#All for a... What? 2 mm shift?
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Attempting to design an amigurumi chibi and one of his hips is at a shaper angle than the other nfndjsk I accidentally gave him scoliosis
#Why do I keep inflicting harm on my stuffed toys bdbwhsj#First the crying bunny now this#It's barely noticeable tbf but I am a perfectionist and knowing that imperfection is there bothers me#Will I frog half of this and remake it? Very likely#All for a... What? 2 mm shift?#I am insane yes in case you were wondering#Maybe I'll just sleep on it and tomorrow I'll hate this significantly less lol#Happened for the hair of my last doll#Thyandra.txt#Anyway guys I know I keep posting about crochet but if this is annoying I'm gonna keep it to a minimum#It's just a new hobby that's completely eaten all my focus rn#You don't wanna know how many anime plushies I'm going to make#.... Trust me
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minted: two (explicit) | myg
title: minted: two (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: one | masterlist rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, yâall. thank you so much for the love on this series already! itâs been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! note 2: as always, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma/pstd, poor reader :(((, but also YES READER???, tension to the max, inner turmoil, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee⌠a ha ha, did i mention tension?, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn drop date: september 30th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.8k help me @ god
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Thereâs something to be said about the human gut.Â
Not for being the source of multiple health aspects, nor the way itâs connected to the brain.Â
But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.
Who is this person next to you?Â
Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run?Â
You donât know if you release your hand or if Yoongi lets it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.
How can someoneâs profile be so troublingly handsome? Youâd be able to think more clearly if he wasnât both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply werenât on the verge of collapse.
Frankly, if you didnât just murder a man youâd pass out as soon as you took too long to blink.Â
To keep yourself alertâand to hopefully gather some much needed intelâyou suddenly question aloud, âWhere are we?â
No answer.
Alright.
âThat driver called you Agust,â you recap on a second go. âWhat was that about?â
All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else heâs doing besides talking.Â
Okay. Well.
You can face forward, too.Â
âThose guys after us,â you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. âThey didnât look like Crane.â
âDoesnât mean they werenât.â
Your neck almost snaps when you turn. âAre you kidding me?â
As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you canât believe he doesnât agree.Â
Mm. Does he?
From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume youâre right to some degree. Because it looks like heâs very, very bothered by the people that chased you down.Â
If those werenât any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbersâŚ
What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?
Geez, itâs freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You canât even appreciate the way Yoongiâs veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.
Lies. You absolutely can. But thereâs no way in hell youâre ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesnât want anything to do with you!Â
Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too?Â
But that taxi driveâŚ
Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff.Â
Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved.Â
All you wanna do is go home, and you donât even know where that is.Â
How far did you travel? What district is this? Youâve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.
That brings up another question. âIf weâre in a grey zone, how did you knowââ
A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.
But the elevator doesnât say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on?Â
One thingâs for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if thereâs only one bed youâre hogging it or taking theâŚ
FloorâŚ
There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling.Â
But when the elevator doors slide open, you canât even fathom what the fuck youâre dealing with.Â
And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are.Â
âHoly shit,â you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.
Donât elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?
Forget a whole floor, itâs a whole other place.
You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.
The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like youâve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?
How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home.Â
And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors.Â
Perfect.
âWhat.âÂ
You turn at the scrape of Yoongiâs voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, âWho⌠Who even are you? What is this place?â
He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. âThereâs a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.âÂ
âŚIs that really his only response?
âThatâs not what I asked,â you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.
âBut itâs what you need.â
âSay what now?âÂ
The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket.Â
But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends.Â
This is all too much.Â
âYou know what I need? To go home,â you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. âHave a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.âÂ
You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm. âThe fuck are you doing?â
âShouldnât be that hard to figure out.â
âYou serious?â
âYes, I am. So move.â
Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps asideâwait heâs gonna let you go that easily?Â
âŚOh.
That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isnât one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than onceâin mere hoursâthat heâs no regular civilian.Â
But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization.Â
No matter how you slice it, youâre much better off with him right now than you are by yourself. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun.Â
He did keep you alive that whole chase.
But thereâs the smallest, tiniest chance that you arenât quite safe with him, either. You donât even know who this man is anymoreâmaybe you never did.
So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.
Good. You donât need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life youâve chosen to lead again.Â
Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done.Â
And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again.Â
Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal.Â
Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you donât, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back.Â
No good. No good no good you didnât plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance?Â
You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room youâll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic.Â
Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; itâs obvious he doesnât care so why should you? No going back now. Youâll figure it out. The doors are finally opening.Â
And someoneâs inside?
Wait.
Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.
Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a staff member, right? They wouldnât be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches.Â
However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire.Â
Because you canât do this alone. You arenât nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not.Â
You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse.Â
And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongiâs stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions you canât name.
Yeah, you fucked up.
Fuck.Â
Fuck you actually made a big mistake go back donât let the elevator close shitâ
As you lunge for the door, you get your arm through to block it from closing, turning to the employee inside and seeing their expression change.Â
What was that about?
âSorry,â you blurt to their pressed and polished grey uniform. âI forgot something inside.â
âI can wait, Miss,â they immediately offer, to which you politely and cautiously decline.Â
âNo need.â When you step out of the elevator, something happens that you think about hours and hours later. âIâll come down when Iâm ready, thank you.â
You can suddenly breathe again. Why was it so stuffy in there?
The worker bows stiff. âAs you wish.âÂ
Without pause, you nod, waiting until the doors close to face someone turned away.
Ugh. Itâs like Yoongi knew you werenât gonna leave. Either that, or he really didnât give a crap about what you did at all.
Either way, fuck this guy and fuck your indecisive ass!
In full aggravation, you march through the entrance before grating out, âYouâre lucky Iââ
âShower.â
âWhat?â
âThe blood,â he calmly breathes. âIf youâre gonna hit the streets, wash it out.âÂ
âIt isnât mine.â
âI know.â
Your mouth snaps shut.Â
Fuck. Yoongiâs right.Â
âOkay. Well,â you scoff, âGood point but how can I trust you to not do anything.âÂ
When he tilts his head with a bored, unamused, borderline ticked off expression, you almost scoff before he drawls,Â
âNot interested.âÂ
Oh. HeâsâŚÂ
Oh.Â
But the taxi and the hand-holding and the the the kiss what the hell? Was your liplock not up to this Dragonâs standards? Why are you questioning something so trivial?Â
The nerve. You plunge your shoulders in exasperation, hating how you chose to put yourself in another situation with this pain in the ass and he isnât even⌠âI swear toâYou know what? Good. Not interested, either.â
A lie.Â
Scrambling, your stomach speaks the next sentence for you, âBut there better be food when I come out cus you robbed me of lunch today. So do something about that.âÂ
Fucking hell you do not need his lips to quirk up so deliciously. That one look completely offsets what he just said and annoyingly tickles your core.Â
Stop. Focus. You cannot entertain any of those thoughts so ignore him and find a bedroom.Â
Opening the first door you can see, you continue your tirade, âAnd no more stealing my chopsticks.â
âCloset.â
Of course itâs a closet! Shutting it with force, you let out a high curse. âWho needs a closet here? Whatever, justâfigure it out, Iâm starving.â
âYes, princess.â
You flick Yoongi off as you blaze down the hall, not even knowing nor caring if he sees or not.Â
The next door works, and you shut him out before falling back onto its weight, so fraught with emotion that you canât even register the appearance of the room.Â
Today has aged you multiple years. So much has transpired ever since this afternoon that you canât even think in straight nor curved lines. As soon as you remember something, another thought juts between. Why are you simultaneously thinking about dingy, stained floors while agonizing over Yoongiâs lips? Is there a place other than hell or heaven you can settle on?Â
As soon as youâre physically and mentally patched, you are out of here.Â
The plan is simple. Shower, eat, give this man a piece of your manic mind, then go home.
Although⌠It would be nice to at least know whatâs in that duffle. If itâs something worth taking you could finesse a piece of the loot.Â
Swallowing dry, you push yourself off the door and finally notice a flood of ambient light.Â
At your side, you come across an expansive bathroom, eyeing the wall-to-wall entrance before taking in the center shower with disdain and awe.
The whole setup is lavish.Â
Does the water just fall straight from the ceiling and into that large square tub? This looks nothing like your cramped, chipped one back home. Thereâs even lush plants lining the area and towels already folded nearby for use.Â
Maybe you did get killed on the run and youâre in some type of dreamworld.Â
Too bad you arenât alone.
As you drag tired feet onto heated tile, you search for the shower knobs, realizing you have a whole panel to work with instead.Â
Uhh.Â
What.Â
You quickly find that one button blows water like a hose straight from the top, scaring you so bad you jump. When you hastily try another, something whirrs in the floor that has your brows kissingâ
âYou good?â
Fuck!
You flinch and hit the wall, groaning when you see Yoongi lazily resting against one side of the bathroom entrance. Both of your voices echo in the extravagant interior.
âYou ever knock?â
âNo.â
âShocker.â
He walks up the tiny steps, and youâre more than relieved youâre still wearing his jacket. When he gets closer, you turn and face the panel, âI can figure it out.â
âMove.â
You get slightly displaced as he gets close, resting a hand on the wall while bending to operate the buttons. As you inhale his musk, you respond to his second question instead of his first. âWhat?â
âIs this fine,â he repeats, checking the settings before turning to the shower area.
Oh. Wow. Itâs a lot more than fine.
A circle of rain falls into a beautifully lighted tub, steam wafting through the glow and coating your skin.Â
Youâre so entranced that you are quite literally left speechless. Skirting around your present company, you gaze up, down, silently observing the plants sway with the shower air.Â
Strangely, this whole bathroom makes everything youâve seen today believable because of the sheer wonder of it all. Itâs almost enough to make you forget what youâve done.Â
Almost.Â
When you pause, you see Yoongi watching your face from beyond the rainfall. And he looks so handsome, even now, not doing a thing.Â
Is it because heâs clearly roughed up but still so poised? Very unlike you in your banged up, dirty state?Â
Huffing, you fold your arms a little too harshlyâout of jealousy or whatever else, who is to say. âIâm good now,â you proclaim, keeping your walls high. âI can do the rest myself.âÂ
Again with that little slant.Â
Ignore him ignore him. If Yoongi keeps doing that, youâre really gonna have to brave the outside world instead of dying by smirk. A tub has never been so interesting in your life.Â
âSuit yourself.â
You look up again.
But heâs already left you alone.
Solely to undress and contemplate what the hell he implied by that.
Why did you walk left today instead of right?
Under scorching rain in the middle of luxury, this is the question you repeat in your head. Watching all the burnt streams of your decision swirl, and swirl, and swirl.Â
The blood will never wash out.
Does the price of saving a life have to be this high? It must be somewhat divine, being that in order to save, you took. If only there was another way to achieve that end goal. Though thereâs no way to do it all over again to be sure.
Staring at four chopsticks on the ground, you try to assure yourself. You need to.
Because at least you succeeded.Â
But will your price be more damning because of the one you saved?Â
Rushing water mutes your hearing as it pours onto sore limbs. When you reach for the scrub for a third time, you make sure to really dig, scraping at every. Single. Inch. In a last attempt to cleanse yourself completely.
Knowing that even after the water runs clear, you still see nothing but red.
You chose left today.
If you had chosen rightâŚÂ
Doesnât matter.Â
Your palm tingles.
Blood never really washes out.
Holy fuck, you donât have clothes to change into.
Wrapping yourself in plush material, you hastily pad around freezing floors as you think of a plan.
You canât just ask for them. How would Yoongi even have any for you? The jacket was more than enough borrowing for today and youâre in a hotel room, not his place.
Thank the universe. Â
But the matter is pretty urgent. Because youâd rather burn your belongings before putting them on again. Which leaves zero clothing and a thousand issues. Fuck.Â
Dragging feet to the massive sliding doors, you steel your resolve. Hoist your shields back upright.Â
Because thereâs no choice. Youâre just gonna have to dread another conversation with this man. An embarrassing, awkward, unprecedented shit why is he in the bedroom!
You flinch backward as you slam the door closed. Peeking out, you gawk, âWhat the hell are youâ?â
Did Yoongi just pocket a phone?
