointed you won’t be able to give me piggyback rides anymore.” “I will never stop being able to give you piggyback rides,” he scoffs, falling back so he is lying flat on the ground.
He turns her so she is perpendicular against his chest and his hands go under her body. “What are you doing?” she questions at the sudden change of position. He pushes upward, “Let me prove you wrong, Angel.” Y/N is suddenly in the air thanks to his hand movement. His arms don’t even shake a little bit as he leaves her there for a few seconds before he brings his arms back so they are bent. He continues to bring her open and down in his reps until she ceases the point he is trying to make. “Okay. Okay. I get the point. Can you put me down now, please? I’m starting to get lightheaded,” she begs. He brings her back down so she is straddling his hips. “I will always be able to give you piggyback rides and then the moment that I am not going to be able to is when I am going to be a hundred years old with fragile little bones,” he promises, kissing her lips. 
She nods, “I believe you. Can we get something to eat now? I’m hungry.” “Of course, Let’s get some burgers. I want to see how pretty you look wearing my shirt and sweatpants and those are definitely not appropriate for the restaurant,” he informs. He shrugs off his suit jacket and goes to his dresser to get them a change of clothes. 
———
The next day, when she gets back from class, she finds about ten new dresses in her closet. They are all identical to the one she couldn’t put on yesterday, just five are sizes bigger and the others are sizes smaller. She picks up the note on the one that is a size up from her original dress. So you can always wear your favourite dress. I can easily order more if you need them because there is an infinite of these dresses out there, but only one you. I love you, Angel.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
635 notes · View notes
eternalxvenus · 14 days
Text
⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)
cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)
wc: 1.2k
notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)
previous chapters: part 1
Tumblr media
You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.
After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.
You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.
"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."
You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.
You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."
Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.
"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."
"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"
Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."
Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."
"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 
This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.
"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."
You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.
You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.
"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"
He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."
"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."
He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."
You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"
He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"
"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"
He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 
You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.
"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."
"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."
"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."
You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."
"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.
Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.
You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.
Rafe: of course, goodnight
You: goodnight
Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 
As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.
Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.
part 3
Tumblr media
likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!
taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe
786 notes · View notes
eagerbby · 2 years
Text
ʙᴏᴏ? - ᴇ.ᴍ
Tumblr media
pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader
synopsis| It was supposed to be a joke, payback, revenge, until it spiraled completely out of control. Just your luck.
an| inspired by the prompt "I hid in your closet to scare you as a joke but when you came in you started masturbating and I can't just get up and leave but if I get caught in your closet you'll think I'm a pervert I regret my life choices" from here. my brainrot is thriving.
warnings| 3k, masturbating (m), reader being a perv obvi, illusions to sex, 18+ folks
part 2
Tumblr media
It escalated quickly; too quickly to even process what you were doing, and what you were doing wasn’t even a good idea to begin with, but it was the only thing you could think of. 
The Hellfire Club was currently in the midst of a rather heated prank war, started of course by their relentless leader himself, and you had slowly been dragged into the cruel web he had begun to weave three weeks ago. 
It was annoying at first, Eddie jump scaring you every chance he could. Jumping out from behind the cafeteria doors, slamming his hand against the locker next to yours while you were in deep thought digging through your own locker, or four days ago when he hid in the backseat of your car only to reveal himself once you’d hit five over the speed limit on the main road home; you almost crashed your car that day because of him. 
He was a menace and although the other guys had it much worse than you, Eddie seemed to take more pleasure from simply spooking you. But at least it wasn’t shaving cream in your book bag like poor Gareth or when he stole the chains off Mike and Dustin’s bikes before school ended leaving them stranded -although he did give them a ride home after they got down and praised King Eddie- in hindsight you were getting off pretty easy in comparison.
But still, that last prank got to you, the seriousness of almost wrecking had scared you shitless. Enough that you had to pull over on the side of the road, trying not to break down in front of him. He had felt bad, you could see it on his face as he tumbled into the front seat and begged you to not cry, but you were just so mad you kicked him out of your car and drove off.
That’s how your little plan came to fruition. You skipped your last period just to make sure you’d beat him to his cozy little trailer on the outskirts of town, greeting his uncle Wayne as you ducked under his arm and into the living room. 
“Whatcha doin’, kiddo?” He asked, blue eyes narrowed in amusement. 
“Gonna scare the shit outta your devious little shit of a nephew.” You say simply as you fill a glass with cold water from the tap. 
Wayne catches the wild glint in your eye, the mirror image of the one his nephew harbors in his own big brown ones. The older man could only shake his head, muted blue eyes dancing with amusement as he said..
“Give him hell, dollface.” Before he’s headed down the porch steps to his beat up Chevy truck. 
Which brings you to right now, stuffed tight in Eddie’s messy closet, the fake fur of his creepy Alf costume tickling the back of your neck, your heart thudding loudly in your chest when you finally hear the loud wail of metal and the screeching of tires against gravel. 
There isn’t much to your plan here other than jump out and make him scream. Make him regret fucking with you so hard the past three weeks. You’ve been giving him the cold shoulder since you both almost died -he’s lucky you had just got your brakes changed, a week earlier and you both would have been seriously hurt- which meant he wouldn’t be expecting your revenge, instead thinking you were still pissed. Which you kinda were, but he didn’t make it easy. He’d been groveling nonstop since it happened, bringing you little presents in hopes you’d forgive him, and you had but you still wanted revenge.
You hear him as he bounds up the steps, humming to himself, he slings the front door open followed by the sound of the lock clicking in place. Your fingers tremble in anticipation, adrenaline bleeding heavily from your pores. It’s unbearably stuffy in his little closet, sweat beading on your forehead and between your breasts, and the only light comes from a crack in the sliding door giving you a full view of his mirror. You can see him in its reflection, coming down the hall with his wild hair bouncing around his shoulders, eyes locked onto the cassette in his hands. 
He enters his cramped bedroom and goes straight to his tape deck, the pink tip of his tongue trapped between plush lips as he stuffs the tape in and hits play, surprisingly turning the sound to a reasonable volume. As the music softly spills from the speakers he shrugs out of his denim vest and jacket combo, pulling his black tattered Iron Maiden shirt with the sleeves haphazardly cut off over his head. As he tosses it to the floor, the lyrics of the song he’s skipped to floods your ears. You know this song, love this song, fuck, you showed him this song. He’s humming along to it as he kicks off his sneakers, shimmies out of his black ripped jeans, calloused fingertips gliding gently down his soft tummy into the waistband of his boxers. 
Okay, what the fuck. You clamp your eyes shut before you can see too much. This is absolutely, positively, not part of your plan. His bed springs groan as the lyrics echo around his room and you sit in his closet with your hands over your eyes trying not to breathe too loud. 
