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#the boy doesn’t wanna be king
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beyond the wall
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theloveinc · 10 months
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Lmfao a bnha barista au would be so funny
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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on my knees begging for some Lucifer smut. Hes such a dork I need him biblically 😭
OMG LITERALLY SAME I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA EAT HIM UP 🫶🫶
anyways i’m obsessed with him so i’m gonna do nsfw hcs and a little drabble at the end bc bestie i need him too
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art by hellpple_hz on twitters
❀˖° So let me just say, if been a long time since he’s gotten laid so he’s probably so nervous about it.
❀˖° I could see him being a switch but never really a hard dom, more of a sevice top. Like when he tops it would be all about your needs.
❀˖° He definitely loves, probably prefers, when you take control and treat him. He loves feeling cared for it’s so sad.
❀˖° Has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving. He just likes to know he’s doing well. 
❀˖° “good boy” “pretty boy” “pretty baby” are his favorites because he really wants to feel appreciated by you.
❀˖° If you call him on of those during sex he’ll probably whine on the spot because he’s just pathetic like that.
❀˖° Intimacy while doing it is a must. Like please hold his hand when you tell him you’re close. He wants to feel as connected to you as possible.
❀˖° I’m pretty sure Lilith canonically pegged him so… yeah he’s very into that. Being fully taken care of by you while you’re fucking your strap into him.
❀˖° He’s the king of hell and he’s probably very stressed all the time so not having to think or make decisions would make him very happy.
❀˖° When he tops, I feel like he also praises you a lot. I also don’t see him being too dominate and rough.
❀˖° His style is definitely more gentle and caring as he fucks you. He fucks you like you’re made of porcelain, not wanting to break you and only wanting to let you know how perfect you are.
❀˖° I don’t think he’s extremely kinky but I do think he’s SUPER VOCAL. Have you heard his voice? he just sounds like he whines.
❀˖° If you praise him too much he probably tears up under all the attention. Lovingly fucking him and telling him he’s perfect? He will actually cry.
❀˖° When he goes into subspace he’s actually so cute. He just begs you to tell him how well he’s doing and that you love him. To the point where he doesn’t even understand anything else if it’s not praise.
❀˖° Also very sweet during aftercare! Definitely makes breakfast for you the morning after.
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“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good for me,” you cooed as you rode lucifer into what be another orgasm of the night. 
“My love, nngh, please,” he whimpered and threw his head back. His face was puffy from crying and his hair was in shambles from all the attention.
“So pretty like this, sweetheart. So pretty, letting me use you as a toy,” you smile as he lets out a broken whimper from the praise. 
A tear rolls down his cheek and he lets out a soft whine when you roll your hips and pick up the pace. 
You lean forward and breathe into his neck, “you’re doing amazing, Luci, you’re taking it so well.”
He half sobs and arches his back. You pepper kisses all over his tear-covered as your hands lovingly trace his body.
“Please…” he whispers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Please what, baby?” You say sweetly as you continue to milk him dry with your pussy.
“Please,” his brows furrow tightly as if he’s trying to remember how to speak under all the pleasure, “please let me cum.”
You smile and ride him faster, starting to loose composure yourself now. 
“Whenever you want, Luci,” you sigh and let your head fall slightly back as you feel your own climax approaching.
Lucifer whined loudly and bucked his hips up into your cunt. 
“My love, nngh,” he moaned uselessly as his eyes filled with more tears. You picked up the pace and Lucifer arched into your touch, chasing his orgasm.
“Good boy, making me feel so good, baby.”
That was his breaking point. With your climax following soon after, he moaned loudly, finally releasing and falling back onto the mattress, chest heaving. 
“Oh my goodness,” he panted, “Th-thank you, my love.” He shut his eyes and softly smiled, exhaustion finally setting in.
“You did amazing,” you say softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek before picking yourself up off of his overstimulated cock.
His eyes fluttered open slightly when he felt your hand slowly tracing down to the base of his cock.
“But we’re not done yet.” 
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a/n: real men say ‘oh my goodness’ after an orgasm
remember that
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kithtaehyung · 2 months
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
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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
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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 :'))
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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.” 
-
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
-
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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. 
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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. 
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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. :)
-
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so... how did it go! | join the server!
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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
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niluffa · 6 months
Text
tw : subby sukuna, praising, really ooc | cw : 0,8k
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“you wanna cum?” you whisper into sukuna’s ear. his back was firmly pressed against your chest, your bicep barely brushing past his waist as you stroked his cock from behind.
this was embarrassing. he was the king of curses, you were supposed to be the one begging for release, not him. guess the tables have changed a bit too quickly.
“y-yeah,” sukuna whines, voice and throat raw from the amount of times he screamed his lungs out─how many times did he cum again? sukuna can’t remember, and if you asked for the number, he would be screwed.
“yeah, pretty boy?” you chuckle, slowing your hand down on purpose. he has been through so many orgasms, he can take a small break, can’t he?
according to him, the answer is no.
“no!” sukuna sobs out at the lack of sensation on his cock, and he knew you did it to play with him─taking your one and only chance to mock and toy with the ryomen sukuna himself.
but how can he think of himself as mighty when he’s begging for your hand to start moving again?
“what do we say when─” you get cut off.
“p-please!” sukuna cries, hands aggressively itching to just grab you by your throat and force you on his cock─which, he doesn’t, since even though he’s the strongest, he’s a bit scared of you, (he’ll never admit it.)
“oh?” usually, you would slap him for cutting you off, but for now, you took your time to admire your two hours of hard work.
sukuna’s entire body was covered with sweat, his muscles gleaming under the orange tones of the sunset that peeked from behind the curtains.
tears, drool, and snot ran down his face. the normal sight of a crying person was a red face─which sukuna couldn’t dodge. the angry red colour dusted his cheeks, matching the current state of his cock.
the shade of red his poor dick held was so unintentionally gorgeous, it almost brought tears to your eyes.
in reality, it didn’t─your face holding zero amount of pity.
“good pet,” you praised him as if you trained a dog─telling him what things he did correctly and what he messed up. taming the king of curses wasn’t easy, but you did notice minor changes in his behavior.
your hand sped up. yes, you could stay at the painfully slow pace and watch sukuna cry himself to another orgasm. but he’s been such a sweetheart lately, and how could you deny his pleasure when he looks at you with those glossy crimson eyes of his?
“yes, yes, yes,” sukuna babbled at the sudden change of speed. his sharp fangs sunk into his bottom lip in an attempt to hide his moan─which failed as he still managed to choke out a few weak whimpers.
you’ve seen sukuna in many states, and his superhuman stamina never failed to amaze you, whether it was in a fight or during your intimate times in the bedroom.
but even then, you could see that sukuna was slowly reaching his limits. his throat was raw, only able to create the same pair of weak whimpers and whines.
it was visible on his face too. the way his eyelids struggled to stay open, and his mouth opening and closing like a fish. he kept switching between biting his lip to hide his moans and letting his jaw drop so he could gasp for air.
nevertheless, he was close.
“p-please,” sukuna chokes out again. the back of his head rested against your shoulder as he brutally failed to keep his spine straight─it’s not like he wanted to look at his cock being stroked either.
“i know, ‘kuna, i know,” you whisper and for the sake of ending his suffering, your wrist moves faster. sukuna felt the soft pad of your thumb brush against his tip every time your hand went up and he yelped.
“f-fuck!” sukuna cries, mouth hanging open to let out the most hot-blooded moans you’ve ever heard. damn, if only you had recorded him, you were sure his onlyfans would pay your rent for months.
“g-gonna cum─” sukuna gets cut off by his own moan, which was rather high-pitched and almost too feminine for the way he looked. the familiar burning feeling inside his tummy rose every second, tears and snot pouring down his face.
“‘s okay,” you coo at him, thumb circling around his hole every now and then─sukuna sob, and you grin, “you can let go, hm?” sukuna doesn’t argue, he doesn’t growl, hiss, or yell like he always does.
he listens and comes. and when he does, he comes hard.
the overwhelming feeling of release washes over him, thin and watery ropes of cum, that were caused by the unknown amount of orgasms he had before, landing right on right on his chest.
“you did so good,” you hum and continue to milk his cock to help him get rid of every last bit that was left of him; even against his protests of “too much!”
but in the end, he got his release, so who is he to complain?