The duffle rests at his feet.Â
Wait. Did he stay in here while you showered? Thank god you had the foresight to slide all the doors shut because you definitely spent a lot of your time scrubbing like mad or standing completely still.Â
No. Yoongiâs hair is wet, so he did shower at some point. And heâs donning a robe, which is precisely what made you slam the door shut.Â
How can he look like royalty wearing that? The material is quite lush and silken, but still plain. It makes no fucking sense and you wanna rip it right offâ
Gathering yourself, you rush out, âWhy are you in here?â
âYou took too long.â
âSo? That doesnâtââ
âIn my shower.â
Wait. What? âOh.âÂ
You slide the door open a little more to check his claim. And now that you finally see the room, you can tell itâs clearly been used already, clothes and bottles scattered about. âYou said pick one.âÂ
âI did.â Yoongi turns to drop something onto a dark comforter. âFigured you picked it on purpose.â
âNo, I⌠I didnât notice the room.â
âDoesnât matter,â he says after a brief look your way. âNot sharing the bed, though.â
âNo need,â you snip. âIâm leaving soon.âÂ
Motherfucker. Yoongi only regards his sheets with a smile that triggers your fight response. And you almostâalmostâdrop the towel.Â
Speaking of. How are you even standing in his vicinity with only a single piece of cloth? Are you seriously that exhausted you didnât even think twice about it?
Suddenly very, very aware of yourself, you squeak, âUmm.â He waits. âI donât have any clothes.âÂ
âThatâs what you get for kicking me out so quick.â
Your jaw hits the floor. âSo what, Iâm walking around with a towel? Are you out of your mind? If you think Iâm someââ
âFuck, relax,â he slowly groans to the ceiling. âI was gonna say thereâs robes in the closet.âÂ
You snap your mouth closed so hard it jangles. âThen just say that!â And you slam the partition closed before fast walking to find them.Â
Missing the way Yoongi huffs before staring hard at his bedroom door.
On your second arrival into his room, your steps and demeanor are a lot calmer.Â
Is it because heâs a lot calmer, too? Maybe. Is it also because you smell food, realizing he did exactly what you wanted? Maybe more so.Â
Noticing a table situated near balcony doors, you blink before regarding Yoongiâs sitting form on one of the chairs outside.Â
A man lounging while smoking in a robe should not be this alluring. And yet, thatâs the only word you can think of to describe him. Â
Throat drying and aching, you slowly walk over and take a seat, already ravenous enough to dive into broth head first. But you eye Yoongi while retrieving new chopsticks, scowling when all he does is flash teeth through the glass.
Do not engage do not engage do not engage.Â
Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on yourâÂ
âYouâre really mad about that, huh.â
You snap your head up to see him leaning on the doorway. âI was hungry.â
âThere was a cup of them on your table.â
âSo why didnât you grab those instead!âÂ
Yoongi ticks his brows before peering into the night. And he stays like that for awhile, letting a breeze lift his damp locks. âDidnât expect to see you there,â he admits. âGotta say you threw me off.â
Nu uh. No more heart skips for today. âI didnât expect to see you, either,â you too choose to be honest. âThought Iâd never see you again.â
âYou were going to.â
As curious brows furrow, you break your utensils apart. âFigured something happened.â Guess youâre being honest about a lot of things. âOr you found another tangerine girl.âÂ
Yoongi holds his look before taking a drag, smoke spiraling around his words, âWhy were you even over there? Youâre a bit far from Crane.â
You blink at his deflection.
What was that about? What is that look for?Â
Holding his gaze because you arenât done challenging him, you calmly answer, âI was shopping.â
âShopping.â
âMmhmm.âÂ
Falling silent, he observes a little longer before flicking ash off his cigarette.Â
And just like that, the conversation dies.Â
Itâs for the best anyways. If Yoongi kept prying, he was gonna get closer to the truth. And you wanna slip around that as much as possible.Â
But he keeps standing in the doorway, inked arm bending as he breathes in smoke. Donned in a dark robe and topped in teal, he suits Dragon perfectly. Way too perfectly.Â
Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your noodles instead.Â
Your noodles.
Your noodles.Â
Youâre not hungry anymore.Â
Something horrid jams up your throat, and you run through your day in flashes. The restaurant. The food. Dragons. The chopsticks. The kill. The chase. Yoongi. The kill the kill the kill.Â
Dirt and shouts and lifeless lips clog your hearing, and your grip loosens completely as your vision shakes and shakes why couldnât Yoongi have gotten anything else why does it have to beâ
A hand.Â
A robed arm.Â
Your new utensils come back into view.Â
But when you face reality, you donât see them put them back into your hand. You donât even see them dug in your noodles and left there.Â
Instead, you watch as Yoongi plants one palm on the table, slowly lifting strands from the bowl and staring right into your eyes,Â
âEat.âÂ
Words. Get them out. Something something communication. Key is communication. What the fuck is happening to your brain?Â
âI canât,â you finally croak out. âIâm not.. Iâm not hungry.âÂ
âYou are.âÂ
âNot anymore.âÂ
Nose scrunching, Yoongi suddenly drops the food and dumps himself on the chair nearest, stretching his leg and revealing a littering of scars. âDidnât know you were fine with wasting food.âÂ
The icy descent of his tone freezes your bones.
âThought you of all people would hate that.âÂ
âIâIâm notâItâs not thatââ
âThen eat.âÂ
âI literally canâtââÂ
âWater. Food. If youâre gonna waste all my shit, then leave.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
Is he serious? Youâre in the midst of post-traumatic shock and he canât take the hint? Youâre so appalled by this man that you canât even think straight.Â
âYou heard me. Stop acting like you didnât.âÂ
âOh, I heard you,â you snap. âJust double-checking what the fuck you said.âÂ
âSo you gonna leave or just sit there? If youâre staying Iâll just walk out the rooââ
âDonât.âÂ
Both of you still at your words.
And you have to force your palms to unfurl on your quivering thighs. One knuckle. Another. Nails leave half-moons in your skin.Â
Breath haphazard, you finally break. âJust,â you swallow, hard. âIâm not wasting it just give me a sec.âÂ
You donât want to tell Yoongi why you want him to stay. Despite him being the most infuriating person youâve ever met, it beats the alternative. And you donât want the alternative. Truthfully, thatâs another reason why you left the elevator earlier.Â
Yoongi looks pissed as hell.Â
But he hasnât moved.Â
And thatâs enough to get you to pick up your chopsticks and try again.Â
You stare. Stare. Stare. Mustering courage and inhaling all the aromas you indulged in just earlier today.Â
Fuck, you wanna hurl.Â
âYouâre gonna have to get used to this.â
Your gaze snaps to his, brows and thoughts knitted in disbelief. âWhat?â
âThis feeling.â Yoongi looks out the glass doors, hands resting on the arms of his chair. âThe faster you do, the better.â
Thereâs no way heâs serious. Get used to it? What reason would you ever have for doing that? Caustic, you scoff, âWhy, so I donât waste more of your food?â
Youâve never seen someone laugh in a negative way. But he does before sliding his eyes over. âSo when you have to do it again, you donât lock the fuck up hours later.â
You shoot up from your chair, hellbent on oh fuck you stood up too fast. âYouââ
Yoongi just watches as you grab the table for balance, wincing from the pangs in your head. Words grind through your teeth, unable to fully form beyond the light assaulting your brain.
âLike I said.â
Palms press against your forehead before you slump back into your chair.Â
âItâs better in the long run.âÂ
Technically, heâs right. Itâs better in the long run if you get used to this.Â
But thereâs no way you can do it again. Who does he think you are? Yoongiâs got to know that you arenât planning on making this a daily habit. This isnât you. You only killed to protect somebody. Killed to save the person telling you to basically get over it.
Fucking hell, this sucks.
Frustration and exhaustion sting the corners of your eyes.Â
Eat. Build your strength and get the hell out of here. Deal with it deal with it deal with it. Â
As you regrettably pick up your chopsticks, you donât care if your tears season your noodles. And quite frankly, you donât give a shit if Yoongi watches them fall, too.Â
Because theyâre liquid anger. Hot trails blazing down your face, hardening into sticky paths and dried rivers.Â
âWhat were you looking for.âÂ
Your eyes slide up to regard him, his arms folded and brows low. Because of course he doesnât care about your state, either. Of course heâd rather entertain his curiosity. âNothing you need to know,â you mutter, banning him from knowing another truth.Â
âDid you find it.âÂ
You swipe at both your eyes.
As spice coats your tongue, Yoongi keeps prying, âSomething you needed to go all the way there for?âÂ
âFuck off,â you dismiss, slurping and swallowing with ease. âI donât have to answer you.âÂ
âYou already are,â he responds, confident. âNow tell me. Is there one in particular you need?âÂ
Wait. You barely gave anything away, so how is Yoongi asking the right questions? Thereâs no way he actually knows what you were looking for. No way in hell.
This man is more dangerous than you thought.Â
âWhy do you even care,â is all you choose to say, more focused on your food now because above everything else, itâs quite fantastic. It somewhat reminds you of a past home, and you canât help but escape to those distinct walls. âItâs irrelevant to you.â
âBut I have what you want.âÂ
You take another bite before stilling, looking up to see Yoongi propping his head with roughed knuckles. âYouâre lying,â you drawl to his smugness, trying to act as if he didnât just figure you all the way out. Because he didnât. Thereâs no way. âAnd Iâm still leaving.â
âIf you stay, Iâll show you.âÂ
When you leer over your soup, he simply stares back with no hint of emotion.Â
And youâre so curious about what he means that you finish your whole bowl.Â
When you push it forward, you understand exactly what Yoongi did. It worked perfectly, and you have to hand it to him even though he mangled your character minutes beforehand. âThank you,â you offer some manners. âThis was gooââ
The scrape of a chair cuts you off, and your sentence dies in midair as you watch your runaway partner vacate his seat.Â
Good riddance.
He knows how to stay on your bad side, thatâs for damn sure.Â
But Yoongi simply heads back out to the balcony for another light. So you chalk up his swift exit to vices and not wanting to breathe your air. Or maybe heâs done with his fun and is already writing you off before you head out.Â
Clearing your bowl from the table, you walk out of the bedroom and bring it to the large kitchen, noting with a scowl that itâs obnoxiously bigger than half your floorplan back home.Â
Yearning pierces right through your chest.Â
The elevator is right over there.Â
You showered, you ate. You can leave as soon as you clean your dish.
Are you way too curious about what Yoongiâs gonna show you? Yes. But is that gonna stop you from getting out of here? No.Â
Well. This robe is hugging your figure perfectly and feels way too comfortable to just use for an hour or so⌠Plus, if you ditched it now, Mister Morals will scorn you for wasting that away, too.Â
How rude of him to assume that about you. Of course you arenât wasteful. The only times you let things go are when you absolutely have to, like you should have back in that noodle shop instead of braving the back staircase.Â
Scoffing to no one, you scrub your bowl in the sink, grunting explicatives and stabbing Yoongi with curses until you hear a distinct beep.Â
Was that the elevator?
You cut the water off with a twist.
Cautiously, you make your way across the kitchen, peeking around the corner to appease your curiosity and spike your anxiety.Â
A bellhop? Another grey uniform looking to and fro to survey the area. Itâs the same person that sent a look of panic your way before you went up to the room.Â
And your defense mechanism blares.Â
But before you can hide behind the partition, their eyes lock onto yours. Arm outstretched, the staff is motioning for you to⌠join them? Why?Â
Youâre the one bunking with a gangster. Why does this person make you even more uncomfortable? This feeling is just like the one you had when you called the elevator the first time. Was your gut warning you then, too?Â
Maybe itâs because you donât like the staff thinking they can come in unannounced. Grey zone etiquette or not, you canât see how this is ever appropriate. In fact, it poses so many safety concerns. How is this okay?Â
Walking into the foyer, you rest a hand on a robed hip. âCan I help you?âÂ
âIâm the one trying to help you,â they whisper, harsh and with another swipe of their hand. âYou have to get out while you can.âÂ
Wait. What do they mean while you can? âAnd whyâs that?âÂ
Sputtering, the bellhop sticks one foot out the elevator while pleading and, for some reason, that pisses you all the way off. âThereâs no time toââ
âGet. Your foot. Off my floor.âÂ
Is that fear in their eyes or surprise? âOh, apologies. I didnât realize you were⌠I thoughtââ
âThought what?â Your arms fold, weight shifting to your other tired foot. âSpeak up.âÂ
Frankly, you donât know where this newfound energy is coming from. All you know is that there are certain things you still despise and this person is ticking all the boxes.Â
âI thought you were taken, Miss. Iâm here to save you.âÂ
Pausing, you grip your arms, feeling silk gather under your palms.Â
Thereâs a lot you tolerate. Many things that a lot of people canât. But someone assuming youâre the weak one that needs saving? There is no quicker way to lose your interest.Â
Stepping towards the elevator, you unfurl your arms, robe swaying and billowing around your freshly showered legs.Â
âYes, thatâs right. Come on, we can take you away.âÂ
Hand on the entrance, you lean forward. âYouâre not taking me anywhere,â you command, finger pressing the button at your side. âAnd you arenât coming back up here until I say so.âÂ
Slowly, the doors slide shut, your reflection two halves in the metal shine.Â
Well.Â
So much for leaving.Â
You may spend more time here than you thought.Â
With more thoughts swirling, you spin, heading back into the kitchen to pick up the same bowl you were washing. Hoping you and your gut made the right call.Â
Yoongiâs a criminal and a madman. But heâs not⌠the worst. At least, not horrible enough to warrant someone coming up to steal you away.