Let's get away, just for one day,
Let me see you stripped down to the bone.
It was your Depeche Mode cassette, the one you’d lost a couple weeks ago and tore your room and car apart in a frenzy to find. You never did and now you know why; because you dear friend Eddie had stolen it.
Fuck this, you think to yourself as you raise off your feet in the cramped space. You’re about to bust out, ask him why he sat there and listened to you whine for days about your missing tape knowing full well he had it, when you hear something that makes your body freeze. 
It’s soft, gentle as a breeze, but loud enough to still hear over the song playing from his speakers. A moan, shaky and almost desperate, and you can’t help when you peek out the slit of the door and catch sight of him in the mirror. Your mouth goes dry, eyes so wide they must be bugging out of your head, you’re looking into a mirror except you can’t see yourself, no, but you can see him and the sight is fucking beautiful. 
Eddie’s laid out long ways across his bed, bare feet planted on the shag carpet just a couple feet from your hiding spot in the closet, his eyes are closed and his fist is wrapped tightly around the head of his cock. 
“O-oh f-fuuck.” He whines, thumb dragging across his weeping slit, smearing the precum that beads there across the red mushroom head of his rather thick cock. Jesus, you had shamefully imagined what he was packing under those tight pants he always wore, usually alone at night in your bed, but never did you think you’d actually see it. Especially not like this. 
Oh, this is wrong, so fucking wrong. You shouldn’t be here right now watching him thrust up slowly into his cock, shouldn’t lick your lips as he roams his hands over his bare chest, his fingers tweaking a nipple making his cock visibly twitch at the sensation. You shouldn’t be wet between your legs, squeezing your thighs together as best you can without moving much or making any noise. This is perverted, sick and twisted, a complete violation of Eddie’s privacy, but what are you supposed to do? You should have jumped out as soon as he came in, should have stopped him as soon as he got his shirt off, but instead you stayed frozen in place among Eddie’s clothes and now it was too late. You couldn’t just cover your eyes and leave, no that’d be horrifying for the both of you. Which left only one option; wait for him to finish and hope to a God you weren’t sure you believed in that he leaves right after. 
But that’s also a problem because you can’t not hear the pretty moans that fall from his lips. Can’t ignore the way the bed frame creaks as his hips pick up a steady pace. Can’t stop looking into that stupid fucking mirror and biting your lip at the sight of him completely lost in his pleasure. 
You are so going to hell.
“Oh, fuck, baby. J-just like that.” 
Your pussy floods at just the mere sound of his voice, clouded with lust and his impending orgasm. You can see how close he is, his tummy flexing hard as his hand fucks his cock faster. He isn’t gentle with himself, not like before, fucking his fist with fast sloppy thrusts of his hips as he presses his head back into his ruffled sheets. You can’t peel your eyes from him, can’t stop the constant squeeze of your thighs as your body begs for some kind of friction. And you definitely can’t stop the looming thought that if you get caught Eddie will probably never talk to you again. 
You wouldn’t blame him. 
There’s a new song playing but you can’t really hear it, aren’t even paying attention, not when Eddie shifts up to lean on one elbow to watch himself work. He gasps at a rather rough flick of his wrist, biting his lip as his eyes flutter closed, his long black lashes dancing across his pale skin. You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, watching intently through the mirror. 
You watched porn before but this, this was better than anything you’ve ever seen, and if you weren’t such a coward -and if you weren’t hiding in his fucking closet- you’d fall to your knees in front of him. Beg him to come all over your face, down your throat, in your tight pussy. You’d find your filthiest words, bat your eyes all innocent, drag your nails over his hairy thighs, just to see him cum. To watch his face scrunch up and mouth fall slack as he painted you all pretty in his hot seed. 
Yeah, if you didn’t get caught -and probably still if you did- you were so using the sight of your best friend fucking his fist to get off later. 
Maybe you were a pervert after all. 
Eddie’s moans are getting louder, hot breathy noises falling from his bitten lips, he’s visibly having a hard time keeping his eyes open, obviously lost in whatever scenario he is conjuring up behind his eyes. Your hands were gripping the fabric of your skirt as tight as you can, trying your best to restrain from shoving your hand underneath and thrusting your finger deep inside your tight, wanting, hole. His fingers would feel so much better, long and thin, you know they must be talented considering how good he is with a guitar. All this thinking has your chest heaving, hands shaking, breathing slowly in and out of your nose. You can feel your willpower slipping away, gone without a trace, you need him to hurry up. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to handle this much longer. 
But then Eddie says something so out of left field, so far from anything you’ve ever heard come from his mouth, that your brain completely malfunctions. 
“Just like that, y/n. I wanna be inside you so bad, baby.” It’s all a tangled whine, your name a quivered pant, and you gasp so loudly you make yourself jump, backing up deep into his closet as you watch his head spring up. 
Silence. Horrible, retched, silence as you cover your mouth with a shaky hand and close your now watery eyes. He heard you, you know it, and now all the heat and blood have left your aching core to wash over the apples of your cheeks. Hot like lava, the embarrassment of being caught doing something so wrong makes your eyes water. 
He’s never gonna speak to you again. 
There’s a click as the tape deck stops and then the drag of his closet door sliding open and you want to drop dead where you stand. 
“Y/n” Eddie asks, all quiet and gravelly, arousal still heavy in his throat. You can’t look at him, can’t dare raise your eyes away from your feet. 
“Boo?” Out of all the things you wanted to say, that was the only word to come out, soft as a whisper.
“W-What are you doing?” Good question, you think. What the fuck are you doing? 
“It’s not what you think.” You say quickly with a dark humorless chuckle, eyes bouncing to his before you completely fucking regret it and lower them back to the floor. He looks too good right now with his pupils blown wide and a sheen of sweat on his bewildered face. “I was go-gonna get you back for scaring me so much, but then you started…” You gesture your hand in the direction of his cock, braving a quick glimpse before slamming your eyes shut. He’s still naked, standing in front of you with a pillow covering his bare waist, and it’s just too much. 
“How much d-did you hear?” He asks softly, shuffling from foot to foot as he scratches the back of his neck. His nervous tick. 
“Uhm, well, not… not a lot…” It’s kinda comical how unbelievable you sound and Eddie must think so too because he huffs out a laugh as he backs up to his bed, plopping down on the side of it and adjusting his pillow shield.
“So you heard everything then. Fucking fantastic.” You step out of the closet finally, shuffling quietly against the carpet as you close the door back and face him, hands clasped together in front of your chest.
“Are- Do you hate me now, Eds?” You ask, perturbed, fiddling with the black and red yarn bracelet around your wrist. The same one Eddie wore; a friendship bracelet he’d given to you after the first time you’d hung out one on one.  