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lovebugism · 9 days
Note
I heard you’d like some requests, don’t mind if I do 👹 I could’ve sent 62 but I restrained myself:
*grumbling* "Some people are waaay too touchy."
if it inspires you, please!
emmy (upsidedownwithsteve) 🧡
@upsidedownwithsteve, my love! it was an honor to write for you! i hope you like it :D — eddie munson's a big, jealous grump at the bar (established relationship, fluff, 1.1k)
Eddie’s having a piss-poor night. His beer’s lukewarm, the music’s too loud, you’re too far away, and Steve Harrington hasn’t shut up in ten minutes. 
He could hardly stand the dumbass everyone used to call The King, but even less when he’s got a golden arm thrown over your shoulder. And, yeah, it’s all friendly or whatever, but that hardly quells the wildfire burning in his chest. “What right does he have to touch you like this? Fucking none,” grumbles the wild-haired boy’s inner conscience. 
But then again, no one does. Not even him.
“Think I should go buy her a drink?” Steve asks you over the blaring pop music. His honey eyes are pointed across the bar at a girl way out of his league. His slick mouth is far too close to your ear.
You roll your eyes. “I think you should be a gentleman and feel things out with her first—”
“Oh, I’m gonna feel things out with her, alright,” Steve scoffs, bringing the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth.
“—Before jumping into a one-night stand you only halfway recover from.”
The two of you turn to glare at each other, then. Gazes unwavering. Noses mere inches apart. Eddie makes a faint grumbly noise of protest about it, but the boyish sound of disgust goes unheard under the music.
But when I see you hanging about with anyone—
It’s not unusual to see me cry; I wanna die!
Someone’s been plugging the same goddamn Tom Jones song into the jukebox for six minutes now. Eddie feels like he might as well be in hell at this rate. It’d hurt less, he figures.
You and Steve seem to communicate telepathically until he inevitably caves first. He huffs until his puffed-out chest deflates, along with his stupid ego. He doesn’t know how you always seem to be right about everything. He fucking hates it, actually.
“Right. Whatever. I’m gonna go find Robin. She’s probably lost,” Steve deadpans with a sigh as he slides out from the booth. “Want anything?”
“Can you get me—”
“A spicy margarita?” he finishes for you — like he can read your fucking mind, Eddie grouses bitterly to himself. He hates that someone else knows you as well as he does.
You squint. “How’d you know?”
‘Cause it’s your favorite thing to drink after shots, Eddie answers in his head.
“Because we just had tequila shots. And you always want a spicy margarita after tequila shots,” Steve deadpans, then chuckles when your face scrunches. He pokes the very apple of your cheek and turns to the pouty boy across from you. “What about you, Eds? Want another beer while I’m up?”
Eddie shakes his head with a flat face, then takes a sip of his warm and hardly-sipped beer.
“Next round’s on you two, alright? I’m not your fucking boyfriend— you’re not getting free beers off me all night,” Steve chides lightheartedly before disappearing into the crowd. 
You only smile to yourself as he goes. You know he’ll buy the whole damn bar out if you ask him to. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for and all. Especially when they’re rich.
A groan bubbles in Eddie’s throat when the upbeat song starts all over again. It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone! the man croons. He drops his head to his elbow and bellows an annoyed moan. His chestnut curls spread wild over his shoulders.
You hide your grin behind your fist. “What’s wrong, Eds?”
“Nothin’,” he monotones, face still hidden.
“You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes.”
“Well, Steve hasn’t shut up in about thirty, so…” he retorts and lifts his heavy head, faking a smile as he tilts his flushed cheek to his shoulder. “Getting you two idiots into a room is fuckin’ crazy, you know that, right? Neither of you knows when to stop talking.”
Your nose scrunches. “Well, that’s what usually happens when you have friends, Eddie. You have conversations.”
“You sayin’ I don’t have friends, sweetheart?” he questions with narrowed, chocolate eyes.
“No,” you answer, grinning all pretty. “I’m sayin’ you’re jealous for no reason.”
His face falls flat at having been found out so quickly. Though he figures he wasn’t exactly being discreet about the whole thing. He grumbles and shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling too seen beneath your unwavering stare.
“Some people are just way too touchy,” he grouses with a boyish sneer on his features, trying desperately to hide his pout behind the amber bottle in his fist. He takes another sip of the lukewarm liquid and averts his gaze.
Your beam widens until it brightens the dim bar. “You’re the one sitting all the way over there, you loon,” you tell him with a soft giggle that squints the edges of your eyes.
Eddie perks at the invitation. His doe eyes flit from the sticky table to your twinkling eyes. He’s been waiting on the offer all night, too much of a coward to ask you himself, and it shows on his suddenly hopeful features.
You nod your head to the empty spot beside you. “Get over here before Steve comes back and starts yapping again.”
Eddie rises with a newfound life, rounding the table and sliding into the squeaky booth beside you. He clutches his beer with his left hand and throws his right around your shoulder. His arm rests over the back of the booth where Steve’s once was, holding you like he’s been dying to all night.
“Better?” you grin.
He nods wordlessly, wild curls tickling your jaw. He takes another sip to hide his quiet smile when you press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek.
Steve returns then, with your spicy margarita in one hand and Robin’s wrist in the other. She stumbles in behind him and sways in place ahead of the table — freckled cheeks rosy, ocean eyes glassy.
“Have fun?” you wonder with a teasing lilt.
“I saw something shiny on the way back from the bathroom,” the brunette girl confesses in tiny slurs. “Then I get lost…”
You nod sympathetically. “We figured.”
Steve nudges her ahead of him until Robin gets the hint. She slinks gracelessly into the booth. The boy squints as he slides you your drink. “You’re in my seat,” he observes, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.
Eddie shrugs. “…Yeah?”
“You could’ve just asked to switch,” he scoffs and slips in beside Robin.
“I was fine,” the wild-haired boy insists, then nods his head over to you. “She’s the one that wanted me to move.”
And even though that’s not exactly what happened, you nod anyway. “Yeah. I got too tired of sitting next to you, Stevie,” you tease the boy ahead of you. “Your cologne’s too strong— you smell like a fucking high school boys’ locker room.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you had a ton of experience in those back in the day, didn’t you?” Steve scoffs.
Your eyes narrow. “Dick.”
“Jesus,” Eddie grumbles like a storm cloud. “Stop flirting.”
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angelbarelywrites · 16 days
Text
♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed
♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut
♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Brahms Heelshire
> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect
> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed
> It was a lot even for a king bed
> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed
> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep
> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life
> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest
> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair
> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you
> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining
> “Baby…wake up…”
> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg
> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament
Micheal Myers
> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this
> You know he doesn’t cuddle
> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night
> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is
> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly
> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board
> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax
> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals
> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”
> He pauses.
> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.
> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving
> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.
> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.
> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek
> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..
Thomas Hewitt
> He’s almost nervous of the idea
> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning
> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-
> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries
> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical
> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask
> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him
>“Hold me?”
> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time
> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting
> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.
> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.
> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”
> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.
Bubba Sawyer
> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)
> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.
> You were wondering where those went
> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly
> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears
> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last
> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does
> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.
> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back
> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute
> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast
> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one
> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over
Vincent Sinclair
> Like some of the others he’s hesitant
> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room
> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps
> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax
> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is
> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress
> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn
> It’s your turn to pout down at him
> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby
> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave
> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning
469 notes · View notes
phefics · 4 months
Note
hey i don’t know if i already requested this (if I have just ignore this) but how do you think the hunger games boys would react to you using your safeword?
content warning for safeword use, and mentions of finnick’s canon trauma. to be clear, all characters respect and listen to the safeword, there is no non-con here!!
peeta is extremely gentle. he stops whatever he’s doing, asks tons of questions: “do you wanna get dressed? should i get some water? can i hold you, or do you not wanna be touched?” and goes into protector-mode. he’ll help you get cleaned up, and he’ll praise you for using it. “that’s why we have a word, right?” he says, giving you a small smile. “thank you for telling me.”
gale gets protective to almost a detriment. he apologizes non-stop as he helps you out, and he wants to talk over what happened as soon as you’re ready so he can try to avoid it happening again. he’s prideful and while he is glad you used your safeword and would never dream of being mad at you for it, he does get a little in his head about it and blames himself.
finnick is the king of consent after all he’s been through. if you say your safeword, he is immediately ready, asking if you want space or to be grounded. depending how you answer, he’ll either sit back and let you relax, or he’ll pull you into his arms. he thanks you for trusting him enough to use it, and tells you what a good job you did. afterwards, he’ll ask you if you wanna talk about the why. but first, snuggles and snacks.
coriolanus stops, because as much as he enjoys having power over you, there are limits and even he knows that. he isn’t so good at the aftercare part of sex — he isn’t very romantic. but, he is good with words. “you did so good. you took it so well. i’m not mad, okay? you used your words just like i told you to.” if he didn’t get to cum, he will probably be a little frustrated, but he doesn’t let it show.
sejanus is so gentle. he’s worried, probably blames himself a little bit, but he won’t voice that until you’re taken care of. he’ll clean you up, kiss your forehead, make sure you drink water. he’ll remind you that he isn’t mad, that you did the right thing, that he loves you over and over again.