Besides. Is Yoongi aware that staff can come and go as they please? He seems like the type of guy that would hate that.Â
Staying vigilant seems to be a little more important now.Â
Itâs soon after, when youâre placing the dish somewhere to dry, that you hear noise in the living room beyond the countertop. Looking up, you see someone much more familiar enter the space.Â
Hmm. Whateverâs in that duffle must be worth millions for Yoongi to lug it around everywhere.Â
As he dumps it next to the couch again, you donât choose to ask about it just yet. Only because you want to ease into it later when youâre both not at each otherâs throats. And while youâre not reeling from another strange encounter at the elevator.Â
So you go with a safer question instead, choosing not mention what just happened. âIs this whole floor⌠your place?â
Yoongi looks up. âOnly when I need it to be.â
Interesting. âDoes anyone else know about itââ
âDo you always ask this many questions?â
You blink. âI mean. I donât get by selling fruit cus Iâm quiet.â
âYouâre quiet with me.â
âAnd even then I get you to talk.â
Yoongi frowns slightly before moving away, more towards the sliding door leading out to another outdoor area.Â
God, this place is obnoxiously huge. Thereâs still a whole other half you havenât seen yet.Â
When you peer out, you watch as he leans against the railing, seeming to look both up at the building and down at the streets below.Â
Well. If you arenât leaving anytime soon, may as well offer some sort of peace offering. Maybe the two of you just need to chill the fuck out.Â
Rummaging through the kitchen, you manage to find some high quality beer in the fridge. On your walk to the sliding glass, youâre reminded of the time you gave him one before when he helped fix your cart.Â
That was so long ago.Â
Youâre so lost in thought that you barely register Yoongi whipping a hand to his waist when you walk outside. But you catch the metal just in time.Â
âItâs me!â you quickly alert before regressing back to annoyance, âReallyâŚâ
Youâve had way too much to deal with today. You donât need a bullet in your chest to be another problem.Â
Especially since his little maneuver showed a bit more skin than you meant to see.
Yoongi eyes you before his shoulders rest, and you stride forward to offer up the cold can in your palm.Â
But you decide to hesitate while he goes to grab it, and you instead open it to have some.Â
Ugh. High quality, your ass. This one is way too bitter.Â
Your companion snorts as you make up an excuse, âIâve had better.âÂ
âDo you even drink?âÂ
âWell, yeah,â you pout. Needing to prove it, you decide to keep the can. âLemme try again.â
Somehow, this leads to you sharing the beer with him, tasting the mix of alcohol and smoke even after he tosses another cigarette off the ledge.
Itâs not quite enough to forget, but itâs certainly helping. Observing the clouds so close and the city so far beneath your toes is extremely calming. Itâs almost like youâre flying.Â
âItâs different here,â you mention out of the blue.
âThis sector?âÂ
âThis high up.â Breathing in altitude, you sigh. âIâve never been higher than my fourth story. Itâs nice.âÂ
âItâs usually silent, too.âÂ
Your eyes slightly stab. âWhatever. You like having me around and just wonât admit it.â At this, Yoongi avoids direct contact. âMmhmm. Donât even try to hide it.âÂ
âYouâre useful to me.â You freeze. âThatâs why youâre here.âÂ
You shake your head. For someone deeming you useful, Yoongiâs pretty nonchalant about you dipping. Taking a tangy sip, you clarify, âBut you donât care if I leave? If someone comes to take me?â Â
He takes the offered can. âMm.âÂ
That answers that.
You should probably still tell him about what happened, though. His reaction could give more away than his words.
Instead, you drink in the night with your eyes. Knowing that you should know better about the company present.Â
The more you converse with Yoongi, the more you pick up. And one of those sad facts is that he doesnât give a shit about anything you do or donât do. Because all he really cares about is what he needs.Â
You canât do anything to change him. Fix him. Whatever exists in fairytales. So you decide to take the night in stride. Not give a shit about him, either, per se.Â
Your curiosity gets the better of you now. Not just about what heâs gonna show you, but about that duffle. You quite literally donât have anything to lose anymore, so may as well go for the question youâve been wanting to ask all day.Â
âI was gonna ask for a cut of that,â you divulge with a head-tilt to the bag. âBut figured you wonât even show me.âÂ
âWhy not?âÂ
âUhh.â You didnât expect this. âYou donât like questions? Youâre always secretive?âÂ
âNever talk to the streets, princess. Theyâll snitch on everything you say.â Â
âThatâs deep,â you admit, taking a once full beer in your palm. âBut Iâm no snitch.â
âI know.âÂ
Your look carries a slight pang.Â
âCome here.â Both of you walk inside as he plays with his lighter. When you round the couch, Yoongi dumps the bag right onto the cushions. âIf you wanna see whatâs in here, do it.âÂ
You stare before slowly walking forward and kneeling to unzip the bag. As your slide reveals the contents, youâre nervous about what youâll see.Â
But when itâs open, you freeze.Â
Itâs allâŚchil-don? Tons of money wrapped in sleek stacks with edges so⌠Crisp. New.Â
Wait.Â
These patterns.Â
These are il-don?Â
Holy fucking shit thereâs no way these are real. This is currency seven generations old. The first ever of the established system. Worth more than anything in current circulation, especially in their pristine state. Forget being worth millions, these are next to priceless.Â
Youâve never seen them like this.
âTheyâre some of the last in mint condition.âÂ
The shock value is so high you forgot you were alone. Slowly turning, your breath catches as you ask, âHow did you know where to find these?âÂ
âLike I said,â he drones. âStreets talk.âÂ
You look at the bills before glancing back up. âCan IâŚ?âÂ
Yoongi cocks a brow before angling his mouth. âTouch them? Do what you want, doll.âÂ
You blink at the name this time. Because him saying that with a fresh cig in his lips is making your stomach flutter.Â
Picking up a fresh stack, you inspect the ancient pattern inlay with eyes wide, admiring how paper so old can have such detailed engravings. âThese canât be real.âÂ
âThey are.â He shifts. âAnd most people never see one in their lifetime.â
You put the money back on the pile inside. Yes, these have got to be worth a fortune. But thereâs nothing else in the bag? No drugs, no lethal substances, anything? âWait, so. This is it?âÂ
Yoongi fully laughs before flicking his lighter again. âYou want something else?âÂ
âNo, Iââ You back away. âThereâs really nothing else in there?âÂ
Coolly, he lights up before taking the initial drag. âNah.âÂ
Smoke spirals around you. âI dunno what I expected but it wasnât that.â
Yoongi lets a wisp leave his mouth. You know itâs getting in your robe, but caring about the little things has now jumped out the window. âWhateverâs in that bag can feed half the city.âÂ
âWhat?â As you look, he walks over to what looks like a small section of a bar. âIs that why you stole it?â
âStole it?â Yoongi grins and shakes his head. âSure. Thatâs why we stole it.â
âWe? Leave me out of this.â
âToo late.â
âIâm serious.â
âSo am I.â
You step forward in anger, but you only get a sound out before Yoongi straightens, aura blazing,
âIââ
âSay I do leave you out of it. Nothing happened tonight, according to me.â He discards his fresh light in an ashtray, watching it die before sliding his gaze your way. âDoesnât mean whoever we just fought will suddenly leave you alone.â
Shit. He has a point. You ran for so long and fought plenty of those guys.
Is this what he meant? Getting used to that feeling? Maybe your consequence is joining the cycle of the damned, forced to kill in order to protect. Both others and now yourself.Â
âBut Iâm⌠Just a nobody. A civilian, IâŚâ
Yoongi walks until heâs in front of you, hand cupping your chin and voice whispering mortifying allegations in your ear,Â
âYou took a body for a Dragon, love. Youâre not a civilian anymore.â
Your arms shove him backward without pause, face distraught as you watch his smirk bounce with his shoulders. His cackle echoes mad through the room, pinging the floors and piercing through your robe.Â
Truthfully, it doesnât even feel like youâre wearing one. So naked and exposed in the open for this man to see. âYouâre despicable.â
âThat right?â His mouth sets as his lids lower. âAnd what about the one that killed and kept running?â
What.
âThere was a police car at the restaurant,â Yoongi continues, a reminder so sharp it slices clean. âYet you didnât turn yourself in.â
Your feet sink into the rug beneath. âThatâs notâŚâÂ
With measured steps, he stalks forward, a harbinger of horrific realizations that you donât want to hear, âYou didnât have to keep running. Didnât have to get in that taxi.â
Stepping back, you find the room so stuffy itâs hard to move. âYouââ
âCouldâve taken another train.âÂ
âStop.â
âCouldâve stayed in that elevator.â
What the fuck is happening right now?Â
Yoongiâs close. Very much too close, and the energy he radiates sets your instincts ablaze.
This is the man youâve been pining over this whole time? If you ever get back home, you have got to remind yourself to avoid him at all costs. Thereâs nothing good for you if you stay. Danger surrounds every inch of him, and thereâs no telling when youâll take collateral damage.
âBut you didnât,â he delivers the final blow. âAnd youâre still here.âÂ
Lifting your chin, Yoongi grins slow when you yank away.Â
âI shouldâve never saved you.â Gaze finally locked, you growl from within, letting a monster loose,Â
âI shouldâve left you for dead.âÂ
Wait.Â
Stop.Â
This isnât you. This isnât who you are. Youâre a helper. A healer. Those words came out so strange that youâre questioning how they left your mouth so freely.
Did you really mean that? Or was this some feeble attempt to hurt him?
Yoongi doesnât seem phased. But you clearly donât know him so itâs not likeâ
Something heavy and dark as fuck is placed in your hand, and you snap your eyes to his in utmost disbelief.
âGo ahead then.â
Oh, this man is psychotic.
âBe my guest.â
No fucking way youâre gonna do it. âStopââ
âIf you regret it, why waste timeââ
âSeriously, Iâm not gonnaââ
Yoongi forces your fingers flush against metal as he holds the gun to his forehead, both eyes piercing right into yours with no hesitation whatsoever.Â
And it is frightening.Â
All anger from before flees as fear and intensity rush into its place. Your brain fizzles and cracks as you try to wrestle out of his grip, and you feel burning at the corners of your eyes. âStop!â
âWhy.â
âIâm not gonna shoot you, the fuck!â
âYou sure?â
âYes!â
Mercifully, he lets go, pistol thrown as youâre tugged forward with aâ
âWhatâs stopping you,â he grounds out, formidable presence all-consuming. âTell me.âÂ
Youâre breathing so hard it hurts. âYouââa shaky heaveââYou are out of your fucking mind.â
When you struggle from his grip, Yoongi pulls you even closer. Reacting in a rush, you propel your knee up to wrap around his side and twist.Â
But he proves just as quick, gripping the bare skin of your leg as you shove him down against the sofa. Grunting, you both curve with the furniture, Yoongi locked onto your knitted, conflicted brows. Â
âYou regret saving my life,â he simply repeats to your frustration. âI gave you the chance to fix that.âÂ
âShut upââ
âBut your will is weak.â
âI swear toââ
âGuess I was wrong.â
Who the hell does he think he is? This guyâYoongi, Agust, whoever the fuckâhas no right to play with you so casually.Â
But something else is swirling inside your ribs. Because through his cutthroat words and actions, this man is somehow stirring the deepest waters of your soul. Ripples rumble and stretch into waves, tugging your toes in undercurrents of obsidian. Dark. Primal. Hazardous. All you.Â
Is it from being subjected to such a heavy dose of his power?Â
Or is it becauseâeven if just for a momentâheâs handing all that power to you?
Quite literally, youâre the one on top.
And Yoongi holds your gaze, unfazed by the way your robe completely spread open during your tumble. Or the fact that you have nothing beneath that silk.Â
He could easily take over. From the feel of his build beneath your hands and between your legs, you know he can.Â
But heâs not. Thereâs no hesitation. Heâs legitimately giving you the choice and reveals no ounce of remorse.
This revelation courses through your veins, pumping a new kind of life into your palms. You have a shot at a criminal with a bag of il-don waiting to be snatched. And you know you wonât take it.Â
And that alone alters the chemistry of your brain.