Eddie seems puzzled by your question, going to stand before he quickly realizes he’s only wearing a pillow. “Wait a second, will ya?” He asks and you nod covering your eyes as if you hadn’t just been watching him jerk off. When he's done, presumably getting dressed, he taps your elbow and when you don’t uncover your face, he grips your forearms softly and guides them away. He offers you a friendly smile when you meet his doe eyes. 
“I don’t hate you.” He says softly, the heat of his fingers leave goosebumps on your skin.
“I would.” You mumble, shifting from one foot to the other. 
“I thought you were mad at me?” He asks, trying to catch your eye but you’re too busy counting the tears in your worn out converse. 
“M not mad. I just wanted to get you back.” You offer and out of the corner of your eye you can see him nod. 
“Glad you’re not mad still.” He says and then, “How’d you get in, sweetheart?” 
“Wayne let me in, before he left. I skipped last period to get here before you. I swear, Eddie, I only wanted to jump scare you like you’ve been doing to me for the past month, I-I didn’t- I didn’t know what to do when you started..” 
“Hey,” He chirps, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, and you try not to think about where that hand just was because if you do you’re gonna start thinking about the sounds he made while it was wrapped tight around his- no stop it. 
Even in the middle of the most embarrassing conversation you’ve ever had, your thoughts betray you with images of his hot, rock hard, cock. 
“It’s no biggie, really. I should have figured something was up, Wayne never leaves the door unlocked.” He’s fucking smiling at you now, a full smile that shows his teeth and crinkles the corners of his eyes and for some reason unknown to you; it really irritates you.
“No biggie?” You cry, pushing him away from you, and his face falls but you can’t handle him being so close to you right now. “You just caught me spying on you while you jerked off, but it’s no biggie?”
“Yeah, no biggie. No big deal.” Eddie draws out his words, hand rolling in the air as he elaborates. “I’m not mad at you. No biggie.” 
“Eddie, I feel like such a perv-” You start, eyes still watery with shame, but Eddie cuts you off. 
“You literally watched me jerk my dick while thinking about you, I think we’re both falling pretty hard on the pervert line here, sweetheart.”
You look him in the eye, finally, trying to judge if he truly means what he says. You find honesty, and something else you can���t quite decipher, with his gaze locked onto you and you nod and give him an unsteady smile before sinking onto the edge of his bed. 
“‘M sorry.” You tell him. “Really.” 
Eddie shakes his head, sitting down next to you in only his boxers, and places a hand on your bare knee. That fire surges again, deep in your bones, shooting through you like a bullet at the small contact.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m no worse for wear because of it. Kinda-” He trails off for a moment, reaches back to scratch at his neck again. “Kinda hot thinking about you watching me without me even knowing.” 
Oh. Oh. 
You really should have figured he’d be into it. Little freak. 
“Was kinda hot watching you…” You offer shyly, biting your lip as Eddie beams at you.
“Yeah?” He asks, his nose scrunching up all cutely as his cheeks flush.
“Mhm, you know I’ve had a crush on you since, like, forever right?” 
“Okay, don’t fuck with me like that.” He warns, umber eyes searching your smiling face. 
“Not lying.” It’s simple, matter of fact. Eddie blushes even deeper. 
“Well, fuck.” He runs a hand over his face, unable to wipe the cheesy smile from his lips. “I guess I don’t have to tell you I feel the same, huh?” 
You laugh at this, leaning your head onto his bare shoulder. “No, I think I got the message in technicolor. You could put the porn industry to shame, Eddie.” 
“You’re gonna give me a big head, sweetheart.” 
“You already have one, Eddie.” You say, eyes falling to his lap. 
Eddie chokes out a laugh in disbelief, shoving you back onto the bed to hover over you. 
“You’re a little minx, aren’t you? Who woulda thought.” He teases with his face buried in your neck, lips ghosting across the sensitive skin there. 
“Don’t you have Hellfire Club or something, you horn dog?” You ask acerbically and yet you still push your hips up to meet his when he bites down on your jugular. 
“Mhm, they can wait. Found something better than playing D&D in a cluttered theater room.” He hums against you, lips following the curve of your jaw with feather light kisses. 
“The guys would kill me if I was the reason you didn’t finish the campaign tonight.” You push him back by the shoulders smiling up at him as he watches you giggle at the sight of his bangs lifted up off his forehead. 
“I can always just kill them all, they’ll be more mad about that.” He dives back to your neck, sucking and licking every inch of skin he can find, and as much as you want to stay here in his bed and fuck like bunnies; you’d hate to be the reason he was late. So you push him again, harder this time, until he rolls off you with a groan, slamming his fists into the mattress as you stand. 
“You know I never got to cum, right? I’m aching right now, need you to help take my pain away, baby.” He’s pouting, lips jutted out, eyes like a puppy, and everything in you is screaming to give in to his guilt trip, help this poor helpless man out. 
But that wouldn’t be any fun. So you lean over him, hands on either side of his head, and kiss him slowly. Mold your lips against his, drag your teeth sensually over his bottom lip, give him the most sultry look you can muster. It must work because his whole body shudders under your, desperate hands snaking up your skirt to grab your ass.
“Go to Hellfire, Eddie.” He groans at your words in disappointment, head falling back into his sheets. 
“You’re mean.” He whines, slapping his hand firmly onto your ass cheek. You hiss at the pain that ebbs to pleasure and take his jaw in your hand, forcing him to look at you again. 
“You didn’t let me finish. Go to Hellfire and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you a helping hand after.” You lean down, tongue grazing the shell of his ear before whispering, “A helping hand, an open mouth, a tight wet pussy.” 
Another shiver and his hand gripping tight on the back of your neck pulling you up so you can see his wicked, lopsided, grin.
“That’s not helping my little problem, baby.”
You giggle. “There’s nothing little about your problem, Eds.” 
Eddie groans loudly, covering his face with the back of his arm but you’re swatting it away, giggling at his fiery red cheeks. You shower his face with kisses, every inch of rosy skin, until he's pulling you into his chest and caressing the edge of your jaw as he gazes at you with stars in his eyes.  
The look in his eyes tells you your friendship is no longer that, instead there's a promise lying in his shimmering irises, something that was always there but you could never figure out the meaning to it. Maybe you were always destined to be more than friends, maybe this crazy -fucking bizarre- series of events was fated. You and Eddie, not as friends but as something more. Maybe the two of you were written in the fucking stars or something. 
You’d like to find out.
So you kiss him once more, different than before, savoring the way he follows after your lips, how he cradles your head so tenderly as he kisses you back with the same fervor. Too soon you’re climbing off of him, smoothing out the pleats of your black checkered skirt as he watches with that endearing little pout. 