652 notes · View notes
Text
Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq​ ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)
Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?
Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.
He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.
He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.
After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.
They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.
Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.
The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.
Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.
The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.
Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.
He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.
He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.
Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.
It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.
"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.
As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".
Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.
 The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.
“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.
Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.
“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.
Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…
“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him.  They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.
“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.
To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.
Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.
Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.
"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.
He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.
So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.
Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.
But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.
He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.
The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.
The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.
Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.
Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.
And this week might be the perfect time.
Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.
“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.
“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.
"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.
Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.
Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".
It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.
Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry.  Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.
And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.
He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.
But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.
Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.
"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.
Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.
"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.
Steve looks down at their joined hands,.
"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.
His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.
"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks
Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.
Eddie nods his agreement.
"I call everyone those things" he points out.
Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.
Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.
"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.
"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.
"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.
"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.
He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.
"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.
"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.
Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.
"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.
Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.
"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.
"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.
" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.
"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.
"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.
"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.
"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.
Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.
Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.
3K notes · View notes
whyse7vn · 30 days
Text
PALENTINES -
[ ot7 x reader ]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SINGLE LADIES 😁🔥
8 participants - 8 online
———————————
tae: gave my gf an hour long whimpering audio for valentines day
namjoon: you make me sick
jimin: this definitely counts as harassment
jk: yoongi got me a plastic fork
yoongi: yw
y/n: the audio was 5 minutes long????
tae: ok but i sent it to you 20 times
do the math????
jin: you sat there and whimpered into ur phone for 5 minutes that’s crazy
don’t you feel any shame??
tae: why would i feel shame?
it’s called being in love jin
you should try it sometime
jimin: it’s called harassment
hobi: ew man
jk: free asmr :D
jin: it’s gonna be free tae from jail soon
tae: no it won’t
jimin: ur right when you get locked up no one’s gonna want you free
hobi: KEEP TAE IN JAIL 🗣️💯
jk: personally i would want tae free
jimin: personally ur not real so it doesn’t matter what you want
jk: :ᗡ
hobi: ew how the hell did you flip it
i hate that
ew
jk: :ᗡ
hobi: HOW DID YOU DO THAT
jk: :ᗡ
hobi: STOP GO AWAY I HATE IT
namjoon: yoongi got jungkook a present this year?
yoongi: not by choice
y/n: it was by choice
hobi: it was a plastic fork
yoongi: a plastic fork not given by choice
y/n: yoongi
yoongi: no
y/n: please
yoongi: no
y/n: pretty please :3
yoongi: it was by choice
y/n: see told you!
yoongi: don’t understand why we have to buy each other shit on this holiday anyways
i like ONE of you not all of you
tae: am i the one you like be honest
yoongi: bye
y/n: it’s our silly little tradition don’t be a loser yoongi
yoongi: whatever
jin: ok anyways who ordered me a fucking marching band???
jk: idk but did you like it??
y/n: gonna take a wild guess and say it was jungkook
namjoon: i thought you have his card how did he order that??
y/n: he has apple pay now i can’t stop him 😕
hobi: wait no fair
jin did NOT deserve a marching band all he got me was his butter photocard???
jimin: he got me that too….
jk: OMG ME TOO >_<
tae: i don’t feel special anymore
namjoon: really jin?
y/n: mine was signed!!
yoongi: cheap
jin: you literally got kook a plastic fork?
yoongi: he loves it
jungkook tell him you love it
jk: i love it
yoongi: see
jin: whatever don’t care
jimin: namjoon got me a fucking book
jin: lol that’s crazy cuz you can’t read
jk: i’m sorry to hear you can’t read jimin hope you can soon :/
namjoon: i put a lot of thought into the book i got you
jin: that’s cute but he can’t read so
jk: i wish i was a book
tae: if you’re a book does that make you a tree?
jk: guys
y/n: no jungkook
jk: oh ok
jimin: i CAN read btw
yoongi: don’t care
jin: sounds like fake news
jk: omg wow ur a fast learner jimin you can read now!!!
jimin: ur talking way too much today
you should stop
jk: is he talking to me????
hobi: y/n got me a holiday to australia
i’m not gonna go cuz like bugs
but that was really nice
y/n: you’re welcome!!!!
tae: k but i got sex
y/n deleted this message!
tae: 😕
silencing me like they did MLK
jimin: what
jk: milk
hobi: did you just compare urself to mlk?
jin: yeah never say that again
tae: why not?? it’s true
yoongi: you are nothing like mlk
jk: tae ur not milk
namjoon: taehyung do not compare yourself to martin luther king ever again please and thank you
jk: or milk
y/n: and in black history month too…
tae: you don’t understand me or him
y/n: yeah ok
back to gifts
joon got me some really pretty flowers
jimin: boringggggggg he does that every year
jk: namjoon got me wood
hobi: ?
namjoon: statue
it’s a wooden statue thing
not just wood
tae: joon giving other boys wood for valentines ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️
u wanna know who i gave MY wood too
y/n deleted this message!
namjoon: tae shut up
jin: saw that
tae: i’m just like mlk i’m telling you man
y/n: stop
tae: sorry
jimin: hobi got me shoes
hobi: i did
jk: hobi got me cheese
hobi: expensive cheese
y/n: i took yoongi to those cute photo booth things
yoongi: they didn’t need to know that
y/n: yes they did
we are sharing what we got each other
read the room yoongi
jimin: yeah yoongi read the room
tae: how tf u read a room??!
a room not a book ☠️☠️
u guys dumb as hell
jin: you not knowing what reading a room means makes a lot of sense actually
jk: send photobooth pics ^0^
bet u looked so cute
not you yoongi
y/n
her
not yoongi
i’m talking to y/n NOT you yoongi btw
yoongi: shut up
and no
you’ll never see those photos
jk: ☹️
hobi: so what did yoongi get y/n??
yoongi: don’t worry
tae: personally i’m worried
jk: me 2 guys yoongi is really scary
what if he killed her
y/n: ?
jin: i want to blow jungkook up
jk: i’m no ballon 😭
jimin: probably fucked for valentines let’s be real
tae: well that’s obviously NOT true lmao 😜 ☠️
yoongi: why is that “obviously” not true
we could of
tae: you didn’t
yoongi: and you know how?
tae: cuz i just know
yoongi: yeah ok
we could of for all you know
on the actual day too
tae: you weren’t even with her on valentine’s day
yoongi: and you were?
y/n: he wasn’t
tae: ok
but i could of been
yoongi: but clearly you weren’t
tae: neither were you
namjoon: both of you stop
tae: idk why yoongi acts all high a mighty
especially when it comes to her
y/n: ok that’s crazy
how about you don’t talk about me like i’m not here!
yoongi: idk why taehyung acts like he has a chance lmao
jk: guys
tae: that’s actually crazy
you’d be fucking surprised yoongi!!!!
yoongi: what’s that supposed to mean?
tae: what do you think it means?
tell me yoongi
guess
i’ll tell you if you’re right or not
yoongi: shut the fuck up
tae: or what?
hobi: why this kinda sexualllll
jimin: like 😭😭😭😭
y/n: LMAO STOP
jin: arguing over pussy that belongs to neither of them is crazy i’m just saying
jk: pussy \ ^0^ /
namjoon: how about we all stop arguing and move back to talking about the gifts we got eachother !!