With more fear of yourself than anything else, you shake out, âIf Iâm killing you, itâs gonna be entirely my choice.âÂ
Heâs laughing? Youâre instigating a threat and heâs enjoying it? God, you are teetering on the brink of madness and another emotion that wonât dare be acknowledged.Â
Tugging Yoongi up a notch, you proclaim to the glint of his eyes,Â
âAnd when I do, youâll die exactly how I want.â
Yoongiâs lips slowly, dreadfully spread, teeth shining in the dim lamp lights that sharpen half his features. When he speaks, you shiver. Because itâs a mix of pride and fear, sprinkled with a hint of alarm,
âThatâs my girl.âÂ
The room quiets, your bodies locked in a way that youâll remember years from now. Breaths. Your bare chest hovering inches above his. If there were bystanders, they would no doubt get the wrong idea. Because if things were different, and if this man underneath you wasnât who he was, youâd entertain another type of ferality and not stop until morning.Â
To be fair. That same dark part of you would still do it.Â
But this is about the righteous part of who you are. The one that abides by the rules. The one that fights to keep days boring, uneventful, the same.Â
So you quell that monster pacing in your core.Â
One more exhale leaves your lips before you let him drop, sliding off his silken, tone form to quietly readjust your robe. Turning away, you focus on the night skies, wondering if the people back home are sound asleep as you should be.Â
âMy will may seem weak. But I donât care what you think of me.âÂ
Sound is crisp again as Yoongi rises to his feet. Around you, the air starts to lighten, cold slipping delicately into your skin.Â
Slowly tying the wrap at your waist, your words float to the ground, âBecause I know who I am. And no one can take that from me, not even you.âÂ
His presence fills the space at your back. But itâs muted. Less intimidating. Or maybe youâre just at your limit because you admit a little more than you intend,Â
âThis world has already tried enough.âÂ
Both of you come to another standstill, two black robes staining a room full of white. Even time itself gives you space, slowing and circling until youâre ready for it to flow straight again.Â
As a cloud shadows the light of the moon, you feel knuckles caress your neck. And Yoongiâs never sounded so calm as he starts, âTheyâll come after you.â
You slightly turn.Â
âYou still want to go back?â
A pause. A nod.
His knuckles continue to glide along your neck, slipping down your back before traveling the swoop of your shoulder. Everything in your body thrums, silently quaking because you have no idea where this is coming from and you canât say you hate it.Â
Quite the opposite. And that scares you more.Â
âIf you do, youâre dead to me.â
Of course. Youâve seen and know too much. Thereâs no reason for him to show up to your street now, especially if tangerines are all heâs looking for. He can always find them anywhere else.Â
But, for some reason, this still stings. In a way that irks even your reasonable side. Is it because of his touch? No. Thatâs only making you nervous from the fact that you probably arenât⌠as experienced as he is. The uneasiness is wholly from your own limitations.Â
âIâll survive without you,â you whisper resolute, chest squeezing when he replies,
âI know.âÂ
The same fingers get bolder, tracing down your arm before sliding along the wrap at your hip.Â
And you freeze.Â
Because the tension is palpable. The power is intoxicating. Itâs a new type of anticipation and you are fighting yourself to not give in. Donât let everything get to your head. Donât let anyone in again. Donât stray onto a path you canât quite navigate.Â
But fuck, you kinda want to.Â
Rocks slide against exposed skin when he decides to speak again. And it makes you wish the two of you were extraordinarily normal. Or that you at least knew what the fuck to do here because the attraction you feel is not as one-sided as you presumed.Â
âWhat made you stay.â
A breath you didnât know you were holding huffs out, and you swallow with difficulty. âI justâŚâÂ
Get it together. Keep up your guard. Itâs proving so hard, especially when his touches spark fires along your limbs. But you have to.Â
And therein comes another lie. âI wanted to know what you stole.â Gulping down the truth, you harden your resolve. âThatâs it.âÂ
With more restraint that you want, Yoongi bunches silk at your pelvis, hitching your robe and your breath all at once. When his other hand slowly holds your neck in place, you canât help but flinch, and his low hum pours lava straight down your chest,Â
âWhat a shame.â
Oh. Is this how it ends? Did your gut get it all wrong?Â
He could end your life with a flick of his wrist. You know far too much. Youâre not useful anymore.Â
âSomeone will take you back tomorrow,â Yoongi murmurs, proving every single theory wrong. âAfter that, youâre on your own.âÂ
And just like that, he releases you to stand alone.Â
Oh. Youâre going home.Â
Good.
This is good, right?
Your heart beats overtime, almost drowning out your entire thought process. The thumps and pulses seem to cut every string of consciousness short.Â
What was that? What was any of that?Â
Never mind. Nothing happened and you can keep it that way, for the better. Yoongi is risk draped in beauty, and once youâre back home you can cut ties with anyone like him for good. You saved him; he spared you. Itâs over.Â
âŚBut do you want it to be?Â
Yes.Â
Of course you do.Â
Clouds let moonlight shine again.Â
When you arrive at an answer, you turn to find that Yoongiâs already gone, duffle and all shut inside his room with a muted click.
A flip switches as you let exhaustion take over completely, falling onto cushions that still hold his scent. Inhaling, you drift into darkness, wondering how your final decision will affect the rest of your days.
Whether awake or asleep, nightmares are real.Â
Only this time, you arenât quite sure if the blood and guts youâre seeing are yours or someone elseâs. Canât discern the limb on the ground from the limb on your torso. Screams echo and ping from all directions, a cacophony of death that has you scratching at mania to stay sane.Â
Murderer. Murderer. A murderer that regrets who she saved. No, wait, thatâs not true. Youâd still do it again.
And you watch the same swing over and over. The same arc of finality. Those lifeless eyes. Closer. Closer. Sharper. Judging.Â
You were wrong. Were you wrong? Running does nothing and doesnât provide an answer. The ground under your toes gives out.Â
How far are you straying? How low are you sinking? If you told your neighbors who you killed for, would they be upset or betrayed?Â
Theyâd hate you. Their fingers aim straight. Their tongues fire bullets.Â
Theyâll hate you. Hate you. Hate you hate you hate youâ
A room bursts into view as you jolt awake. Sounds snap silent, the hum of the air all you can hear as you rub your eyes.Â
So much for sleeping. Thereâs no way youâll be able to now.
Focus on something else. Anything else. The past cannot be undone, so live with the choices you made and deal with the faces that haunt your dreams.Â
Staring into the dark, shapes and sharp edges slowly form, your vision sharpening with every passing second. Tiny pops and creaks tickle your eardrums, and Yoongiâs scent still lingers with your own.Â
You donât want to focus on him, but itâs better than what forced you awake.
A lot happened tonight. But also, nothing at all. Something is keeping you both together, tightening and squeezing the strings in your chest. But you donât know if thatâs from the adrenaline of todayâs events, or from the pure shock of your unexpected reunion.Â
Thereâs something else you havenât considered until now. Despite his unorthodox and hellish methods, Yoongi did keep your head on straight. You showered. You ate. You drank. You inhaled fresh air.Â
Your compass righted itself when you didnât blow his brains out.Â
The nothingness was all to your advantage. Was that all calculated, too?Â
One part of youâthe bright side of youâknows that it doesnât matter. No matter how helpful he was tonight, distance is crucial. Stay away from people like him. Theyâre all too cunning to be kept close.
But if leaping that crevasse allows you to keep your mind off everything else? If you need to stop the bleeding, why not reach for a cure?
Your exhale shakes as your shoulders fall forward, self-deprecation destroying your brain because what the fuck are you thinking? This is nonsense. Madness.Â
Maybe youâve just been insane from the very start.Â
Your breath quickens at the possibilities. The potential outcomes of what youâre about to do.Â
This is the most solid decision youâve made all night.
As your toes travel across plush, trek over marble, and arrive at their destination, the rest of your body quietly, nervously follows.Â
Raising your hand, you listen for movement. When you find none, you softly knock and wait for what seems like an eternity.Â
For nothing.Â
All that worry for naught. Yoongiâs most likely fast asleep and not dreaming at all.Â
Good. This is your sign to let it go completely. In the morning, youâre going back home. The nightmares will consume you and youâll wake up everyday to brave the streets. Assassins will be on the hunt for revenge. You wonât be saved by the boy in teal.Â
What a shame, indeed.
As you step to leave, you hear the door slowly swing.
And Yoongi emerges from behind, minted hair mussed over lowered lids and robe slipping down a tatted shoulder.Â
Fuck everything.Â
âI donât regret what I did and Iâd do it all again,â you admit with finality. To him, to yourself, to the ones youâll disappoint back home. âAnd I refuse to get used to this feeling because it reminds me Iâm still a good person.âÂ
Yoongiâs eyes donât change as he stares.Â
âBut,â you exhale with a shake. âJust for tonightâŚâ Â
This is it.
The brink of no return.
Your soul dips into the dark.
âPlease make me fucking forget.â
â
â
✠what do we feel! | 𼢠join the taglist 𼢠| masterlist
a/n: once again, i cannot thank y'all enough for being patient and understanding as i go through life while working on this and all the other writing projects we have going on! it means the world, and even though there were some not-so-fun asks to get, the supporting and wonderful ones are what i will continue to focus on! so if you've ever left something sweet, thought provoking, encouraging, etc - thank you from the bottom of my heart! you're what keeps this writer going. a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⼠of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! âĽÂ 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! ⼠no emails collected, no need to put in a username. itâs literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as youâd like! ⼠here! ++ more links: âĽÂ masterlist âĽÂ minted masterlist
#PART TWO IS HEREEE#bts fic#bts imagines#bts reactions#yoongi fic#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#bts smut#bts fanfic#*latest#ryenwrites#minted#*ryenfictalk#tw: violence#tw: blood#tw: murder
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â "I'LL GO EASY ON YOU," ⎠but you absolutely fucking destroy him.
â
nagi seishiro x gn!reader â° how come you've obliterated him in something he's so good at?
⯠content warning. mentions of video game gunfire, shooting, etc.
"sei, this game looks fun," you murmured, shifting slightly to adjust your position on his lap. his eyes remained glued to the glowing screen, the faint gleam of colours casting a hazy light across his face. his arms were looped firmly around your waist, thumbs expertly swiping over the controller in his hands.
as you were cozily nestled inside his sweater, filled with the subtle scent of his cologne, you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest. you observe him deftly move his virtual character across the battlefield, shooting enemies and cursing under his breath at each hindering obstacle. after being in this same position for quite some time, a sense of boredom had begun to bubble within you.
"mm, yeah?" he mumbles, resting his chin on your head. he tilts his head down to press a kiss onto your soft hair. "it is."
"can i try?"
he stays silent for a moment, the room filled with the sounds of obnoxiously loud bursts of gunshots. he finally takes a breath and speaks, his voice muffled against your hair. "tisâ really hard though. i donât think yâcan win,"
your brows furrow as you whip your head slightly to meet his gaze, raising your hand to pinch his cheek. "hmm, how would you know? i could be better than you!"
"yeah, yeah, fine," he pulls his face away from your fingersâ grip on his cheek. he gives you a faint smile, exiting out of the game and clicking 'new game'. "i'll go easy on you."
you slide off his lap with anticipation, grabbing the fluffy bean bag he had bought exclusively for you from the corner of his room, placing it next to him. giving it a pat to smoothen its wrinkles, you made your way to the tv stand's drawer in quick strides, retrieving an extra game controller.
"you don't have to, sei," you smile warmly, settling into the softness of the bean bag as you prepare to show nagi seishiro what you were made of. "i want it to be fun."
he nods, hesitantly clicking the start button. while watching the one-minute timer displayed on the screen, he remembers to explain the rules to you.
"basically," he begins, "thereâs a five-minute time limit. the person who reaches one hundred kills first, or whoever is the closest to one hundred kills, wins."
"yeah, i know, dummy." you tease, reaching out to tousle his hair, in which he responds with a subtle blush tinging his cheeks rose. "i've been watching you play for at least an hour now."
the bolded numbers on the now-split screen enlarge, signaling the beginning of the new game; 3...2...1...
you waste no time, immediately equipping your weapon, fingers swiftly moving along the buttons. silence was quick to envelop the room, thick with the weight of your competitiveness.
nagi shoots you a surprised, quick glance, before focusing his gaze back onto his side of the screen. suddenly, his attention is drawn to the corner of your part of the screen, where your kill count is displayed.
to say the least, this man was astonished to find out that youâve racked up 63 kills in slightly under three minutes. his eyes widened in disbelief ever so slightly, registering the number with admiration.
"what the heck..." he accidentally huffs, quickly pressing his mouth together as the sound of his confused voice reaches his ears.
you let out an amused giggle, "surprised?"
he does not respond, lost in his own muddled thoughts. how could he, after underestimating you so badly? how could he say anything when you, as you were currently speaking, have over 60 kills compared to his mere 34?
the white-haired boy feels a prick of suspicion creeping in; he hadnât known that his partner was an expert at video games. why hadnât you told him? he sighs, realizing that the person he could have played with all this time was right beside him all along; he would no longer need to play with his tediously boring game-mates or those doltish bots which he had always deemed a hassle.
then, the game came to an abrupt stop.