“Lets go, Dungeon Master, the masses await thee.” He takes your outstretched hand, raising to his feet. He looks down at himself, in only his green boxers, and smiles at you all cheekily. 
“Think they’d still respect me if I showed up like this?” 
You pick his jeans up off the floor and place them in his hands. “Mm, probably not. But I’ll help you get undressed later, like I said, helping hand and all.” 
“Fuck, my little minx.” 
12K notes · View notes
lyneira · 11 months
Text
-> random, smutty headcanons of the hsr men that have been plaguing my mind
Tumblr media
SMUT - MINORS DNI
fem!reader x gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, sampo
cw: body worship, cunnilingus, tiddy sucking, 69, praise kink, penetration, implied creampie
Tumblr media
GEPARD
I see Gepard being into body worship 'cause heck, he would kiss the ground you walk on in general. This dude would be such a devoted lover.
During love making, he would be so slow and careful with you, especially if it was your first time with him.
He'd leave kisses all over your body, and would stop at your most sensitive spots to give them the extra affection that they deserved.
Fondling your breasts, he'd lean down to circle his tongue around one of the buds, before puckering his lips to suck on it. And as he sucked, he'd softly moan, muttering how soft they were.
Then, trailing a line of kisses down your stomach and down to your heat, he'll place a quick kiss to your clit before sliding his tongue up and down your folds and finally inserting the wet muscle into your hole.
He'd most definitely take a lot of time down there too, taking the time savor your flavor and letting his lips become accustomed to the shape of your lower ones. Look down at his face and see how flushed his cheeks would be, hot from the heat and hot from the drunkeness he has from your pussy, humming with delight and slurring out multiple, "you taste so good's"
He too, would especially be diligent with observing each of your own reactions you had to his touch, his kisses, his tongue, and to his thrusts that would caress your walls and deeply kiss your core with each stroke.
To any sharp gasp, furrow of your brows, or any cry that you'd let out, he'd immediately pause his motions and ask if you were okay. The last thing he would ever want to do in such a vulnerable and intimate activity would be to hurt you.
Let's be honest, with the way he would be touching and fucking you slowly and gently, none of your reactions would be derived from any real pain. So you must assure him they were simply from the pleasure he was giving you.
Encourage him not to hold back, and assure him that it's okay. You'll say the safeword if you truly are in pain anyway.
And lord when he no longer restricts himself from all of the love he wants to give you at last, you'll feel it.
His motions will become much quicker, and much eager. He's sure to shake the bed a lot with all the speed and pressure he's thrusting into you, lol.
Prior to this, he had never been really vocal about his carnal desires. He'd probably think that they were improper and might give you the impression that he was a lech.
Yet, now that you've given him reassurance, he'll be comfortable enough to let you know all of the numerous positions he wants to make love to you in; how he wants to feel the weight of your legs hanging over his shoulders, wanting to feel the way you squeeze around him so tightly, and feel the way you'd release yourself all over him.
With all of the various ways a person can show love to another, his desire is to try and do all of them. He love you that much and wants to make sure you know it.
On that note, I also see him as the type to chant multiple, "I love you's", when he's close to cumming. And if he can, he'd hold you tightly, needing to feel you in his arms as he finally releases.
I'd also like to add that he probably has a praise kink. Idk, I just feel it in my bones. To show him appreciation for what he does and how good he's doing would make him so happy, both inside and outside of the bedroom.
Tumblr media
JING YUAN
'Kay I honestly don't know much about him (as I still haven't gotten too far into the story) but I think he'd be the type to enjoy having you do most of the work in bed...at first
He'll enjoy you sucking him off and riding him while he simply lays back, eyes half-lidded, wrapped up in pleasure, and letting out occasional, guttural groans
But the moment you feel your legs giving out from bouncing on his cock for so long, he will be there to take over. His hands will immediately be at your hips, and he'll lean over to your ear, whispering lowly, "You did well, darling... allow me to take care of the rest". He'll have a smile on his face as he ponders over what he has in store for you.
And before you can move or say a word, he'll then continue to thrust up into you while slamming your hips down at the same time so that his cock penetrates the deepest part of your core.
You'll let out a sharp gasp and would instinctively grab hold of his shoulders as it felt like he was splitting you open with each thrust
He'll continue to fuck you with that sheer amount of force, that your body eventually gives in and he's fucking you as if you were a ragdoll.
Anyway, I think he'd be a big fan of 69, with him lying down and you on top of him. Whatever your weight is, it won't matter. He'll be able hold you up while eating you out and relishing the way you'd suck his dick.
Tumblr media
SAMPO
He looks like the type that is determined to make you cry and whimper during the act, but in actuality, I think he'll be crying and whimpering by the end of it too LOL
During sex, he'll like to taunt you by denying you your orgasm, often pleasuring you with his tongue and quickly pulling it back when he knows you're close.
He will be borderline humiliating you, saying things like, "Aw, can't take it anymore? Does my little slut want to cum? Well, you'll have to beg for it, sweetie" while massaging your inner thighs, knowing how it gets you even more worked up
But don't worry, you'll have your chance for revenge when you're riding him. Simply insert the tip of his cock inside of you, and sure, slide up and down it a bit, but nothing more. The way your walls squeeze him so deliciously will make him try to thrust up as he'd need more stimulation, but don't allow him to. That's when you'll be able to make him beg as well
Tumblr media
DAN HENG
Love-making with Dan Heng would be special. Rarely is he ever so willing to be vulnerable like this, giving both of yourselves to each other, both body and soul, but you are so dear to him that he feels safe to do so.
I think sex wouldn't be iniated by carnal desire alone (at least on his part) but would mostly be initiated by his emotional needs, particularly when he needed your comfort, your touch, and your essence; or when he fears of losing you, his desperation will settle in and give him the need to hold you protectively to him; and other than that, like anyone else, he'll do it when words can no longer express how much he loves and adores you.
And depending on which reason, his touches can range from being gentle and soft, to being desperate and needy.
Either way, what will never change is his praises and words of assurance to you. He'll always make sure to tell you how good you feel, how well you're taking him, and how beautiful you are.
He'll tell you all this as he fucks you, and most importantly, he'll ask you if you understand how precious you are to him.