hobi: jungkook got me a ballon
jk: yeah
do you love it
hobi: sure
jk: ^_^
jimin: personally i think hobi’s lying to you kook
jk: WHAT
jimin: i think he hates his ballon actually
jk: hobi pls say he’s lying
hobi: he’s lying
you see it may seem that way because on the outside im a very chill and nonchalant man
y/n: that is not true actually!
hobi: but on inside i am actually very chalant
EXTREMELY chalant no joke
so basically inside im going fucking crazy over the ballon jungkook gave me but it just doesn’t seem like that cuz im a chill guy
jk: but inside ur chalant
hobi: exactly
jk: jimin why would you lie to me
jimin: ur easy to lie to
jk: no im not
jimin: namjoon died in a car crash 24 hours ago
jk: NO NAMJOON OHHMYGOD NAMJOON NO
namjoon: i am not dead
jk: oh
y/n: how did you fall for that
namjoon cant even drive
jk: oh yeah
lol namjoon cant drive guys
namjoon: ok we all know
hobi: so what did you guys actually do on valentine’s day
jk: minecraft but then it got too scary so i played valorant instead
jimin: idk what any of that means but ok
i personally watched movies with joon
namjoon: yeah
i dropped by kook’s and y/n’s place first tho to give my gifts and stuff
hobi: where was my movie invite?????
jimin: we did call you
you were like high as hell
hobi: oh
wow
how real of me
jin: i cooked steak
jimin: for urself?
typical
jin: kys
no
for me and y/n actually
y/n: …
jin: my fault
yoongi: what
tae: oh
jk: SHE SAID SHE WAS BUSY
TTAHSTNOT FAIIROGJKFNKLDVLKFNKLFHKLNNDKVHNFKVNKLGNGR UFHDFHDKJ GHDKLNGFKLNGFG FHJDJHHGR DHGGRHBDNBF JGHKJGHGR
hobi: ????????????????????
namjoon: cool
jimin: jin???? out of everyone JIN??????
why would you fuck jin
jk: WHATR OHMYGOF WHAT?????? SHUT UP
jimin: on valentine’s day too…..
even fucking ME would make more sense than jin right now
jin: tf is that supposed to mean?
jimin: i said what i said lmao
tae: she cant of fucked jin
cuz she’s fucking me
yoongi: LMAOOOO
u really think your special dont you
thats crazy
jk: WHYIS EVERYONEFUCKING MY GIRLFRIENDOHMGYOJFDJFDKJDSDB
hobi: i dont get it even if she was fucking tae why couldn’t she fucked jin too?
y/n: i am like right here you know
tae: because me and her are serious
yoongi: serious???
you are just a rebound
tae: yoongi i think you’re just upset she didn’t come to you first after the whole jaehyun thing
yoongi: i’m glad she didn’t actually because now i know for sure i’m not rebound
you are
tae: shut the fuck up
yoongi: why? you getting upset?
idk why you’re acting like the victim here when you’re using her for the same thing
hobi: woah??
jimin: cap taehyung bitchless
yoongi: it’s time you stop using y/n to get over jennie and grow some fucking balls
jin: hold on
jimin: WAITTTTTTTT
hobi: SHUT FUCKING DOWN FR????
jk: imgonnapassout
y/n: oh
namjoon: yoongi
tae: i am not using y/n to get over jennie and you know that
hobi: wait ur fr??? taejennie was fr??
LIKE ACTUALLY?? OHMYGIDTHISISREAL??
yoongi: i know that? thats crazy how could i know that??
you didn’t even tell us about jennie
for over 3 months you were with her and you didn’t tell us
and then those photos of you and her were leaked and you were all depressed for ”no reason”
and now all of a sudden your obsession with y/n?
yeah you’re not using her you’re right i’m just fucking stupid aren’t i?
jimin: holy shit man
tae: i am not using her
yoongi: so why is yeontan with jennie right now?
y/n: tae you told me he was with you parents?
tae: yeah
but
i didn’t tell you that because im using you or anything i just said that because i didn’t want to cause any problems
y/n: you lied to me
for no reason
if you told me the truth it would of been fine
tae: i know
y/n: so when i came over
were you planing of sleeping with me anyways?
were you mad at yourself for calling jennie and leaving yeontan with her?
did you use me to help forget about it?
tae: did you use me to help get over jaehyun?
y/n: no
i can tell you that in full confidence no
now answer my question
tae: you know i would never do that to you
y/n: its a yes or no question taehyung
tae: i would never do that to you
yoongi: yes or no you asshole
tae: shut the fuck up
yoongi: answer her question
tae: leave me the fuck alone
tae left “SINGLE LADIES😁🔥”
jk: wow
y/n: didn’t sleep with jin btw
jk: ohthankgod
y/n: did sleep with tae once
we are NOT serious
jk: double ohthankgod
wait
y/n: and now i am going to sleep
jungkook come cuddle
gn all
jk: ON MY WAY OHMYGOD IM ON MY WAY
gn
jimin: good night …
hobi: nite!!
yoongi: gn
jin: goodnight
namjoon: gn
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DOWNBAD😭🫵🏻 #2 (minus tae)
6 participants - 5 online
———————————
namjoon: yoongi that wasn’t fair
yoongi: i know
but she deserved to know
and he wasn’t gonna tell her any time soon
hobi: YOU AND NAMJOON KNEW THIS TAEJENNIE WAS REAL THIS WHOLE TIME????
yoongi: i just found out
namjoon knew longer
namjoon: not that long
jimin: ok but how do you know tae is using her fr?
yoongi: it’s not hard to connect the dots
jin: still you could be wrong
yoongi: well he didn’t deny it did he?
jimin: to me it looked like he didn’t know if he was using her or not
yoongi: well he needs to figure that out soon it’s not fair to her
or him ig
but mainly her.
hate this don’t care about anything bring back yellow….
tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks
379 notes · View notes
uluvjay · 5 months
Text
Family- C. Caufield
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Dad Cole Caufield! x mom reader! x daughter!
Summary; The journey of your and Cole’s family
Warnings?; FLUFF, hints to sex, kissing, cursing, pregnancy, mentions of labor, emotions, can’t think of anymore
All credit for this idea to my bby @turcott3
Part of my 1k celly:)
July 2021
Cole stood with Trevor watching you play beer pong with Alex and Jack, a smile bright on his face knowing how well you got along with his best friends.
The two of you had grown up together, both committing to Wisconsin together and both planning a full time move to Montreal this upcoming fall, for Cole to play his first full nhl season and you to being your career in interior design.
“Dude Just ask her out already, the way you two stare at each other is creepy” Trevor laughed beside him.
“We don’t stare at each other!” Cole defended, “I’m just watching her and Alex destroy Jack” he shrugged.
“Dude you two need to give it up already and just admit your feelings, or at least fuck. She’s a dime, and if you don’t swoop her up someone else will” the New York native spoke as he downed the rest of his beer and left his friend alone.
Cole didn’t want to admit his friend was right but sadly he was. He’d always felt something for you, he wasn’t really sure what exactly her felt but he’d always found himself being drawn to you.
Not to mention the way you stood by his side through everything, the way you cried into his shoulder when he was drafted, stood by his side and cried again when he won the Hobey Baker award; Twice. How you talked his anxiety away before his first nhl game and comforted him when the habs lost the cup final.
You were always there for him and he was forever grateful to have someone as amazing as you in his life.
He was taken out of his thoughts at the sight of your bubbly frame making your way towards him with a beaming smile on your face.
“You kick his ass?” He laughed as your arms wrapped around him, his hand that wasn’t holding his drink wrapping around your waist to pull you into his side.
“Annihilated Him” you smirked before cuddling even more into his side.
A blush tinting your cheeks at the feeling of his lips pressing against your head and the way his hand ran up and down your back.
Cole smirked at the shudder that ran down your body at his touch, he always noticed how you always got goosebumps when he was touching you.
“Wanna come get a some snacks with me?” He asked into your hair.
“Sure” you smiled and followed him inside the house.
You took a seat on the counter while Cole scattered through the fridge and cabinets looking for food, “what sounds good to you?” He asked, back facing you.
You weren’t sure if it was the small amount of alcohol in your system or the severe amount of built up sexual tension between the two of you that made you say it but it came out either way.
“You” you spoke causing the blonde boy to turn around quickly.
“What?” He asked making sure he heard you correctly.
“You heard me Cole, I want you” you extended a leg out to wrap around his hip and pull him forward.