98 - 52
he stares hard at the game over screen, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "nuh-uh, let's do it again..."
"ahh, i told you i could win!" you cheer, your finger lightly tugging on the skin under your eye as you stick your tongue out in jest. "and sure, i really want to hit one hundred this time!"
a soft grumble escapes his pouty lips as he buries half his head under the inside of his sweatshirt, leaving only his eyes visible. "m'baby's so cocky..."
100 - 67
"fuck, again!"
99 - 75
"this game's gotta be rigged!"
96 - 56
"seiii, i'm boreddddâ"
"one mo' time,"
89 - 88
"ackâfuck this shit⌠i'm going to sleep."
you blink your eyes in silent amusementâ this was a side of him you had rarely ever seen. your usually calm, bored boyfriend trying so hard at something; it was adorable seeing him so invested, even if it was simply a video game.
but somehow, you had managed to fire him up enough to the point of rage quitting?
"yâknow sei, i was going easy on you..."
"..."
despite his muted response to the fuel you've added to the fire, you catch a glimpse of a proud smile tugging on his lips as he retreats back onto the bed, beckoning you to join him. âthat was fun⌠play wâme again, âkay?â
Š 2024 bluelockmaniac â do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
#๨ৠâ vivi writes.#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk fluff#bllk manga#bllk imagines#bllk nagi#blue lock nagi#seishiro nagi#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi x y/n#nagi x you#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro x you#nagi seishiro fluff#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n
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oofff flashing criminal!rafe through the divider glass when you visit him in prison đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°
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you promise yourself you wonât cry, and you donât â brows etched in a permanent knit as the stoic officer leads you through to the visitation centre. youâre seated infront of a glass window and a telephone, awaiting the men in uniform to escort your boyfriend into the room.
heâd been in jail for a few weeks now, and today was finally the day you were able to visit him. it had been long and lonely without him, your communication wittled down to measly 2 minute phone calls that was likely listened in on by guards or other prisoners. youâd only hoped he had been doing okay, trying to put the horror stories youâd heard of prison out of your mind.
they bring in rafe, the man looking already more bulky from his time away, head shaved and orange uniform worn lazily, the shirt open to reveal a wife beater. you try to swallow down the urge to fully check him out, the concern getting the better of you as you snatch the phone to your ear, staring at him with wide glassy eyes. a smirk tugs at his lips at the eagerness as he raises his own to his ear.
âhi, baby.â his voice comes through drawled but clear as day.
âhi, are you okay in there? do you need me to send you anything? iâ i just recently got in touch with this lawyer who said there may be a loophole ââ
âyeah uh, letâs not talk about that aâight? another time. iâm⌠iâm in here now, okay soâ letâs just talk. normal shit.â he raises his eyebrows, to show itâs not a request but more so a demandâ however at the end his expression melts into a reassuring smile. you sink a little in your seat, sucking in a deep breath.
âyeah, sorry.â you shake your head and he waves you off with a hand to show he didnât mind, leaning back in his seat with his legs spread a little, phone still pressed to his ear. you stare at eachother in silence for a moment before he speaks again. âthat dress⌠i havenât seen that one.â
âits new.â you nod, looking down at yourself. he presses a few fingers over his lips, nodding slowly as he stares at the way the fabric is taught around your chest.
âmm⌠walkinâ round lettinâ other guys see you like that, huh?â he speaks but itâs soft, like heâs not really accusing you of anything â but old habits die hard. you frown, shaking your head anyway and he returns your gaze with his eyes hung low.
âwore it for you.â
âyeahâŚâ he glances at the robotic officers stood stationed at the back of the booth, minding their business whilst simply doing there job. âwhy donât you uh⌠gimme somethinâ to remember when i head back in? hm?â he cocks his head, eyes jumping down to your chest again.
âlike what?â you sit forward slightly. you wanted to help him with whatever you could, you just wasnât so sure what he was getting at.
âlike⌠why donât you pull that dress down for a sec? just real quick baby, iâm tryna see something.â he lowers his voice, and your eyes naturally flutter at the nasally rich-boy drawl that comes through the phones receiver. you burst into a giggle, looking around at the other visitors.
ârafe!â you sweetly scold, and whilst his lips jump up just a tad, he sits forward like he means business.
âmânot joking, okay? look ifâ if i could reach through this glass nâgrab those fuckinâ titties right now i would, but i can not so iâm begginâ you to work with me here. you donât know what itâs like in here, kid â iâm a man starved, aâight, please.â he drops his voice even more to hiss in a desperate whisper and you look around, wetting your lips as you consider making your move.
you return your gaze to him, and as your dress was strapless all you had to do was pull it down. you giggle mischievously as you do so, pushing your tits together with your hands, squeezing at them a little before yanking your dress up after you suspected the officer taking peeks. rafe grins, pleased â before shifting in his seat, adjusting his crotch area and glancing around. âmm, sâwhat iâm talkinâ about baby.â
âi miss you.â youâre still giggling, the smiling gently fading into a pout and he presses his lips together with a nod.
âmiss you too. when i get outta here itâs fucking over for you, hope you know that. donât expect to be walkinâ for a few days. thatâs a damn promise.â
âwell, i look forward to it, big bad rafe cameron.â
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Batmom Cass : enter Barbara
Part one of 2
âYou did good work,â Barbara said, in a casual tone. Proud.
Timmybird nodded and gave a flash of teeth in a smile. Didn't believe. It's nothing, look away. âGlad you think they'll pass.â He rolled his neck. âI don't want anyone to be able to prove he's Danny F.â
Cass watched their interplay casually, hair damp from the post-patrol shower and comfortably swimming in an oversized sweatshirt. She played with the ends of the sleeve as they talked.
âThey can suspect it all they like, but it'd be hard to disprove this is a separate kid.â Barbara ran her palms over her wheelchair handles in an unconscious tic that meant she wanted to go, go, go. âStill, I like the idea of keeping him out of the public eye until we nail down what's going on in Illinois. This GIW group is bad news.â
Cass bit her lip and flexed her toes, uncertain. Danny was getting restless. And he was a teenager: he needed to be in school. He needed to learn, stretch his wings, grow.
But safe. He needed to be safe, first.
The trouble was she didn't know how to make him fully safe. She'd had him for four days now. Judging by the report of his death, Danny baby had been homeless and on the run for more than a month. He was hiding. Even when she was in the room, he was looking for attacks. Who was he looking for? Dad and mom Fenton? GIW group?
â-gonna hit the showers,â said her little brother.â Cash barely registered him heading to the batcave bathrooms. She was internally weighing her bat nosiness sense against her worry about pushing Danny for answers too soon.
âAm I good to meet him, Mamabird?â
Cass blinked back to awareness. âMama bat,â she corrected. âYes.â She cracked her lower back. Mm. Too much standing after patrol. She needed to move a little. âBreakfast. Baby wakes up soon.â
Barbara snorted. âI'll go to bed after,â she said wryly, because they had been flying and solving into the morning light. Riddler was out on the streets. âDid someone check with Alfred about adding me to the breakfast table?â
She didn't know. Cass hummed and flipped over to walk on her hands up the stairs. It sent a pleasant ache through her upper back. Stabilizing her core and legs was just the right amount of casual challenge to make her body feel better.
âChrist,â Barbara said quietly, and huffed out a laugh. The elevator dinged. âI'll see you upstairs.â
Barbara Batgirl beat Cass to the top. Cass huffed in displeasure at the loss and flipped back to her feet. She ducked into the first bathroom they passed to wash her hands.
Alfie was in the kitchen in his morning waistcoat and a thin, comfortable button up shirt. Casual day!
âGood morning, Miss Cassandra,â he said. The kitchen smelled like yeasty bread. Cass sneezed happily and peered around to see meats, cheeses, and fruits.
âMorning!â She chirped. âBarbara wants to stay for breakfast,â Cass said. Barbara wheeled in a moment later, sheepish.
âGood morning, Alfred,â she said. âIf it's not too much trouble-â
âIt's no trouble at all,â he reassured. âMiss Cassandra, would you add an extra place setting?â
Cass hopped to it, mimicking the placement Alfred had made. It was a nearly full table today. Timbird, Batdad, Dickbird, Cass, Danny baby, Damibat. And now Barbara bat.
She heard a jaw-cracking yawn before Danny swung open the door. âGood morning,â Danny baby yawned through his hand. His eyes were bleary. She watches with amusement as he shuffled in, face down. âHave a good ni-â
He stopped. Eyes on Barbara bat.
New adult, he was scared?
No. Cass rapidly calculated and shifted his shifting body language into emotions. Surprise, joy, love-love-lo-wrong! Not love! Sad. Wistful.
âThis is my baby,â Cass said, pretending she didn't notice the reaction. âDanny. This is Barbara.â
Barbara must have noticed Danny's reaction to her. She didn't move closer, lifting a friendly hand from across the countertop.
Danny looked haunted. Danny looked small. âIt's nice to meet you, Barbara,â he said. Weak smile.
She had to talk to him, Cass realized. She had to talk with him today. No more delaying. After breakfast, she would talk.
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" GIVE ME THE SWEETEST GOODBYE THAT I EVER DID RECEIVE " â peter parker.
MINORS DNI 18+ áśť đ đ° .á NOTES: takes place during the events of the marvel's spider-man 2 game. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | morning sex mention | mild exhibitionism | sex against a window.
"You forgot your lunch again." are words PETER PARKER has heard too many times. He spins in place, disengaging from his work to face you, his girlfriend, who so graciously conquered his paper bagged lunch and retrieved it for him like his knight-in-shining-armor.
"Knew I was forgetting something." he murmurs, receiving the sack from you and stealing a greeting kiss from your lips in the same motion.
"Yeah, you left in kind of a hurry this morning." you reply with an impish grin tugging at your lips, leaning your palms at the edge of his desk. You meet his eyes over your shoulder, noting his knowing smile.
He approaches you from behind, lowering his voice to speak in your ear. "Well, that's because someone wouldn't let me." The lunch crinkles as he sets it down, and he hesitates to return to his work when you're here clearly vying for some attention, bringing up this morning of all things...
"Oh, right, because it was all me." you retort sarcastically, breaking exchange of a look to spy on his monitor. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but the stuff Pete does has you at a loss. It's gibberish written across his screen that he no doubt understands and could teach a class on. The thought of his competency drifts your mind elsewhere to the more alluring traits he took on before he left for work. How curious his hands were traversing your body after waking up next to you, kneading your bare form under covers, tucking himself behind you with his morning wood until that confidence bought him some sleepy sex. You heat up, and bite your lip at the memory.
You snap out of your trance, and make more conversation before you excuse yourself so he can get back to work. "Where is everybody?" you ask, voicing your observation. Since you got in, you haven't seen anybody.
Peter pours some coffee into a paper cup, fixing it up how you like it. Steam rises past the rim as he stirs it, and he draws his hand up to suck some sweetness off of his index finger. Your chest jumps, the residual recollection of what it's like to be filled stings your insides. Shifting your weight from leg to leg gives you the subtlest of frictions, and you try to conceal your growing interest by averting your eyes. He brings you the warm cup, handing it to you gently as he looks out through the glass of his office to the lobby. "Harry gave them the rest of the day off. It was in preparation for some repairsâ" He glances at you during his explanation, and when you flash a questioning expression, he clarifies. "âer, for the particle accelerator. Apparently, there was some mistake with scheduling so Harry's out trying to get it sorted. I figured I should at least get something done while I'm here waiting it out."
You enter in a well-timed joke. "You should do me." Peter eyes you thoughtfully.
It was not a joke, and it was excellently timed.
"Did you know I've always wanted to fuck in yourâmmâoffice?" you ask, panting while he yanks you back on his dick. Pressed up against the window that overlooks the lobby, your breath fogs it up. Your hands brace flat against it, its temperature cooling your heated skin, indenting your perked nips.
Peter's chuckle through his nose sounds behind you, and it widens your intoxicated grin. "S'not just mine, baby. What's he gonna say when he sees your tit-prints all over the glass?" Some of the stuff Peter says really gets you, his words shooting straight through you as his dirty talk often does. You moan in response, sucking a breath through your teeth right after, biting your lip hard as he plows your pussy. His steady hands on your hips make sure you can't recoil too much and run away too far, he keeps you right where he wants you so easy.
"We could've kept more clothes on, Pete." you gasp, your tone reminiscent of admonishment even though you loved how he flicked your shirt up to squeeze your tits between the window and your body. Knowing him, he'd been waiting to do that since you walked in.
"Now where's the fun in that?"
"You sound like you wanna get caught."