And if you couldn't answer quickly even after all the love he's given you and had thrusted into you, even to the point of overflowing, then he wouldn't stop until he made sure you understood it, continuing on, no matter how long it would take
Tumblr media
a/n: It's clear to see that my favorite is Gepard, haha
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 5 months
Note
The power you’d have over me if u wrote for anakin<3
𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑀𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃! 𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝓀𝓎𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝓇 ♡
Cw: mentions of blood, fem! Reader, nsfw . light dubcon, spanking, praise, anal and vaginal fingering, p n v, riding, spit kink, creampie, breeding
A/N: confession: I don’t watch Star Wars. pls don’t come for me. but Hayden Christensen is so FINE omfg bro and the modern punk version of anakin got me on my knees 🧎🏼‍♀️
Tumblr media
It’s not hard for you to become pliant underneath your boyfriend— his nurturing demeanor and soft gaze even as he demands you to bend over his knee has your panties soaking and your brain becoming fuzzy, that familiar headspace sinking in and making you want to please him as much as you can.
It had started with your minor attitude problems throughout the day, but when you had begun to pout, and then secretly stole away Anakin’s credit card to buy a new (expensive) dress, it was the last straw. And now, as his ring clad fingers grip your hips and bend you over his knee, you’re practically quivering under his authority.
“What did I tell you, you fucking brat?” Anakin growls, as he lifts up your pretty pink skirt. He pays no mind to your panties as his hand lands down on your cheek, hard. You squeal, beginning to try and crawl off his lap— an attempt at running away, to the best of your ability. But the boy just throws you back in place and slaps you even harder.
“Don’t you run away from me. This is your punishment.”
“But I jus’..” you hiccup, wriggling against his thighs and hardened cock below you. Oh, to have the thick length in your mouth, to have a bulge forming in your throat from how tightly he fucks against you. “I jus’ wanted you to pay attention to me. You haven’t paid attention to me all day!”
“And that gives you the excuse to act like a brat?” He tsks, grabbing the fabric of your thong and pulling it taut in between your asscheeks. It hurts, but the pressure forming on your little clit from the fabric bunching up makes you let out a tiny mewl. “No, no, baby. That’s not the deal we’ve made here. If you’re good, you get rewarded. But you haven’t been good, have you?”
You want so badly to convince him: yes. yes, I’ve been a good girl, but you still didn’t give me your cock inside me. It isn’t fair!
But alas, you shake your head, decided that agreeing with the boy is your best option. Anakin grabs the sides of your thong and slides it down your thighs. More access, more skin to redden. His palm comes down on you again. It’s light, but that only means that the next one is going to be even harder than the last one he had given you.
And you were right. With almost all the strength he can muster (though not too much; he doesn’t want to hurt you incredibly), his hand comes down on your backside with a mighty force. You lurch forward, a pained moan ripping through your throat. He does it again, hard. Again, hard. Again— and again. Your cunt aches and throbs.
“Ani,” you sob. “Please— please, Ani, ‘m so sorry, sir! No more, please ..”
Anakin hesitates. But only for a moment; if this were to become too much he knows that a safe word would be spewing from your lip gloss coated lips. He exhales sharply.
“Three more.” He states gruffly.
You almost begin to cry even harder at those words. Anakin raises his hand, and slaps both cheeks. That must count as one strike instead of two. You writhe, and tears coat your cheeks and mascara runs down your face as he leaves welts on your skin. The next one is almost harder than the last, if possible, and a yell pierced through your throat at the sting. He may have drawn blood— you don’t really know, but it wouldn’t be the first time. But it’s okay. It’s okay because it’s your Ani, and Ani only does what’s best for you, and Ani gives you your punishments and no one else does. It’s so insanely bittersweet.
Anakin rubs your cheeks and soothes them with his palms. He softly whispers, “this okay, angel? Too much?” Because he’s just caring like that, and of course you shake your head and beg him to hit you again. It’s the last hit, and he takes his time and builds suspension before hitting your bruised skin one last time. Mewling, you let out a small, “Ani.. hurts.”
His fingers trace your cheeks, admiring the hand marks left there.
“You did good, sweet girl,” he coos. “So, so good. I think you deserve to cum now.”
You keen, nodding your head aggressively at his suggestion. You move your leg off in an attempt to open them wider. Anakin leans down and kisses both cheeks.
And then, with gentle hands, he pulls them apart, exposing your pussy and asshole to him. Oh, his two most favorite places in the world to rest in. He circles his thumb around your puckered asshole, and then spits down into the crack of your ass. You whimper and clench around nothing at this feeling, and Anakin slides his thumb into you. He thrusts it in, out, in, out. It burns, makes you tighten and heave. Then with his other hand he goes down to pat your swollen pussy lightly. He slides a finger against your folds.
“Wet little thing,” he murmurs. “All for me?”
You nod, pushing yourself up against his touch as he continuously pummels your asshole with his thumb .
“All f’ you, sir.” You reply.
“Good.”
He rubs your swollen little nub between two of his fingers. You cry out at the stimulation on your bundle of nerves. He slides a finger against your slit and back up again.
“Such a cute little hole.” he grunts. You don’t know if he’s referring to your pussy or the way your asshole has his thumb in a tight grip. He slides it out and then uses your mouth to wet his middle and ring finger. He slips his middle finger back into your soft ring of muscle and begins to thrust it harder. His ring finger on his other hand slips into your throbbing entrance. Wet sloshing sounds echo from your warm snatch as Anakin speeds up the pace of both of his fingers. Your eyes are practically rolling back in your head, and you bring your hands back to grab his wrist connecting to the fingers in your back entrance. It’s not in a way to slow him down, but more to speed him up; you help him move his fingers at an even faster pace.
“Yeah, you like that?” Anakin spits, watching your desperation. “My fingers feel good in your tight little ass, baby?”
“Yes, nghhh—“ his thigh rocks underneath you, as a way to relieve some of the tension in his aching cock. Remembering that this isn’t even the best part— that Anakin’s cock is still something he has to give to you, it makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I love your fingers inside me, daddy!”
“Yeah, you little whore. Little holes are clenching so tight baby, fuck—“ he groans, beginning to fuck up from underneath you. His jeans pressing against his cock makes him ache even more. “— shit, need to fuck this little pussy so bad..”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. In an effort to get up, you grab his wrist from behind once again and slowly pull them out of you. Understanding what you’re trying to do, Anakin is quick to slip his fingers out of your pussy, too. You stand up on wobbly feet and slip your panties completely off of yourself. Anakin watches as your hands nimbly begin to unbuckle his belt. He bites his lower lip at the sight of your nipples that have become stiff with all of his attention. You pull his cock out, a small sigh escaping you as you see the pre cum leaking from the head. You straddle his thighs; his mouth drops open at the feeling of your bare pussy lips brushing against his girthy length. And with his glazed over eyes never leaving yours, you sink down onto him.
Your thighs practically shake as he fills you, your mouth dropping open just as his has. He stretches you out roughly, a burn starting in your core, but you don’t care. You begin to slam yourself up and down on his cock. Anakin is practically hypnotized by the way your tits bounce up and down in front of him.