“Are you sure? This could mess things up between us if it doesn’t work out” He attempted to be the voice of reason even though he was slotting himself between your thighs.
“I’m positive Cole” you assured before pulling the boy in for a deep kiss.
-
August 2021
Something was up, you had been sick all week and you couldn’t take it anymore. All the guys besides Alex had gone out to golf, having a late night before hand the Kings player decided to stay in.
“Why don’t we run to urgent Care? You could have a real bad case of food poisoning and you and Cole are supposed to leave in three days” He tried.
“Okay fine, let me get ready” you spoke finally agreeing with the boy who had been pushing you to go to the doctors after three days of consistent puking.
You were sat in the room with Alex in the chair next to you, they had wrote all of your symptoms down and had taken blood and urine samples.
“This is taking forever” you grumbled, a hand subconsciously rubbing over your stomach.
“I’m sure it won’t be much longer” the curly haired boy beside you spoke.
Just as you were about to issue another complaint the door opened and the doctor came in with a worried expression on her face.
“So I have some news sweetheart and I’m not really sure if it’s good or bad” she smiled sympathetically causing your stomach to drop.
You and Alex shared a quick look before you asked her to continue.
“You’re five weeks pregnant” she said.
You felt like your world stopped spinning for a moment, Pregnant? There was no way you were pregnant.
“No I’m sorry, it has to be a false negative” you laughed in disbelief.
“Honey your blood and urine test came back positive” she added.
“But I haven’t had any unprotec-“ yes you did, with Cole. Five weeks ago.
“Oh no” you cried, dropping your head into your hands.
“I’m assuming this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, uh are you the father?” She asked pointing to Alex
“Uh no, best friend” he awkwardly smiled in reply.
“Baby-daddy is out golfing” you cried, feeling like a train of emotions hit you at once.
“What? Oh-oh shit” Alex spoke as he finally connected all the dots, you and Cole disappearing that July night and you walking out of his room the next morning with disheveled hair and a limp.
After getting a talk through of the calls and appointments you needed to make the doctor let you leave with some paperwork and a copy of your test results.
“What am I gonna do Alex? There’s no way he wants a baby right now! He’s about to start his first season in the NHL” you cried out to the boy in the drivers seat.
“Hey calm down, I’m sure if you guys talk it out everything will be okay” he smiled reassuringly and patted your knee.
Returning home you found Cole and Jacks cars in the driveway meaning everyone was home.
“Relax, it’s going to be okay” Alex spoke up sensing your anxiety.
You nodded with a smile as you both made your way into the house, hearing everyone in the kitchen.
“Hey we were wondering where you to went” Jack spoke as he watched you both enter.
“Finally convinced someone to go to a doctor” Alex laughed in attempt to get the boys off your back so you could find Cole.
“Uh do you guys know where Cole is?” You asked.
“His room” Trevor replied, he knew something was wrong he could see it on your face and in your eyes.
Mumbling a thank you, you made your way up to the Centers bedroom knocking before entering.
“Hey, everything okay? We came back and you guys were gone” he smiled pulling you into his side from where he stood.
“Um, We need to talk. And you might want to sit down” you mumbled.
“Okay..” he said as he sat at the edge of the bed, you standing in front of him.
“So we went to urgent care to see what was going on and it’s not food poisoning” you began.
“Oh that’s great, what did they say you sicknesses is from then?” Cole smiled happy that you weren’t sick.
“I-uh, I’m five weeks pregnant Cole”
You could see the boy physically pale at the words that dropped from your mouth, his smile had dropped and he looked at you like a deer in headlights.
“I-your what?” He stuttered out in disbelief.
“Pregnant” you whispered.
“Okay” he nodded
“Okay? You’re just perfectly fine with this?” You panicked.
“No, I mean I’m fucking terrified but this is our fault. Our parents taught us what protection is and we chose not to use it. But if this isn’t what you want I won’t be bad, I understand” he softly spoke as he stood up and wrapped you in a hug.
“I’m so scared Cole” you finally broke down.
“Me to but we got this, I promise I will never let you or this baby down” he promised into your ear.
-
November 2021
“Do we have any ice cream left?” You asked looking over at Cole as he sat on the sectional next to you.
“No I gave you the rest last night” he replied
“Can we go to the store?” You smiled up at the man.
“Y/n it’s midnight” he laughed.
“It’s for the baby though! She wants it not me” you pouted.
You two had found the gender a few weeks ago and Cole was beyond excited to be having a baby girl.
“Come on please! I’ll even drive” you offered, doing your best to get the boy to agree with you.
“Fine” he sighed but a smile still covered his face.
“Yay! Come on” you squealed jumping up and heading to the door and sliding on your crocs and grabbing your car keys.
Cole followed behind you slipping on his own shoes, following closely behind you towards the elevator. He smiled at your little dance as you skipped in pure excitement at the thought of getting ice cream.
You sported one of his Wisconsin hoodies, leggings, and your fuzzy crocs-the boy truly thought you’d never looked better.
The ride to the twenty-four hour grocery wasn’t long and you made it there quickly.
“What flavor are you thinking?” He asked as you stood in front of the ice cream section, a look of pure concentration on your face.
“I don’t know, trying to get the baby to send me signals” you groaned knowing it had to hit just right to satisfy the craving.
He laughed, “okay well I’m gonna go grab some chicken while you and our girl pick your flavor” he he smiled softly at your small okay.
Finally after ten minutes you settled on cotton candy and made your way to the meat section to find Cole.
However your happy mood suddenly dropped when you seen what had been taking the boy so long, pretty little brunette.
She stood clad in an outfit not much different then yours, a beautiful smile beaming up at Cole as she made him laugh with something she said-His smile mirroring hers.
You really didn’t have a right to be jealous, you and Cole had both felt that a relationship wouldn’t work between the two of you and that doing this as best friends would be better. But for some reason you couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling in your lower stomach.
Sensing eyes on him Cole turned to find you in a staring contest with the ground, obviously stuck in your thoughts.
The girl had followed his eyes to where you stood, body being swallowed by a hoodie that obviously didn’t belong to you.
“Oh I didn’t know you had a girlfriend” she mumbled stepping back a bit.
“She’s not-it’s complicated” he mumbled.
“On and off again complicated Or?” She asked trying to get him to continue.
“We’re best friends but we did some stuff that ended us in a sticky situation, and now I’m not really sure what we are” he did his best not wanted to expose his entire private life to a stranger.
“Ahh” she nodded before continuing, “well if it’s not a problem with you, I’d like to give you my number” she blushed.
“Yeah sure” he blushed back and handed his phone over.
-
November 2021
“Do I look okay?” He questioned stepping out of his room dressed in a nice sweater and jeans.
“You look great” you smiled at the boy.
Cole had began talking to the girl from the grocery store-Sophia was her name, and tonight they had a date.
He nodded in thanks before gathering his things and turning back to you, “You sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” He asked
“Yeah, me and Emma are going to grab some pizza and maybe a movie, I’ll be good” you smiled at the boy.
“Okay just call me I-Oh!” He stoped himself and ran back over to you.
“What’s wrong?” You asked with worry at his sudden move.
He ignored you and just leaned down to pull your shirt up over your bump and placed a kiss to the center of your belly.
“Bye sweet girl, be good for mommy” he whispered and placed two more quick kisses to the same spot.
“Had to tell her bye” he shrugged before placing a kiss to your head and heading out the front door.
When Cole returned home that night he found you bundled up and fast asleep on the couch, his heart warmed at the sight. He loved coming home to you and he always would, especially once your baby got here.
Scooping you up in his arms bridal style he carried you to your bedroom, his lips parted in a bright smile at the feeling of you cuddling into his chest.
“God I love you” he whispered to himself as he laid you down and watched you snuggle into your pillow.
Cole wasn’t sure what it was that made him do it but next thing he knew he was opening his phone to text Sophia, thanking her for tonight but that he wasn’t really feeling a relationship; it was a shitty lie but he knew the only girls he’d want in his arms were you and your daughter.
-
March 2022
“You look beautiful” a voice spoke from behind you causing you to jump.
“Christ Cole! You scared the shit out of me” you groaned as you turned around to face the blonde.
“I’m Sorry. But seriously you look gorgeous, stop judging yourself” he scolded you.
“I just feel fat! Nothing fits and my feet hurt” you cried.