"You think I haven't thought about showing you off?"
#tw exhibitionism#ch: peter#indy: drabbles#peter parker drabble#peter parker smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman smut#spider-man smut#spider man smut#reader insert
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hey girlll, iâm like literally ovulating right now đ could you write about sneaking up on ellie and pulling her away for a quickie?? (to feast on her pussy)
THANK YOUUU XXXX
I Treat You Well-ish
!: havenât written anything in a bit with classes and clubs but i needed to complete ur requests, hope this is somewhat digestible im sorryyy- ?: Oral, and brief alluding of Ellie being seen as just a fwb..
-
âMm, and here I thought you couldnât stand me..â She murmurs tiredly, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she tilts her head down, an olive-toned hand woven into your tresses from where you kneel before her, a throbbing ache pooling inbetween your legs as you continue fumbling with her drawstringââNever meant it like that.â You retort under your breath once she finally gives you a hand, strumming 2 slender fingers inbetween the tight loop to undo the difficult knot easily. Me next!
âIâm pretty sure âI hate Ellie!â can only be interpreted one way, but iâll let it slide per usual.â She sighs once the damp-warmth of your drooling tongue meets first contact with her cotton boxers.
Eager, werenât you?
âEasyâŚâ Ellieâs breath seemingly hitches, dark bags under her eyes as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of her confines rather impatiently, âSorry, I havenât done this since our last time so iâm a bit rusty.â You reply softly. Ellie hates how your words can be interpreted as exclusivityâ who exactly was she to think so, or get happy at that?
âIâm gonna finish early if you say that shit.â She groans, turning her face away as it reddens slightly. So much for getting homework done tonight..
What even was this anymore? It seemed oddly distorted from the idea you once brought to her when your good-for-nothing partner had dropped you out of the blue, Ellie still remembering how out of it you were during that entire time-period.
âLook, we both hate eachother but how about trying it out? Itâll relax us both, no?â
Wrong! Ellie hasnât had one calm night since you started making appearances in her fucking dreams, which has now become a nightly occurrence for her. Even the strongest of melatonin couldnât ward your evil off
You were a walking contradiction in her eyes, acting like you wouldnt touch her with a 10inch pole, yet sending back-to-back messages detailing in the most gruesome way the stuff youâd let her do to you if she just pulled up to your dorms right now. Which, letâs not get shit twisted, she has a few times here and there
A true slut you were, but she wasnât too far behind either
âYou only ever call me when you need me anyways.â Duh. She finally yawns, leaning down to thumb your lips apart as she initiates a deep kiss, that is, before shoving you inbetween her own legs, locking you in with her knees as she mindlessly reaches for your cellular device
Itâs seem like sheâs sighing for the upteenth time in a row, lomg-sought bliss displayed on her face while you award her with kisses all around her pussy, an exceptionally long one on her hidden-away clitoris, awarding it a few laps as you smile
Speaking of which, You really werenât lying when you said you needed it, Ellie scrolling to find your only recent contacts making up to be yourbparents and close friends she somewhat knew of, however, her face immediately drops when she stumbles upon an unsaved number, scoffing when she sees the strings of clearly unreciprocated paragraphs sent on the persons end, your responses not even being more than 3 words eachâ She wants to laugh, but she really canât. Sheâd been in that losers shoes before, not like you see her any different with or without the sex, or so she thinks
A stifiled moan escapes her once you begin pinching at her inner-thighs, your own expression shifting into clear annoyance when you realize Ellieâs attention isnât all on you currently. âW-what? Am I not doing this right or something?â Before you know it, sheâs accidently clicking the random contact, throwing it onto the bed while she practically steers your head in accommodation to the tempo she wants, the tension she has on your hair bringing slight tears to pool at your pretty waterlineâ didnât you want her attention?
Each time your mouth slams onto her gushing pussy, it gives you the lightest wafting of her scent, though youâre way too pussydrunk to really identify itâ she reminds you of laundry detergent in the best way however, like the cliche advertisements youâd see about smelling like a fresh load of laundry. You donât even notice the periodic moments Ellie has to physically move your head herself because of how dazed you are..on her damn smell..
Clearly unbeknownst to either of you, the recipient on the other end of the phone is listening in on your businesses
âOUCH!â You yell out abruptly, clicking back into realityâ Ellie had managed to sneakily reach a hand down to pinch your puffy breasts through your thinly-veiled tanktop, causing you to briefly come up for some needed air and a scolding, âYouâre being mean! Touch them nicer, âarright? Theyâre sensitive.â
She chuckles at your reasoning, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before immediately furrowing her eyebrows together close-knitly, an all too familar elasticity beginning to snap in her lower stomach, âS-shit, baby, iâm about toâ i-in a bit, you still hungry?â She teases, overstimulation washing over when you immediately return to work in an even desperate manner to get her off, âAlmost!â You slur, burying your face deeper into her center, almost feels like the air in your lungs was being sucked out
Wouldnât be the worst way to go out..
âWell, i-im gonna need your highness to hurry it up..â Ellie faux-mocks, toes curling when you unexpectedly ram your fingers into a certain spongy spot rather harshly, âS-shiiitâŚ
âCum for me? Pretty please?â You attempt to match her whines, leaning up to bury your wet face against the burrow of her neck, all while your digits make play inside of her, âI wanna make Ellie happy.â You pathetically admit, raising your head from her nape to, instead, lick the outer shell of her ear
Ellieâs body immediately shudders at the combination of words and actions, slightly convulsing as splashes of electrifying arousal pulsate across both of your own body; her grip on you doesnât ease up either, with blunt nails digging into your plush sides, threatening to draw blood if they hadnât already,
âDid..you?..â Ellie rasps, not being fully able to complete her sentence, sweat pooling in crystal beads at the meeting point of her hairline when she catches her breath and something sheâd noticed
âDid you just orgasm untouched?â
âD-donât push your luck!â You hiccup embarrassingly, grabbing your phone where it lays besides you on her comforter to check how lomg you two had been at it, surely your roommate had to have texted you about your late-night whereabouts, though the nearly 1 hour call in-session feels like an ice-cold bucket thrown at you instead
âOh myââ Immediately ending it, you embarrassingly shove your face into a pillow to scream. Ellie looks at you bizarrely, leaning over to meet your face more directly, âSex so bad youâre trying to..suffocate yourself?â She has the audacity to joke,
âYou called my building RA!â
She pauses, crossing her legs as she scratches the back of her neck, âWaitâ soâ ..no, that makes senseâ ah, forget it! I, uh, thought it was some dude you were messing with or something.â Ellie sheepishly admits, âGiven the stuff you say, I just thought you had other people or âsomethin.â
âWait, what do I say?â
âyou know, like the whole thing about me not being your type ân all.â
You hate how a small frown shows on your face. Despite how you act, you couldnât help feeling like a coward for how you tried evading your feelings for Ellie by just ghosting her all those weeks after youâd been the one to even start this.
Instead, you lay back down where you both were sprawled and cup her cheek, âI donât think anyone buys what I say anyway, even you.â You murmur, kissing her cheek gently
#the last of us#wlw#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x f!reader#tlou2#tlou#san8ny
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LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO. ( HOTD x READER ) [ Pt. 2 ]
AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Niece! Targ! ( Strong ) Reader suggest song to listen to whilst reading: Like Real People Do by Hozier or Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives prompt : would you make a part 2 for "like real people do" where after the fight reader gets really depressed and gives up trying to talk to him so he finally realizes his mistakes and tries to be a better person for her. she's still weary of him so doesn't really speak to him outside of formalities which frustrates him. but during that period aemond tries to make a move on her but he's a really good friend and makes her feel wanted and loved so when aegon watches them dance during a feast he kinda snaps and they finally argue talk their feelings out with them making up by the end and maybe if smut if you want to write it??? thank you! word count: 1, 000+ words
You listened to him a little too well, like a loyal pup listening to its Master. You avoided him like he was the Stranger himself. Your once soft glances. The subtle smiles whenever you looked at him. The way your fingers would brush against his. The way you would tend to him. The way you would set out his clothes after a night out in Flea Bottom.Â
Everything that you had done for him. It was all over and done. He had ruined it all with his pathetic temper tantrum. He regretted it. He fucking regretted it all as days turned into a fortnight. A fortnight was dragging into a full moon. And he was starting to crave having you around once again. He craved you more than he craved wine. You were now a ghost in his life. Passing by, unseen and unheard.Â
He was sure that soon enough you would come back to him. You'd snap out of this little daze. You'd come back to him. You'd coddle him, just like you used to. Everything, everything, everything would be alright. You'd be back and this would be nothing more than a small fight in the past.
Watching you and Aemond dance together, Aemond was so gentle with you, his hands and gaze never strayed into another inappropriate. Aemond was a true gentleman, he would never dare to dishonor you. He always treated you with such respect and kindness. Brushing it off as nothing more than a cordial dance between a brother and sister-in-law, Aegon takes a sip of his wine, turning his back to the two of you.Â
Hearing soft laughter come from behind him, he snaps his head back towards you too in an instant, eyes sharp. He did not care. In the weeks of your avoidance, he was fine! He was fucking fine! But, why the fuck did you look so happy with him? You looked happy with Aemond, of all people. You looked really happy with Aemond. Happier than he had ever made you in the years of your marriage together.Â
âThey look happy together.â Helaena smiles, âDo they not, Aegon?â
âThey do.â He grumbles, scowling deeply.Â
âI am happy to see her so happy once again.â Helaena nods mindlessly, âShe was so upset before.â
âShe was?â He raises a brow.Â
âYes, she was. Aemond though, he was very kind to her. They spoke a lot. She has been smiling since she had spoken to him. Tisâ good.â Helaena smiles, unaware of her words.
Narrowing his eyes at the sight of you and Aemond dancing, he shifts in his seat, tightening his grip on his chalice. He wasnât upset. He wasnât fuckign upset in the slightest. Why the fuck would anyone get upset at such news like this? He wasnât. He wasnât.Â
âWhat of?â He asks, masking his displeasure.Â
âDragonâs.â Helaena smiles, âOther things. But, most of dragonâs.â
âDragonâs?âÂ
âMm-hmm, she has always had an interest in dragonâs. Specifically Vhagar.â Helaena shakes her head, âShe thinks that Dragons and their riders can share memories of Old should their bond be so tightly intertwined.âÂ
âWell thatâs stupid.â
âI do not think so. If dragon dreams are true, tisâ no surprise if such a thought could be true.â Helaena argues, âIf you spoke to her, you would know of this.â
Clenching his jaw tightly at Helaenaâs subtle jab, he trails his eyes back onto you, seeing just how happy you looked with Aemond. His heart clenched tightly. It should be him in Aemondâs place. He should be the one getting you so happy and comfortable. He should be the one listening to the stupid thoughts. Not Aemond. Chugging all of the wine in his chalice, he slams the chalice down hard on the table, standing up from his seat.Â
No. Nope. Not a chance. Not a fucking chance. Aemond would not take his place. He could not, no he would not be replaced by his younger brother. You were his wife. You were supposed to be his little pest. You were supposed to be his. Running a hand through his hair, he stalks towards the two of you, keeping a calm facade for your sake. He would win you back. If he could seduce whores in Flea Bottom, he could seduce you back.Â
âIf you do not mind, I would like to have my wife back, dear brother.â He cuts in, his voice smooth with a hint of iciness.
âOh..â You murmur, the smile on your face dying in an instant.Â
âIf the Lady wishes, then I shall end our dance.â Aemond glares at him, âAfter all, she may be tired of dancing.â
âShe is my wife.â
âYes, she is. But, weâve been dancing for so long.â Aemond argues, âMayhaps, you should ask her if she wishes to keep dancing or if she would like some wine.â
Seeing the subtle glare his brother gave him, he puffs his chest up in defense, attempting to intimidate him. He was the King and your husband. He had every right to be around you and ask you for a dance. Narrowing his eyes hard at him, Aemond motions to you with his eye, trying to make him understand. What the fuck was he trying to say? Clenching his jaw in confusion, it suddenly clicks in his head what Aemond was suggesting. A way for him to speak to you. Aemond was not attempting to steal you
âUm, Y/n, would you like to dance with me?âÂ
âOh, um, no thank you.â You softly shake your head, âI have had my fill of dancing.â
âThen, may I suggest you join me at our table for some wine and fresh air?â He offers again, attempting to find some middle ground with you.Â
As tempted as he was to sling you over his shoulder, he knew that it would only worsen the distance between the two of you, and maybe earn him a hard punch to the nose from Aemond. He had to be smart. He had to be the complete and utter opposite of himself. Looking at you a little hopeful, he holds his hand out for you to take, praying that you would at least grant him that.Â
âI thought you wished for me to leave you be?â You murmur, âTwasâ hard to not understand that when you were shouting at me.â
âMayhaps, I was wrong.â He gulps, suddenly feeling nervous.Â
âBut, you said to meâŻâÂ
âI want to be alone, but alone with you.â He stutters, âUm, that is if you will allow it to me.â
Cowering slightly as you stare him down, he retracts his hand, now aware of Aemondâs lack of presence. It was just you and him. Though, it was not a comforting thought. Clasping his hands behind his back, he slowly looks you over, eyes trailing down your gown.