“Good girl, baby.” He praises. You moan when his hands grip your sore cheeks. “Yeah, ride that fuckin’ cock. That’s it, honey..”
Skin on skin is the only thing heard in the room, the wet slapping sounds making your pussy gush on him. He thrusts up from underneath you, making you gasp. He does it again, and this time your face falls into his neck. He grips your cheeks tightly, spreads them apart, and slips his finger back inside.
“Oh—“
Your pussy clenches, and Anakin begins to pummel your pussy with desperation. His balls slap against your thighs.
“Such a tight little pussy.. always so creamy and wet for daddy, arent you? Fuck yeah, you are. Ride my fuckin’ cock, bitch, yeah.”
It’s all that can spew from Anakin’s lips as your cunt envelopes him. He can’t take it anymore, and with his strong arms he lifts your body up and wraps your arms around his waist. Squealing, you wrap your arms around his neck in an effort to hold yourself up. He goes over to the desk beside his bed, making room by swiping useless objects off with one hand. He places you on top of the table, beginning to fuck you again. Your cheeks sting from the feeling of the wood underneath you. Anakin grips one of your tits and grabs your throat as he rams into your raw, abused hole.
“Open your mouth,” he growls. “Open your fuckin’ mouth, bitch.”
You obey, head fuzzy as you open your mouth for him. He gathers saliva in his mouth and spits down onto your tongue. You swallow it for him, sticking your tongue out again.
“More, daddy, more!” You mewl. Of course, he gives you what you want— another load of his saliva is sliding down your throat in no time.
You can sense that he’s close. His hips keep sputtering, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Looking down, you watch the bulge poking in and out of your stomach as Anakin fills you. It’s so perfect, your hand goes down to press against the mound of skin there.
“It’s so deep,” you whine out. “Ani, please— need your cum, baby..”
“Oh my god…” he moans. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna fill this fuckin’ hole up. Gonna put a baby in my baby…”
That makes you practically scream, and with one last thrust Anakin’s cum is spilling deep in your womb. You shake, watching as he rides out his high. You can feel how full of cum he’s made you, how completely used you are. He sighs, heavy. He rests his head in the crook of your neck. After a moment he pulls away, and you watch as his cock slips out of your gaping hole. His cum seeps out of you in thick, creamy streams. Anikan doesn’t hesitate to get down on his knees in front of you. His tongue moves to your hole as he begins to fuck his cum back into you, and you can feel the labret on his bottom lip scraping against your cunt. He slides his fingers inside of you and moves his tongue to your clit. You cry out as he suckles the swollen button into your mouth. Your orgasm is only a few moments away. A flick, and another. Your thighs squeeze his head, and then you’re finally cumming— body freezing up, a loud moan spilling from you. Anakin finger fucks you through your orgasm. Pulling away, he brings his cum soaked fingers up to your mouth. As he watches your tongue wrap around the digits, he smiles.
“Did so good,” he mutters. “Love you.”
Your hands go up to card through his dyed black and blue hair.
“Love you, Ani.”
© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
1K notes · View notes
k-hotchoisan · 4 months
Note
Omg I need to see 24. Cowgirl with Yunho
And if there is a video with it 👀👀
Tumblr media
23. Cowgirl with Yunho or Cowgirl with Wooyoung
Awww I wish I did have a video but I don’t ~ but point still stands, save a horse, ride a cowboy (yunho)
Heheh enjoy!
Tumblr media
Genres/Warnings: smut, Drabble, riding, cream pies, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size kink, bulge kink
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3
K’s 500 this or that masterlist here!
Tumblr media
You came up with the idea of riding him, and the idea was brought up so casually, as if you were talking about what you had for lunch the day before, because Yunho had food go down the wrong pipe when he heard it. You blinked at him, confused at his confusion. Yunho is a pretty sizable male, and riding him was something you always wanted to try, and mostly because Yunho has never initiated you to ride him.
“Are you sure about that? I really don’t want to hurt you”, Yunho double confirms as he downs a glass of water. You nod. If missionary already had you clawing the sheets and screaming, just fucking imagine how riding him would be like. But of course, you would never say that to your partner.
Yunho rests his head against the pillows that press against the headboard, both hands flat by his sides. He doesn’t really know where to put them. You told him to just relax, but obviously it was a sentiment to yourself. He‘s rock hard and you’re soaking wet, and the both of you naked, might as well go all out. He’s groaning when you’re sucking him off, your doe eyes sending him into a spiral when his cock disappears in your mouth. You pull off when you see him grip the sheets.
“You can grab my hair you know”, you say before engulfing his cock whole again, and Yunho’s pretty hands immediately tangle with your hair, tugging gently as he tries to catch his breath.
“Shit, that’s so fucking good”, Yunho grunts, pushing your head down deeper as his cock hits the back of your throat. He twitches in you and give his cock a couple of bobs before you completely pull out, and Yunho releases your hair as he attempts to catch his breath. You’re slightly more comforted that he’s more lubed up at least. Yunho had fucked you with his fingers before you had him tugging your hair from the blowjob—another comfort.
You don’t know why you’re nervous now that you’re staring right into Yunho’s eyes as you climb onto him to straddle his lap. His hands are on your face, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow okay?” He reminds you and you bite your lip as you nod.
Fuck’s sake, his cock is fucking huge now that you’re just looking down at it comparing to your pussy.
But at the same time, the thought of it just splitting you open just gradually turns your brain into mush.
You squat over his cock, as you slowly push in his tip in, feeling the pressure, yet at the same time, the more you take his cock in, the more fucking amazing it feels—the way your walls are hugging his cock snug and tight.
You look up at him, and your heart pounds even more—Yunho’s half lidded, panting slightly more, his core is tightening as well as his grip on your hips. For a moment, you worry that he’s suddenly faint.
“Are you okay babe? Should I stop?” You ask, with his cock half way in.
Yunho shakes his head immediately, as if desperate. “Fuck, don’t you fucking stop. Please.”
Ah, you get it now. And so you sink in deeper, and he gets even thicker. Your hands claw Yunho’s shoulder the moment his big cock is fully in you, and you gasp.
It’s taking Yunho everything he has not to just fucking cum in you—you’re so tight and warm around him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, Yunho curses, his head sinking into the pillows. His cock is pretty much bulging when he’s inside of you and you’re biting back a cry from how filled you feel. He’s so fucking big. For a moment, the both of you stay still, the only thing you hear are pants from the both of you—well mostly Yunho trying to control his breathing.
“I’m gonna move now”, you try your best to voice out, and Yunho’s grip on your thighs loosen, and he nods through half-lidded eyes.