It was the morning of your baby shower and all the dresses you had picked didn’t seem to fit anymore causing you to rip through your closet like a mad woman.
“You are not fat, you’re growing our gorgeous baby girl in there” he softly spoke as he made his way towards you.
He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you while his hands rubbed your belly, smiling as he felt his daughter kick him.
“You look absolutely stunning Y/n, and I love this dress” he complimented.
“Thank you but you’re not really helping” you groaned, head leaning back to rest against his chest.
“Yeah why not?”
“Because I’m an overly hormonal pregnant woman and you just turned me on when both of our families are down the hall”
-
April 2022
“Oh my god Cole she’s perfect” You whispered to the man who was still clad in his dress pants, button up and suit jacket long discarded due to wanting skin to skin with his daughter.
You had gone into Labor right as the Habs were exiting the plane from their short trip to Ottawa meaning cole rushed in right from the airport, not having time to change out of his suit.
“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he spoke in a soft voice, tears brimming his eyes as he continued to star at his daughter.
“I can’t believe we made that” you laughed
“Thank you” he suddenly said as he turned to face you, face as serious as ever.
“For what?”
“For giving me a family. I’ve never seen myself settling down or having a child but you’ve blessed me with the most beautiful thing in the world. I truly can’t thank you enough Y/n, I’m so thankful you were the one I was able to do this with.”
“Cole come here” you cried as you pulled the man onto the bed with you, carefully of course.
“I’m thankful to you know, it wasn’t exactly on my bucket list to be a mom at twenty one but I’m grateful that it’s you I get to live through this with” you sweetly smiled at the man as he leaned his forehead against yours.
You felt his eyes shift from your lips to you eyes a few times and just as you were both about to lean in, a knock sounded on the door.
-
July 2022
“You know when I said to make a move I didn’t mean knock her up” Trevor spoke to his friend as he helped set up the candles on the dock.
“Yeah way to baby trap her Cole” Alex laughed from where he picked the petals off the roses.
“I did not baby trap her!” The blonde exclaimed causing his three friends to laugh.
“Hey we’re not judging man, you got the girl you wanted and found a way to keep her around forever” Jack spoke
“You guys are assholes, now hurry up and finish helping before her and Ellen get back” he replied with a shake of his head.
An hour later Alex was blindfolding you and leading you out the back door of the Lake house towards the dock.
“Turcs what’s going on?” You laughed hearing your daughter giggle at Jack and Trevor behind you two.
“Nothing! Just be quite” he sassed and continued leading you.
“Okay take it off” he whispered and when you did you felt warmth flood your cheeks and tears prick your waterline.
There on the dock stood Cole surrounded by beautiful bouquets of white roses and candles while red petals covered the wood below him.
“Wha-?” You muttered as you stumbled towards him.
“Hi” he whispered, taking your hands in his as you approached him.
“What’s all this” you smiled with warm tears now running down your cheeks.
“I uh-You-shit this is harder than I thought” he laughed at his self
“I know we haven’t exactly established what we are but um” he began but was cut off by a loud New York accent.
“Just get on your fucking knee!”
Trevor’s voice caused the group around you-that you hadn’t realized was there to laugh. However it did cause Cole to shake off his nerves and drop down onto his knee.
“Things have always been a bit tricky with us but I’ve always known that I loved you. You’ve been there for all my ups and downs, my lowest of lows and highest of highs. These past eleven months have made me realize that I want you forever, I Want to go to bed to you and wake up to you everyday, I’m sick of telling people your just my best friend because baby you are way more than that. I’ve spent everyday loving you and I want to do that forever, so what I’m trying to say is, baby will you marry me?”
A sob broke through your and if it wasn’t for the smile on your face and nod of your head Cole would have been panicking.
“Yes, A thousand times yes” you cried as he slipped the breathtaking oval diamond onto your finger; the ring you showed him in college drunk off your ass, telling him that if someone ever proposed you wanted this one.
“I love you so much” you whispered as his cupped your cheeks to pull you into a kiss.
Your short moment was interrupted by Jack running down and jumping on Cole while Trevor handed you your daughter. Your families joined to share hugs and congratulations, both of your mothers smothering you in kisses and sweet words.
“Fucking finally Cole grew some balls and made it official” you heard Trevor exclaim causing a round of giggles and head nods.
-
April 2023
“Look Rosie! Here comes daddy and uncle Kirby” you exclaimed to your daughter as she stood against the glass.
“Ada!” She giggled as Cole slammed himself against the glass
“Hi baby!” He waved blowing the small one year old a kiss.
He went to open his mouth but his body was pushed out of the way by three large ones causing your daughter to beam brightly at the three men.
“Hi Rosie!”
“Ahoj Kočka”
“Hi pretty girl”
Spoke Arber, Juraj, and Kirby in sync, all three men smiling brightly at their niece, your daughter babbled in return smacking the glass with her tiny hands.
“Can you fuckers move!” You heard your fiancé yell as he pushed between Arber and Juraj to get back in his daughter’s sight, this time with a puck.
“Here baby, daddy got you a puck” he smiled and tossed one over the glass for you to catch.
You smiled fondly at the two, while you hadn’t expected to be a young mom you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You were madly in love with an amazing man and had a beautiful little girl together.
The journey was bumpy but in the end you got the life you’d always wanted
-
The end…
I apologize for any errors!
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zackmartin · 2 years
Text
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Text
Dating King Ben Would Include…
Holy shit,
This is a lot.
Def NSFW
Warnings: sex, language, not proofed, I’m a slut
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- r u actually kidding this man
- Idek where to start
- How about this
VK
- the moment he lays eyes on you
- Fuck
- When he smiles at you for the first time???
- Bye.
- Falling for the king-to-be was NOT part of the plan
- But he’s so goddamn cute
- You slip into the stands at his tourney game
- He makes a great play and you let out a cheer
- Surprising everyone around
- And he just grins at you
- There’s a party that night
- You show up in your most flattering dress
- And Ben cannot take his eyes off of you
- (The beast inside is awakening)
- He asks you to dance
- his big hands fit on your waist so perfectly
- Your hands loop around his neck and your fingers play with his hair absentmindedly
- You’re so nervous
- He pulls you closer to him and whispers into your ear
- “Relax.”
- Hello???
- He’s so in love with you UGHHHHAGGGA
- not following plot anymore screw it
- “You coming to the game tomorrow?”
- “Why should I?”
- “I can think of a pretty good reason.”
- SHAMELESSLY FLIRTS WITH YOU
- “If we win, I get to take you out on a date”
- “And if you lose?”
- “We won’t.”
- Ben fucking winks at you and just
- Up and leaves
- Someone take the confidence juice away from him!
- You go see another one of his games and after he wins, he runs up to you, sweaty and grinning, gorgeous as ever
- Before you say anything
- His head dips down to your ear, hands slipping around your waist
- “My car is waiting for you. I’ll be there soon”
- The mf had no fucking doubts that they’d win
- He gives you another million dollar smile before jogging away
- Leaving you flushed and a little turned on?????
- The date is absolutely wonderful.
- He changes ur perspective on everything
- Makes you his queen eventually
AK
- He’s such a gentleman omg omg
- PRINCESS TREATMENT OMFG
- Opening doors for you!!!
- Pulls out your chair for you!!!
- Ur a cheerleader
- He’s def the kinda bf to score and point at you like
- “Scored that for you, baby!”
- You wanna roll your eyes but can’t bc of his damn smile
- Don’t even get Ben started on your fucking uniform
- He’s down bad fr fr
- You in the colors of his kingdom??? HELLO?!
- He’s gone
- Such a fan of public PDA
- will kiss you ANYWHERE
- seriously
- Always has to be touching you
- The beast in him tbh ur his
SEX
- everything this guy does is
- Always turning you on fr
- At the worst times too
- He’ll just look at you and give you the smile he only does while balls deep inside of you while at dinner with his parents
- And he knows it too
- The way you blush and look away?
- He KNOWS
- Please he gets weak in the knees when you say his name/title
- “Benjamin”
- “King Ben”
- “King Benjamin”
- “Your Majesty”
- Bye
- I imagine that he’s so sweet at first but you can tell that he’s holding back (beast boy HELLO?!)
- You have to convince him to finally just let it out
- What does that entail?
- Let’s make a list!!