It was purple with pearls sewing into the skirt. You always wore green to match with him. His gut churns painful, now aware of just how much distance had brewed in the weeks apart. You used to be so intertwined with him.Â
âI do not wish to be around you any longer. Tisâ clear my presence is a bother.â You argue, staring him down like he was your prey.Â
âNo, I do not wish for that any longer.â He mumbles, like a petulant child.
âYou do not?âÂ
âI do not. I wish for us to act like real people do. To not be like how we once were.â He explains, âI wish to change. For there to be no distance.â
âBold words do not move me, Aegon. Tisâ actions that do.â
Nodding his head in agreement at your words, he knew that he had royal fucked up. Hell, even his own dragon refused to look at him for what he had done, siding with your dragon. He had to earn your respect. But, he was willing to do it. Swallowing his pride, he looks at you shamefully, seeing the hate within your eyes.
You now looked at him with the same hate that everyone else in the Realm did. It was not as pleasing or comforting as he had wanted or though it would be. It felt shameful. It felt heartbreaking. You were supposed to look at him with love, not hatred.
âI..â
âYou what, Aegon?â You snap back, annoyed.
âIâŚTell me what you wish for me to say and do. Tell me what man you wish for me to be, and I shall be him for you.â He pleads, using the same words you had said to him weeks ago.
----
#house of the dragon#house of dragons#house of dragons x reader#house of the dragon x reader#aegon ii targaryen#hotd imagine#hotd imagines#hotd x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii#aegon x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon the elder#aegon the second#king aegon#hotd fic#hotd#hotd season 2#hotd s2
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𩸠Scarlet...Milk? đĽ(pt.2)
[This was heavily requested đ but i love y'all and have this â¤]
(Words: 1.3k)
"I'm watching you....."
Was written in the note, you stumbled back as you look ahead of the building that leads to the metal doors. The bloody doppelganger staring at you before disappearing in the blink of an eye.
You're being stalked...
Out of fear you rushed to your apartment after closing the main gates of the building.
'would that mean that doppelganger will be aggressive?..'
You think as you paced around in front of your apartment, it was the second floor apartment near Nacha's room. You sat down on your doorstep frustrated and nervous, if you messed up he will kill Francis...not only Francis, mostly anyone in the building-
"Y/n?" A soft and gentle tone asked as you turn your head to see Nacha's peeking out of her apartment room. "Miss Nacha- did i disturb you?"
"No, not at all..i just heard you groaning and pacing around, you seem down in the slumps"
"Ah..well, is it okay?-"
"I dont mind, come in we can talk about it"
ęˇď¸śęˇęĽęˇâ§âËęˇď¸śęˇęĽęˇâ§âË
"Thats why...." You said softly explaining the whole incident that had happened as you averted your eyes to someplace , while Nacha takes in all the information. "I don't really get this doppelganger thing, but you seem like a lovely and kind person Y/n.."
"We appreciate you and your doorman duties, remember to take care of yourself whenever" Nacha said as she smiled at You, your venting didn't include your growing admiration for the milkman because well...
From what you know Nacha is Francis ex-wife and its hella awkward to tell her you had a crush on her ex-husband.
"Your muffins are good-" You said breaking away from the topic as you took a bite from the blueberry muffin she offered earlier when you entered her house.
"Why thank you, i baked them with Anastacha" Nacha said happily as she went to the fridge. "would you like some milk? I bought this, funny looking thing-" Nacha said as she pulled out a red bottle of...'Scarlet milk'
You choked on your muffin and soon recovered, you immediately rushed to Nacha and grabbed the bottle.
"Dont"
"D-dont?" Nacha asked confused as you took the bottle and examine it. "its a bottle of blood, where do you get this-"
"It was left by the main gates-"
"Nacha...I'm not crazy, do not..receive the scarlet milk next time" Nacha eyes were wide as she nodded to your statement. "Y/n perhaps you should get an eye shut for tonight? Y-you seem shaken-"
"I'm..." You inhaled as you let go of her shoulders. "Maybe i should" you said sorry as you made your way out of Nacha's apartment room.
"Sweet dreams, Y/n" Nacha said as you closed the door gently.
You stared at the bottle of blood on your hands as your eyebrows furrowed at it. "I'm not delusional..." you said to yourself as you threw away the Scarlet milk into the trash bin.
You went into your apartment for some sleep.
ęˇď¸śęˇęĽęˇâ§âËęˇď¸śęˇęĽęˇâ§âË
You didn't manage to sleep at all, you keep hearing voices at night telling you to let them in.
'Y/n..'
Go away..
'Y/n!'
"GO AWAY!" you screamed as you stood up from your bed, it was 5:30 am in the morning.
"Y/n?" A familiar voice asked outside of your apartment door. "Francis?" You asked softly as you stood up from your bed.
You opened your door to see the Milkman all in his glory and uniform. "You alright? You screamed and i heard it from outside" he said as he stared at you with his tired eyes.
"Y-yeah..yeah I'm alright"
"You look..frightened" He stated as he noticed it from your appearance. "I'm fine Francis"
"Just a nightmare.."
"You hear them too?" Your eyes went wide as you stared at him. "What?"
"...mm..nevermind, maybe you should get ready..Ill head to work now, the milk dont deliver themselves" he muttered as he went ahead to the elevator.
"S-see you..." You were filled with mixed emotions, what does he mean 'you hear them too?' .
Is that why he's sleep deprived? At least you're not alone...
ęˇď¸śęˇęĽęˇâ§âËęˇď¸śęˇęĽęˇâ§âË
You started another day of your shift as you opened the metal covers. "Dont let this be weirder than usual" you muttered to yourself as you turn to the gates to see the yellowish eyes.
You dropped your keys and rubbed your eyes , wondering if you're seeing it right.
The eyes were gone...
"There's nothing..nothing at all-" you said to yourself to reassure, and went to your office.
...
The day went weirder, doppelgangers are trying to get in more frequently than usual. It was stressing, doppelgangers get angrier each time they're caught and you feared for your life and the apartments residents life.
"I'm okay.."
'I'm okay' you said to yourself as you keep going, you feel like breaking down. One wrong decision all blame will be pointed at you, and you alone..
"Mmm...Hello" Francis said tired as usual entering the hall in front of your office.
"Francis-" you said as he showed you his papers. "You alright Y/n?"
"J-just...overwhelmed" you answered as you checked his information.
"Mm...take a rest after this"
"I-i should..." You said softly as you opened the metal door for him to get in.
"Mm...Hello"
What...
Your eyes went wide as you stared at the second Francis. "You're a doppelganger-"
"What...?"
"Stop playing with me!" You said frustrated and angry. "Y/n you need to calm down...i just got off from my delivery shift"
Oh no..
Oh noo..
"Francis?!" You cursed under your breath and let him in your office. "Whats happening-" the milkman asked confused and exhausted from work.
"Stay in here- dont leave" you said as you grab your walkie talkie. "Press the emergency button and call D.D.D. when i page you through this" you explained as you hand him the spare device.
"Okay.."
"Please...be safe" you said as you closed the metal covers and door on your way out of the office, you went in the apartments and hit the emergency button to immediately alert the residents to close their rooms.
"You're no fun at all..." Said the doppelganger by the end of the hallway holding the tray of Scarlet milk.
"And you're a threat" you said as you pulled out your gun that was given to you by the D.D.D. services. He rushed to you as he tackled you down on the ground, bottles of Scarlet milk shattered on the way he dropped it near you staining both of your uniform and his.
"I told you ill get back at you" he said hungrily as his tongue licked your face. You kicked his stomach and crawled to the direction where you dropped it, but he stepped on your hand and laughed at you.
"No one would remember you" he started as he presses his foot on your hand making you scream in pain. "They'll see you as a crazy security that let in a threat"
"Oh yeah?" You managed to blurt out. "That doesn't matter, i bite" you said as you bit into his ankle Making him step back and let out a frustrated groan.
"FRANCIS-" you page into your walkie talkie. "CALL D.D.D. NOW--"
You grabbed the gun but the doppelganger kicked you to the nearest wall. "You protect their lives but who will protect you?"
He walked to you with one of the Scarlet milk. "No one.." He grabbed your face as he smiled, his eyes were empty as he forced the bloody bottle into your mouth.
You pulled the trigger of your gun thats pointed on his shoulder and shot him.
He screeched in pain as his face start to distort into a monster form of creature that you fear to see. His form rapidly changing as he charged back at you only for you to shoot him twice on his head.
He fall down on the floor, his blood and yours everywhere on the hallway of the 1st floor.
Your eyes were heavy and your head hurts, soon enough you passed out...
#francis mosses#thats not my neighbor#that's not my neighbor#the milkman#tnmn#themilkman#milkman#doppelganger#x reader
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hi! just watched someone like you last night & i saw your requests were open for eddie đŤ
either:
1. "did you just wash these sheets?" "i did." "they smell nice. and they're still warm."
or
2. "we should really get up." "we should....but we won't."
whichever you like better!! they both screammm eddie to me
love is here to stay
a/n: what i wouldn't give to cuddle with this man in the mornings. possibly making him late for work as other things ensue. and i've always tied jazz songs to movies from the early 2000s and 90s. so this is based off the ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong song. i fear i'm down bad for this man and would love to have him be my boyfriend.
summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be founr, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.
word count: 1k
pairing: eddie alden x reader
warnings: semi-explicit so 18+ ONLY!!, summer heat eviserating anything fun, banter, eddie being a fucking tease, sweat, he calls the pussy her, comfy loving scenario.
New York City roared to life on the other side of your apartment wall. Chatter of people shouting, horns of taxis already stuck in morning traffic. Not even your shut and locked window could block each noise that came through. It was a place that demanded to be heard the second the sun rose up in the dark blue sky.
You mumbled something unintelligible, hand reaching for the covers that were no doubt kicked to the bottom of the bed. Halfway through the night the air shut offâeffectively making your place a hellscape with no chance of avoidance.
What began as a night filled with naked skin and fast bitten thrusts, turned to the both of you sleeping as far away as humanly possible. You were almost certain if you opened your eyes you'd find Eddie at the edge of the mattressâhis body covered in a sheen of sweat. Matching you completely.
"Mm," he groaned into his pillow, flipping over to his side, an arm flinging around your bare waist. "You move too much."
"Shut up," you muttered.
You could feel the tendrils of a somewhat breeze filter in through the living room where you'd left the fire escape window open. Neither of you bothered to shut it after the glass of wine and shared cigarette turned to stripping him of his shirt and you of your pants. It felt like a miracle you made it to the bedroom at allâhis body collapsing atop yours with a pained groan; hands grasping for any piece of plushness he could find.
"Make me." Even in sleep he managed to grin like a tease. His eyes shut and hand shifting to cup your bare ass. "Feels like you want to," he sighed around a half yawn.
You shuffled closer, cheek pressed to his chest. "Feels like the fuckin' world is on fire."
He tapped your ass. "That it is baby."
What little energy you could gather was bled from your body the longer you lay there. Summer eviscerated any means of joy in your life. What could you do? Hiding inside was all you had left in order to escape the heat. Now even that left you withering against his torsoâbody slick with sweat that would only return moments after you washed it off.
"Eddie," you yawned, throwing your arm over his stomach. He offered a grunt; the heat now muddling his brain and cutting off his ability to form words. "You work today?"
His arm raised above his head, onto the pillows beneath him. (Pillows he stole in the middle of the night.)
"I could," he sighed. "Got lots to do at work."
"Ah. I forgot. Big time hot shot."
The audible smack of his hand landing harder on your ass made you laugh; your leg kicking out to deter his attacks. He couldn't help it. Toying with your flesh was the highlight of his mornings. His eyes creeped open, lips tugging into a lazy grin that screamed drowsiness. Only to watch as he jiggled your fleshâfingers kneading at you like a fucking cat who just found the softest pillow in the world.
"Unless you intend to fuck me stupid Alden. I'd stop that."
His head fell back with a raspy groan. "Got no energy to fuck you stupid baby." You glanced at him, chin resting on his chest. "How about I just fuck ya? Huh?"
"Stupid or no deal," you mumbled.
"My cock is gonna be begging for you all day."