You begin to grind your hips, and soft moans escape your lips whenever you feel Yunho’s cockhead drag along your walls. Yunho’s breath is ragged, but his hands still finds yours on his shoulder and he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“You’re taking all of me in you so well,” he sighs, kissing the back of your hand. “You feel so fucking amazing, babe.”
Soon enough, you’re lifting your hips and bouncing off his cock, your moans straight up turning into screams from the way Yunho’s impaling you. Yunho places your hands on his shoulders while his own slides down to your hips.
“So deep”, you sigh as you bite your lip, feeling the way his cockhead presses onto your cervix every time he drives his cock right into you. Yunho cups your face and pulls you in gently to plant kisses along your jaw as his hips thrust into you, and fireworks begin to burst behind your eyelids. Euphoria is beginning flood your senses as your abdomen tightens.
Yunho feels the way you’re starting to flutter around his cock, so he keeps up the pace, his eyes darting at the way his cock is pushing a bulge when you’re fully seated on him.
Your fingers are leaving scratches on his shoulders. Yunho strokes your sides, shutting his eyes to fight off the urge to just fucking breed you, and he coaxes you in the softest tone,
“Are you gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby. It feels so good, right?”
And you snap, your orgasm hitting you in waves as your thighs shake violently, your walls squeezing Yunho’s dick as he holds your legs down, making sure you cum on every inch of his cock.
Your eyes roll back and cries pour out of you as you lean forward with your arms wrapped around his neck. Yunho kisses your ear as he strokes your hair from behind, whispering sweet nothings into your ears, encouraging you to release all over his cock.
“Fuck, yes, yes. So fucking good. Oh my god, fuck”, are the words that only leave your lips before Yunho begins lifting you ass up again to fuck you from below and your mind is completely broken from the overstimulation.
Soon, Yunho is groaning and panting himself, desperate to chase his orgasm and he’s slightly more aggressive—biting and licking up your neck while desperately rutting into you until a cry escapes him as he stills in you.
“Cumming babe. Oh fuck”, he sighs, letting his release spurt your walls as his dick twitches after each load.
The both of you stay in that position for awhile before you pull away, taking Yunho’s face into your hands and giving him a peck on his nose, which he returns with a full on kiss.
“I think this might be my favourite position”
635 notes · View notes
doki-doki-imagines · 2 months
Note
Hello
I saw your post about the linkuei trio arguing with the reader and I really liked it <3
I would like to make a similar request if it is not too much trouble.
What if instead of a kiss the reader slapped them?
author note: anon talks about this post. For this prompt I only got smut ideas, hope it's not a problem!
tw: smut, afab!reader, reader is referred as wife in Bi-Han part.
Tumblr media
-Your husband is a idiot, head harder than concrete. It is easier to convince a brick wall to bend than making Bi-Han understand why he is wrong. -You want to make him understand that you also have power, that you aren't dumber than him, and that he needs to respect you. -Maybe the punishment doesn't look like one. Riding him in his office while leaning on his wooden desk sounds more like a prize than penance. -Your position is anything but comfortable, grinding your pelvis in his one, chests as far as possible and hands gripping the wood of his desk making it tremble enough for the ink to fall and stain the documents splayed on it. Not to talk about his fingers, digging painful moons into your skin -"Look at me the entire time." It's what you ordered at the start. Bi-Han didn't nod, your previous argument brushed off, already savouring your body. -And he doesn't listen to you, eyes piercing where your bodies meet, where your cunt drip on his skin and his cock penetrates you. The sight must be arousing, you feel him twitch inside you, a soft groan only trained ears could hear escapes his chest. -You slap him with the back of your hand, and he stops to look at you. His dark eyes look at you full of fury, ready to overturn you, making you cry for the outrage. -But Bi-Han doesn't have time to react. Your hand grips his dishevelled bun, pushing it down to make him look straight into your eyes. -"Look at me." You show your teeth even if your voice is barely a whisper. -There is fury, as intense as his one. Bi-Han has to admit that it is stronger than his one. He gulps and nods, lips trying to get closer to yours, but you keep him in place, your hips finally taking up the rhythm of before. -Maybe the job of the grandmaster's wife is to tell him also when he is wrong and not only nodding along his choice. -Maybe a good grandmaster should listen to his wife. Bi-Han needs to improve, but for now his only goal is getting fucked stupid by that hurricane that is his partner.
Tumblr media
-"Why are you so stubborn?!" If Liang has something in common with his older brother, it's his hard head. Unwavering. Unchanging. Even when he is completely wrong. -"Stop screaming! You're hurting my ears." Liang snaps back, angry scowl prominent on his face. "If you stopped to talk instead of running away like a fucking coward-" and then something hits your face; it's the back of Liang's hand. -You know he hasn't done it on purpose, you've seen that it happened just because he turned around at the right time for your face to step in the movement of his arm. -His eyes widen, in fear mostly. Liang may be angry, but he'd never hurt you. -But right now you would, adrenaline making your mind not work. You slap him, straight on his right cheek. -You look at each other, gaze intense and breath heavy, but nobody dares to talk. -You are the first one to move, your lips finding your lover ones, hands already running on his body, trying to pull off his uniform by the collar. -Groaned excuses are chanted on your skin They come as fast as they go, Liang's warm lips running on the exposed skin of your neck and chest. -"You are more stubborn than a bull-" You are able to spit out in a rare moment where Liang's lips aren't on yours. "But you enjoy it getting fucked by me, just like a cow." Liang smirks into your lips, not before biting your lower one. -You steps toward your shared bedroom, hands and lips still keeping your bodies connected. -"But please, never hurt each other again." Liang whispers into your ear, in the last moment of lucidity before bliss takes over. You nod, completely agreeing with him. -"But in bedroom it could be nice-" "Then show me how you'd make a bull obedient, fireball."