- Scratch marks on your thighs
- So so many hickeys (he doesn’t fucking care who sees, he’s the king)
- Finger print bruises on your waist and hips
- BITE MARKS
- shit
- This man has a heightened sense of smell
- So like… beware
- Low key high key loves the way you smell
- Will not stop sucking and biting on your neck bc of it
- BEN IS A DOM IM SORRY NOT SORRY
- it’s such a stress relief for him!
- Seriously as king he needs to release his stress somehow
- You luv when he’s rough with you
- A full on Edward Cullen breaking the bed moment and he’s scared to even touch you
- And ur like “Ben do it again”
- He’s all 😮 “wut”
- “Please?”
- And bam thinking with his dick again
- You love it when he fucks you in his office
- In between meetings
- When anyone can walk in
- “Don’t want everyone in the castle to hear your dirty sounds, now do we?”
- BEN IM SORRY
- HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP QUIET WHEN UR LITERALLY REARRANGING MY INSIDES ON YOUR DESK
- Riding him while he’s in his desk chair
- The staff is quite confused when he asks for a mirror to be hung as a decoration on the opposite side of his desk
- It’s so you two can watch obvi but they don’t know that
- OMG the two of you at formal events and he cannot keep his hands off of you
- The things he whispers in your ear my GOD
- looks like the two of you are just innocently dancing but if they really knew the dirty things he was saying to you
- “What would everyone think if they knew how turned on you are right now?”
- “You taste better than all the food here.”
- Like r u kidding me he’s the dirtiest guy
- MASSIVE DICK ENGERY
- Its unfair
- Him pulling you out of the ballroom to absolutely ravish you with his parents and subjects a wall away
- Him just fucking you while wearing his crown omg (cant stop thinking about this)
- He’s so needy all the fucking time
- Anyways back to office sex
- It’s his fav
- Literally you’ll be on his lap and he’s fucking up into you and he will get a phone call
- Motherfucker GRINS at you
- “don’t make a sound”
- And then ANSWERS IT.
- KEEPS FUCKING YOU THROUGH THE PHONE CALL
- NO MATTER HOW LONG IT IS
- Oh and def makes you keep eye contact with him the whole time with his hand on your throat
- Ben with a beard????
- Between your thighs??
- With the fucking fangs?????????
- DEAD
- DECEASED
- BYE
- GONE
- Is always down to eat u out
- Such a golden retriever bf about it
- Def fingers you in the car
- If ur driving??
- “Eyes on the road”
- 💀
- If he’s gone?
- You best BELIEVE he’s calling for phone sex
- “C’mon let me hear you. You sound so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”
- Soft mean Dom soft mean Dom
- Will hop in the shower with you just so he can wash your body
- Also makes you come with the shower head
- Loves boobies
- Loves ass
- He can’t decide which he likes more
- Loves making you watch what he’s doing
- If he’s going down on you?
- Eyes on him at all times
- Fingering you?
- You better be watching it
- That’s why the mirror comes in handy
- When you lock eyes through the mirror?
- His crown is lopsided and he’s just
- He’s just
- You know
- FUCKING KING BENJAMIN
- And he’s always smiling at you
- He knows what that smile does to you
- Uses it to his advantage
- He knows he’s pretty
- He loves waking up before you after a long night of straight up fucking
- He sees the damage done
- By him
- And it just gets him going!
- You wake up with his head between your thighs
- “Morning”
- It was in fact a good morning
- his morning voice adds to it
- You loooooove to tease him
- Low key flirting with another guy, if it’s fucking Chad you better get prepared
- Wearing an outfit you know he loves in a public place when he’s with his parents doing his king duties
- Putting your hand on his inner thigh during a meeting
- I hope you know what you’re getting into!!!
- He storms into his room that night where you happen to be lying on the bed, oh so innocently
- Wearing his jersey or a button up of his
- You don’t bother looking at him, already trying to hide the smirk on your face
- You can feel the glare as he shrugs off his suit jacket
- And removes his tie
- And loosens his collar
- And pushes his sleeves up
- (your favorite Ben look)
- He knows this ofc
- Sets his hands flat on the bed and just stares at you
- Finally you look up, a giggle escaping immediately
- “You think it’s funny, do you?”
- His hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you towards him
- His knee settles between your legs as he leans over you
- “Answer your King when he speaks to you”
- “Yes, your majesty”
- His head drops back and something (THE FUCKING BEAST) ignites inside of him
- He laughs
- Not like his true laugh
- A dark, sinister laugh
- Coming from Ben?
- Noble, brave, and good Ben?
- When he’s about to fuck you into oblivion?
- Good. Fucking. Bye.
- What’s Bennyboo up for??
- So much
- He’s horny ALL THE TIME
- highest sex drive ever
- Esp with the fucking beast
- He can go for hours
- King (lol) of stamina
- “You can do it baby”
- “C’mon, one more for me”
- “Fuck you’re doing so well”
- “Good. So so good”
- He’s loud as FUCK
- not embarrassed about it all
- No fucks given
- Will walk out of his office he was just bending you over in to greet his father in the next room like MAN ISN’T PHASED AT ALL
- And you’re catching your breath like 😳😳😳
- On one hand, he’s so nice and genuine and so well mannered
- And then when it comes to you, he’s a cocky little shit who can’t keep it in his pants
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flowercrowngods · 6 months
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a tiny thing for @eddiemonth day 06: crush & sincere
“I will crush you beneath my heel like vermin.”
Like thunder, the evil wizard’s voice rolls over the battlefield, leaving fear in the heart of everyone who’s alive enough to hear it and rattling the bones of those who aren’t.
Men and women alike, soldiers and knights and able bodied young men, watch with bated breath as Sir Steven, the bravest of them all, rises to his feet again beside the black-clad wizard, his grip on his trusty sword never wavering as he wipes blood and sweat from his face.
There he stands, heroic as ever, meeting the evil wizard’s eyes with a heated glare of his own.
“Try,” he says, standing his ground as his voice, too, is carried over the battlefield. Carried, indeed, for the wind blows in his favour, the sun shines only for him, and the ground beneath his feet holds him up like a trusted friend, a most beloved brother.
Sir Steven reaches towards his neck, feeling the band of leather against overheated skin, a charm resting just above his heart — right where it belongs.
The wizard doesn’t have what he has.
***
A soft chuckle abruptly changes the scenery and rips Eddie into a different world once more; sun glazed battlefields replaced with the darkness of his room, hard soil replaced with the softness of his bed, and a knight turns into a beautiful boy wearing his favourite shirt.
“A magic used guitar pick necklace? Is that what the evil wizard king doesn’t have?”
Steve’s eyes are closed but the smile on his lips shines bright, and Eddie can’t even be mad about the interruption. He reaches out a hand and trails his fingers through Steve’s hair, gently combing back the locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. The smile dims a little, turning into something more genuine.
“I can’t believe you interrupted me at the best part there, Stevie. I was going to make a heroic entrance as a dragon shifter, called to the knight simply by touching the charm.” He keeps up his slow and gentle caresses, his hands trialing down to Steve’s cheeks and neck, where Eddie’s necklace clings to overheated skin indeed. “It means a lot, you know, a charm like that.”
Steve hums, moving closer to Eddie, seeking his warmth and his touch alike, and Eddie can’t possibly refuse him.
“It could save the world, you mean?”
“Hmm. The world. A young boy’s heart. And everything in between.”
Steve blindly reaches for Eddie’s hand and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, and another for good measure.
There’s a weight to their words that’s not meant for moments like this, but it hangs in the air nonetheless, and Eddie breathes it in. The weight of a past survived and a future acknowledging that. Both of them shared like this moment. A promise.
“So what happens next? With Sir Steven and the evil wizard, and with Eddie the dragon shifter. That’s very fitting, by the way, you little hoarder,” Steve laughs, still keeping his eyes closed, and Eddie can’t help but join in, overwhelmed with affection for this boy.
This sunshine boy who’s having a bad day and a fever but still manages to be the most radiant thing in the world. This wonderful boy who asked Eddie to stay and tell him a story until he falls asleep.
“Don’t feel good? Do you wanna stay in bed, baby?”
“Yeah. Can you stay?”
“Of course. Cuddles?”
“Could you maybe… Could you tell me a story?
“I’ll tell you any story you want, sunshine.”
This incredible, insufferable boy who’s too nosy and too sassy for his own good, interrupting Eddie here and there to ask questions or give a snarky little comment that’s dripping with fondness whether he’ll admit it or not.
This boy. His boy. With the smile and the wild bed head and the insistent tug on Eddie’s hand to tell him what happens next.
And so Eddie continues his story about the evil wizard being defeated and the world celebrating the heroics of the knight and his dragon and their unlikely band of friends. If he adds a little Lord of the Rings imagery here and there, Steve won’t know about it anyway.
Before he reaches the end, Steve’s hand goes slack where it’s tangled with Eddie’s, and his breath evens out, the smile never quite fading from his lips. Eddie keeps talking, though his voice is hushed now and thick with a smile of his own now.
He loves him. God, he loves him so, so much, he can barely stand it.
“Good night, Stevie,” he whispers even though it’s barely three in the afternoon. He gets up and out of bed, tucking the blanket around Steve’s sleeping form and brushing one more kiss to his hair before sneaking out of the room on slow, quiet steps.
Outside, Wayne is reading a book on the porch, a cigarette in his hand. Eddie snatches one from the pack and leans over his old man to brush a kiss to his hair, too, feeling far too full of affection right now and needing to let it out. There is a sincerity inside him that needs to be shared.
Wayne lets out a gruff kind of hum, but Eddie isn’t so easily fooled, smiling as he lights his cig.
“How’s your boy?” Wayne asks.
“Asleep for now.”
“Good.” There’s a moment of silence between them and Eddie closes his eyes against the afternoon sun for a moment, drawn back to his story. “You let me know if he needs anything.”
“Of course. Thanks, Wayne.”
“Sure. Just wouldn’t wanna be crushed like vermin, is all.”
The laugh bubbles out of Eddie before he can help it, sincerity replaced by something lighter, something manageable for now as he lets his uncle bully him for telling ridiculous stories to the boy he loves so endlessly.
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joeybsversion · 7 months
Text
Since Her
Joe Burrow x Reader
Joe dates his teammates little sister
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The low buzz of your phone distracted you from your show again.
Joey: Come over
You rolled your eyes before sending off your response “aren’t you with the guys?” And turned your attention back to the TV.
Another buzz. “I’m never going to get through this episode.” You grumbled to yourself.
Joey: Yeah but you can come
Joey: please
You turned your attention back to the TV, ignoring your phone. Another string of buzzes distracts you again. This time though, it was a phone call.
“Hello?” You answered.
“Are you coming?” Joe asked.
“Joey.” You giggled. “You’re with the boys. And my brother is there. It’s awkward.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my girl and you’re my priority.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his response. “You know Sam doesn’t like the idea of us being together.”
“Please.”
“Fine.” You said, giving in and climbing from your bed to get ready.
You quickly fixed your makeup and slipped out of your sweats. “So much for getting caught up on my shows.” You clicked the TV off and headed out the door.
Joe was having a small party at his place with some of his closest friends from the team. One of them being your older brother, Sam Hubbard. Sam did not like the idea of you and Joe together and made it extremely clear.
You anxiously pulled into Joes driveway, bracing yourself for your brothers reaction when he saw you come in.
You knuckles met the wood of the door as you knocked.
“What are you doing here?” Sam growled as he opened the door.
“I’m here to see Joe.” You stepped around him and made your way inside.
“You’re not. Because Joe knows better.” He grabbed you by the wrist.
“Sam. Stop.” You pulled your arm away.
“I’m serious. I told the team they have to keep their hands off my little sister.”
You glared. “You invoked a team wide hands off law? Are you kidding me?”
“Of course I did.” He answered smugly.
“Who does that, Sam? You can’t just go around and tell the team they’re not allowed to date me or you’ll kick their ass.”
“I didn’t tell the whole team. Do I look like I have that kind of time?” He flashes a grin. “I told Joe.”
“You’re unbelievable.” You rolled your eyes. “Why can’t you just let me be happy?”
“Here’s the thing, I don’t give a fuck if he’s a multimillionaire, or the king of England, you’re not dating him.”
“And you’re done telling me what I can and can’t do.” You turned your back and walked away through the house to find Joe.
“Hi Joey.” You smile at him as you find the quarterback in the crowd of people.
“Baby.” He smiled and ran his hands along your sides, pulling you into him until your chests are touching. You look up at him and he kisses you, sliding his arms around your waste with something that feels a lot like possession. You could feel Sam’s stare burning into the back of your head.
“Your brothers staring.” Joe nervously laughed before pulling you in for another kiss.
“Good.” You laughed and kissed him back.
“Do you wanna go outside?” Joe pulled a cigar from his pocket and flashed you a cheeky grin.
“Sure.” You smiled and took his hand, following him out back.
You could hear the music from the party outside. The weather was cooler and it was a perfect fall night. You slowly danced and swayed to the music as Joe pressed the cigar to his lips, getting a light buzz from the nicotine.
“Are you trying to seduce me? Out here dancing wearing this?” He questioned.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“It makes me think of you not wearing it.”
“Joe.” You muttered as he kissed down the side of your face.
“I want you so bad right now. But I can’t” he groaned, continuing to kiss down your neck.
“They’ve got you too, with these superstitions?” You pouted.
“Sam believes it.”
“Now you bring up my brother.” You laughed. “You really are trying to kill the mood.”
“I clearly and specifically told you, no sex after a home game win. It’s bad luck.” He blew out a puff of smoke from his cigar.
You rolled your eyes.
“You’re seducing me again.”
“What? How?” You laughed.
He shook his head, grabbing you by the hand. “Cmon, let’s go back inside.”
As you stepped back in the door you could feel Sams gaze on you again. You were sure he had just witnessed that incident outside and there was no way he’d be happy about it.
You can feel the tension in the air engulf you as Sam walks over and places a hand on Joe’s shoulder.
“Let’s go.” He flashes his cigar at Joe before leading him back outside. You stayed put in your spot.
Joe raises a cocky eyebrow and chuckles as he puts his cigar back between his lips. “I like her Sam.” He admits. “I really fucking like her.”
“Maybe that’s true.” Sam lights his cigar. “But what happens when you get bored in a week or a month or a year from now?” He lowers his voice ensuring no one else can hear. “You’re gonna break her heart, bro.”
“No I’m not.” He says simply, looking over his shoulder to watch you through the window. “I’m not that guy anymore.”
“Since when?”
He shrugs and blows his smoke out, grinning to himself. “Since her.”
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mavnagerie · 24 days
Text
monkey d luffy headcanons
* nsfw
minors dni | afab reader x luffy
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- let’s just start off bold and beautiful here, this boy fucks. his stamina is so incredibly high that if you can wrangle him down on a late night? you’re done for.
- on the deck after everyone’s asleep while he’s on watch duty?? HELLO
“cmon princess, don’t be so loud, you don’t wanna be caught right?” he says as he’s literally murdering your pussy on one of the chairs robin usually spends her afternoons reading on
- he WILL fall asleep with his cock inside of you, he’s done it so many times and you just lay there against him, a little frustrated until you fall asleep too
- although he is goofy, he’s less silly and more teasing when in bed with you. although sometimes his hard demeanor slips and he’s falling on top of you, the two of you giggling
- the entire time yall had been separated (during the timeskip), not once did he find pleasure in another woman, just his fist. that night the entirety of the straw hats knew to leave yall both alone
“fuck princess.. fuck yess fuck…” he cursed, whining loudly as his cock pushed into your tight , wet pussy. he whined and whimpered until he was fully inside, almost cumming instantly.
- luffy doesn’t usually whine and moan but when he is needy BOYY is he loud.
- there’s no sub or dom in the relationship just vibes. no but seriously, the two of you are so switch or vanilla or FREAKY that you just work. he can match your energy almost instantly if he isn’t too needy himself
- pet name princess because what’s a king without his…
“luffy, it’s a king and a queen, not a king and a princess” you bark at him. “no it’s not, princess” he giggles
- zoro joins in once n a while. gotta share with the homies yknow.
- in all reality luffy loves watching him fuck you, usually watching him while luffy fucks your throat.
- luffy LOVES cumming inside, he loves when you tell him to breed you, he loves watching his cum drip out of you and he loves the way his balls slap against your skin as he fucks you.
- tldr: luffy is a freak in bed and will fuck you like he actually has nothing else to live for, thank you
authors note: requests are open
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