Tumblr media
-"Know your place, T-Tomas." you say sitting in the comfort of your bed, while your right hand plays with your clit. Tomas listens, or better his body doesn't move, still in its place, the pale skin of his right cheek red from your slap. -You are wearing just your panties and a matching undershirt, all grey silk and white lace, gifted by Tomas a long time ago. -Your hand is playing with your sex, legs open, but Tomas can see the imprint of your fingers playing with yourself, covered by the fabric of your panties. Your nipples are hard, he notices them hidden from undershirt. -Tomas is drooling, his mouth wet with the excess of saliva. "Y-You can just look. Don't you dare c-come closer." -And Tomas follows your order like a good dog. You can see his abs twitching, the tent in his boxer evident. -And honestly? So hot. -"Ah-I bet. I bet you'd love to have a taste of me" You pull out your hand from your panties, a drop of your essence stuck on your index finger, pointing right at him. -Tomas loudly gulps, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, blue irises lost looking at you, or better, at the droplet on your finger. -It takes a second for Tomas to sprint towards you, mouth already open and tongue sticking out, ready to savour you. It also takes you a second to push your foot into his sternum to keep him in his place. -Not that far, but still too much. -"Sorry, but this 'whore than just know how to yap' is busy. For sure, she doesn't have time for a dog like you." You spit out. You would be more convincing if your voice wasn't a whine and your eyes got more anger than tears in them. -Tomas can sense your weakness. He brushes your leg off his chest, and simply pull on the side your wet panties, tongue already deep into your core. -"T-Tommy!" Your hands immediately grip harshly his hair, some tuff escaping your finger. -His rough finger push into the back of your thighs, digging into the fat. Tomas keeps your legs up, far from his face to get as much movement as possible while eating you out. -If only you had a mirror on top of the ceiling, you could notice his back muscles flexing and his biceps twitching to keep your legs in place. -Your moans fill the room, your hands tugging on his hair, which means that your arms are close, squeezing your chest in a delightful sight. Now Tomas has to show you how good of a dog he is. -Later, he will excuse himself for his words.
406 notes · View notes
ablackfangirl · 2 months
Text
Valentines day shenanigans
A Valentine's Day dribbles because why not 💕🍫 maybe a little ooc for Sukuna? Idk he's a big tsundere in this one
Tumblr media
"Valentine's Day is coming up." You say to Sukuna as the two of you were sitting on his couch watching tv
He didn't respond he just gazed at the TV uninterested in whatever you were trying to say
"Sukuna?" Still no response
"Sukuna!" You kick him this time
Which made him kick you back
"Sukuna! I'm trying to talk to you."
"What woman? I'm trying to watch the show."
"You heard me right? Valentine's Day?" You spoke up
Sukuna shrugged, "So what?"
You shouldn't be surprised yet you were, "So what? Don't-don't you wanna do something together for it?"
Your relationship with Sukuna wasn't official but still, with the amount of time you two spent together it might as well be
He snorted a laugh, "I have better things to do that day I'm sure." And he turned back to the tv
You bit the inside of your cheek
You didn't want to start an argument but non the less Sukuna gave you all the ingredients to start one
"What are-" you stopped yourself from asking that question and settled with another, "Can we do something tho?"
Getting him to answer felt like pulling teeth he groaned, "Why are you making this a thing? What if I already had plans?"
You knew the kind of guy Sukuna was
He's crude, he sleeps around, he stays in trouble with your professors and is a walking red flag
But since he's been a constant figure in your life a lot of those traits have started to fade away
"If you have plans that's fine," you sighed "...it was just the thought--I mean we've been seeing each other for a while I thou-"
He cut you off this time with a laugh
"You're not that special, c'mon y/n you know we're just playing around."
Okay that hurt you thought to yourself
"Oh..right, yeah." You nodded. Maybe you had got the wrong idea? Just cause a guy gives you a key to his place doesn't mean you're special to him
Or if he walks you to class all the time, or gives you rides, or just cause you met his family over the break doesn't mean he wants to be in a relationship with you
But if that was the case you definitely felt like a fool now with him sitting across from you without a care in the world
"I-" Your mouth felt dry, "I'm gonna head home." You said getting up you had to leave now or risk him seeing you cry and you'd rather die
"Y/n? The show isn't even over."
You really couldn't believe him, "I'll look up what happens." You say getting your shoes on.
"Well I'll walk you back-"
"Don't bother." You say slamming the door and leaving
"What's her deal" Sukuna thinks to himself but nothing further
A few days pass by and you haven't been responding to his text and all your calls have been short
Clearly your avoiding him
But he doesn't think much or it must be on your period or something
But then he sees you cheesing in some guy's face
Nothing that guy was saying could be that funny
It's after class that Sukuna approaches you, "I'm guessing you've been busy, no other reason to be avoiding my text."
"Yeah sure," you say not stopping to talk to him in the hallway on your way to your next class
"Damnit, y/n what's up your ass?" Sukuna says frustrated, "is it about valentine's day? Are you really pissed ab-"
"-No Sukuna," you cut him off, "its fine I'm fine."
"You're clearly not-"
"I am and why do you even care." You stated, "I have to get to class." You say trying to walk away from him but Sukuna stops you
"Fine, you should have spoke up if it was gonna hurt your feelings so much, we can go out that day."
If Sukuna had something it was definitely audacity
You took a deep breath, "I have plans."
"Plans?" He clearly didn't believe you
"Yes plans...I have a date."
Now Sukuna frowned, "a date?" Disgust clearly in his voice
You couldn't believe his reaction, but at the same time you were going to enjoy this moment, "What did you think you were special?" You chuckled before leaving him standing there
And it's there that Sukuna realizes just how much he fucked up
As far as words go Sukuna was a pro at putting his foot in his mouth
And this might just be the worst of it
Of course, he wanted to spend the holiday with you he had been thinking about it since the new year started
But no you just haaad to ask him about it, and he just haaaad to feel like if you knew just how much he thought of you you'd get the upper hand
And well Sukuna just couldn't have that
But now look where it's gotten him
It was beyond annoying
You should know you were special, he shouldn't have to say it
His actions show it, don't they? But then again how can he blame you after all he said you weren't
And now he had to- he needed to fix this
So when Valentine's day comes around before you go out on that date you hear a knock on the door
Only to answer it to find Sukuna holding a heart shaped box of chocolate a teddy bear and roses
To say you were surprised would be an understatement
"What are you-" but Sukuna pushed passed you into your apartment
He saw you were halfway dressed for your so-called date and there's a sour pit in his stomach
He shoved the items into your arms, "You're my valentine's-this is what you wanted right."
You're immediately annoyed putting them down and you're about to tell him off but he stops you
"Fuck, that's not-" Sukuna's frustration grew as he got stuck on his words "I'm not good at this shit y/n."
"What are-"
"I'm sorry y/n," he said as his face turned a light shade of pink, "I've been an idiot and an asshole."
"More asshole than idiot I'd say." You added making him smack his teeth
"My point." He sighed rolling his eyes, "Is you are special...and we are in a relationship I shouldn't have made you think any different."
"Oh.." you're surprised by how assertive and honest hes being, "I guess I can forgive you this time..." you smile
You knew you wanted more but you knew this took a lot for him to say you'll take it for now
"So that means you can't go on that stupid date you set up," Sukuna added pulling you closer to him
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "I guess you're right...I should at least call him to cancel-"
"Nah, stand him up," he smirked, "he's the dumb ass for trying to make a pass at my woman."
"Your woman?"
"You know you've always been-" he says before kissing you
395 notes · View notes