"Too bad." You smiled, pressing a kiss to the hair that nestled in between his pecs. "Shoulda thought of that before you didn't call the super to fix the fuckin' air."
His sigh was wistfulâ-relenting. "Yeah I know. I'll call 'em today."
The city took over your conversation when silence began to filter in between the cracks of your haven. In this small bedroom, you were safe. Content even as the warmth of your lover began to stick to your skin and cause discomfort. Moving wasn't an option. Nor was taking a cold shower.
So you remained there, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath.
"We should really get up," he muttered, head turning to face the window.
The sun came through your sheer curtains, casting a shadow along the hardwood floor. You marveled at how picturesque it wasâhow heavenly.
"We should..." You placed another kiss against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat along your tongue. He groaned, his eyes meeting yours. "But we won't."
"Baby," he breathed.
Your eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about it Eddie."
"C'mon!" he laughed. "Lemme eat your pussy. I'll be really nice to her."
"Fuck off. 'S too hot." You buried your face into his skin, biting back the peal of laughter he could tell lay on the tip of your tongue.
"All I'm saying is she's never not liked my tongue down there."
The loud smack you land to his stomach causes a howl of laughter to erupt from his chest. His body rolling over to trap you beneath himâpressing you down into the mattress as he bit at your neck. Another echo of the city poured in through the open door, cracking through the bubble you both resided in. But the feel of Eddie trailing kisses down your stomach killed every sound that didn't belong to him.
"Too hot my ass," he mumbled along your hip bone, teeth scraping the skin hard enough to draw a moan from your lips. "It's never too hot to have something sweet, baby."
You smiled, curling your fingers into his hair. "I hate you."
"You love me," he retorted, drawing your thighs up and over his shoulders. "Admit it."
When he looked at you like this: eyes bright enough to put even the sun to shame. How could you say anything but yes?
#what i wouldn't give to live in this scenario with him#the unbearable weather totally didn't inspire this#eddie alden x reader#eddie alden x you#eddie alden x y/n#eddie alden#my writing#hugh jackman
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sister to sister
cw nsfw under cut, stepcest, g!p!stepsis!wonyoung, female reader, wonyâs manipulative, pt. 2 to this but can be read as a standalone, reader is smaller than wonyoung (mentioned like once), oral (wony receiving), wonyoungâs a head pusher, corruption kink, slightly inexperienced!reader??, spitting, slight praise, degrading, use of degrading names (disgusting cockslut), dacryphilia, you swallow đ
âwhat about this dress?â you turn around, displaying the lilac dress on your figure. wonyoungâs eyes rack up your body, face staying neutral before it brightens into a smile.
âyou look hot,â wonyoungâs eyes are purely on your tits, âyour boobs look good.â
you blush, giggling and turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror, âthanks. okay, i have more, umâŚâ you grab a dress from a hanger and take off your current dress, not minding having to change in front of wonyoung.
wonyoung, on the other hand, inhales sharply as you pull off your dress, leaving you in only panties as you werenât too keen on wearing bras around the house. your panties were plain black cotton, but she could still see the roundness of your ass. especially when you bent over slightly to get the new dress.
she shifts slightly, trying to focus on something else so you could at least show her the rest of your dresses (otherwise youâd whine about it later). âso, why are you giving me a fashion show right now?â
you smile, turning to face her as youâre still pulling the dress on. her eyes immediately drop down to your chest, but you either ignore it or donât notice. âi have a date! with that one guy, you know?â
wonyoungâs eye twitches, âwhat guy?â how was she supposed to know when there were so many fucking guys?
âmm, the one with the funny lookinâ dog,â you say, smoothing down the dress and turning to look at yourself in the mirror. âoh, well.. this one is more tighter than i thought,â you say, turning to look at yourself from the side.
wonyoung doesnât respond, fist curling into your white bedsheets. she doesnât understand why you waste your time with ugly ass men when you could have her. sure, there were some obstacles in the way but she was positive she could get rid of said obstacles.
âis this too slutty for a first date?â you ask, turning to look at her.
âi donât know, are you going to fuck him?â her head tilts, a glare on her face as she stares at you.
âwhat? nâno!â you deny, but your blush has her thinking otherwise. her tongue clicks. you swallow, suddenly feeling very small as she stands up. âwhat are you doing?â you ask cautiously, backing up against the mirror as she corners you.
âiâm just asking,â she shrugs, staring down at you. âbecause⌠iâm going to be honest, here, okay? sister to sister,â her lips curve into a smirk as that sentence has you nodding. âyou havenât had.. very much experience. what if he thinks youâre bad?â
you blink, feeling your heart clench in your chest, âbad? atâ at what?â
âoh, you know,â her eyes tear away from yours, acting as if sheâs a bit nervous to tell you this. âlike⌠blowjobs.â
âoh,â you donât say anything else, staring down at the floor. âi.. what do i do then?â you look back up at her, eyes shiny. youâre looking up to her for help.
wonyoung canât help but grin, âdonât worry, your big sister knows exactly how to help you.â
your face blanches when she tells you she can help by teaching, âbut.. butââ
âbut, but?â she mocks, head tilting. âdo you wanna be bad at it and humiliate yourself? iâm sure heâll go and tell all his friends about how bad your head is. and you know how fast rumors spread around hereâŚâ she tsks.
dread fills your body, and it easily has you convinced for wonyoung to have you down on your knees in between her legs. she pushes your hair out of your face, spitting down on her cock to lubricate it a bit. start with using your hand, like this.â with her hand over yours, she guides it to wrap around her exposed cock and slowly begins to pump your hand up and down her shaft.
a satisfied hum leaves her mouth, taking her hand off yours after a few pumps, âyou can use your mouth now.â
you give a curious peck to the head, watching it twitch. knowing a few things from twitter, you lean forward and kitten lick her tip that was leaking pre-cum. it wasnât bad, maybe a little salty but not gag worthy.
wonyoung inhales sharply, âokay.. now, you can start to put it in your mouth... make sure to take a breath and then breathe through your nose so itâs easier.â her hand rests on the top of your head, slowly guiding you down despite the urge to make you take it all at once. taking a deep breath, you take her in your mouth just a little and curiously look up at her for what to do next. âgood, goodâ fuck, just, uh,â she can hardly think with your warm mouth around her, blinking rapidly. fuck, your mouth is barely wrapped around her cock, and sheâs still like this. âtake it as deep as you can get,â she pushes your head further down, waiting for your reaction to test your gag reflexâ and when you gag, starting to cough, she brings you up.
âyouâre fine,â she huffs, resisting the urge to buck her hips up. she couldnât believe she found you gagging on her cock hot. âget back there,â she lowers your head back down, groaning at the sight of your eyes peering up at her, âhollow your cheeks and start toâ to bob your head. whatâwhatever you canât fit, use your hand.â
doing as she says, a shaky moan leaves her lips, âcontinue doing that, and you can come up for air when you need it.â you continue to bob your head up and down, remembering how she liked it when you licked her head. you watch as she moans when you swirl your tongue around the head, coming up for a breath and pressing a kiss to it and pumping her in your hand in the meantime. you duck your head, taking her in your mouth again.
âfuck, iâi canâtââ she moans, grip on your head tightening and she pushes down hard. you choke when she slams into the back of your throat harshly. tears are immediately springing to your eyes and falling down your cheeks, wet eyelashes fluttering to clear your vision. she doesnât let up, moaning as your hand covers what your mouth doesnât when you come up.
âdoing such a good job, sissy.â your hole clenches at the familiar nickname, and she glances at you under lidded eyes, âheâheâs gonna end up falling in love with you,â she grunts, âwith a mouth like thatââ she breaks out into a groan when you moan around her cock, hips rutting on her leg.
âgod, youâre so fucking filthy,â wonyoung breathes out, tugging your head back so you can come up for air. âsucking your sisterâs cock just to impress some fuck ass guy that probably canât find the clit,â she chuckles, slapping her cock on your wet lips with her free hand teasingly. your tongue lolls out, looking up at her with wet and desperate eyes. youâre so pretty when you cry, she thinks. she wants to see you cry more. âwhat would he think if he knew you were doing this? seeing you on your knees like this for me? heâd think youâre a disgusting cockslut.â
you whimper, opening your mouth to speak but she doesnât let you, pushing your head back down. youâre messy and frantic, so eager to please your sister.
âyou should be thaâthankful your sister is so thoughtful and caring. iâm letting you sâsuck my cock and learn for another fuckinâ guy,â wonyoung grunts, bucking her hips up to hit the back of your throat and she groans when you pull up, sputtering. âfuck, justâ stop, just take it all, damnit.â she forces your head back down, watching the tears stream down your face. her cock throbs in your hand and mouth, starting to talk again through her pants and moans, âi donât have to be doing this, yâyou know? but i just care too much to let you humiliate yourself.â
wonyoung stares down at you, the sight of you having spit and drool dripping around her cock and down your chin with tears down your cheeks making her continuously twitch in your mouth. her eyes roll to the back of her head, slamming your head down at a quicker pace. you can hardly breathe now, completely forgetting to breathe through your nose like she said to.
without warning, she spills inside your mouth, hot sticky substance filling your mouth. you donât expect it, immediately coughing and sputtering, some of her come leaking down your chin. your eyes are squinting, vision blurry from the amount of tears. you fall back on your knees, panties uncomfortably wet and sticking to your folds. your cheek rests on her knee, eyes closing as you gasp for air.
she quickly grabs your jaw, collecting the cum and pushing it back in your mouth with her thumb, âswallow. heâll really like it when you swallow,â both of you pretend like youâre still going. you obey, opening your mouth to show her. she smirks, before putting her thumb on your bottom lip to keep your mouth open. a glob of spit dribbles from her mouth, landing on your tongue.
without her having to tell you to, you make a show of swallowing that, too. her eyes burn with a familiar fire before she forces herself to calm down, willing her cock to not harden again.
wonyoung exhales, chest heaving up and down as she pulls her pants up, âare you still going on that date?â she glances down at you, where youâre face first in her knee again, probably shamefully trying to hide away from her.
youâre silent for a second before muttering in her knee, voice hearse from her ramming her cock in your throat, âno.â
wonyoung canât help but smirk as you turn around to face her, eyes and lips puffy and red, âgood, âcause⌠sister to sister, i donât think he was right for you, either.â
#cw stepcest#wonyoung.txt#ive.txt#writing.txt#wonyoung smut#ive smut#ive hard thoughts#ive hard hours#kpop gg smut#kpop smut#kpop girl group smut#kpop girl group imagines#kpop gg imagines#jang wonyoung smut#jang wonyoung x reader#ive imagines#ive x reader
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Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee
HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!
[ thereâs a part 2 now :) ] â. *. â gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood
âmy lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,â zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. âit would be a waste of time to check you in.âÂ
you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasnât telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so itâs not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...
and. there was, is, an and. youâre not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like youâre embarrassed to even suggest he might like you. Â
âiâm sorry,â you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that youâd arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. âi didnât mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since youâre here...âÂ
zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling.Â
âno,â he replied. âyou should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.âÂ
you blushed like an idiot. âever?â you mocked.Â
âmm,â he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. âcome with me.âÂ
and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayneâs office. for a few moments, heâs left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory.Â
iâve been personally invited to the office. Â
not like itâs the first time, though. Â
zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too).Â
âlay down,â zayne commands. Â
you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time heâs come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, youâre still sitting up.Â
âyou can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,â he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. âi can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, youâre putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.âÂ
âi havenât even shown you the wound,â you retort, not sure why youâre arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa. Â
âi see your handywork,â zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. heâs clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. âhm.âÂ
you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands. Â
âis this bad?â you ask. âiâm sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.âÂ
zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round. Â
he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad.Â
ânot bad,â he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. âthe paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.âÂ
âand thatâs bad?âÂ
âyouâll be alright,â he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. âyou wonât die, i suppose.âÂ
âwell, iâd hope not. itâs just a cut.âÂ
âand what did you do this time?â zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures. Â
âi had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.âÂ
âyou impaled yourself, then,â he remarks coldly. âand xavier.âÂ
he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it. Â
âxavier, yeah,â you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. âmy partner. iâve mentioned him, i think.âÂ
âyes, you have,â zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. âlift your shirt, please.âÂ
youâre grateful that heâs given you a task and you donât have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose.Â
âouch,â you hiss.Â
you realize youâre probably stressing him out. Â
âitâs not bad,â you add, uncharacteristically hoarse.Â
âitâs not,â zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. âbut it hurts, i'm sure.âÂ
you nod. âsure.âÂ
âsure,â he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if heâs just making sure he heard you right. Â
zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says,Â
âyouâll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?âÂ
your neck is suddenly clammy. âoh. yeah, sure.âÂ
âif you canât fold them down far enough, youâll have to take them off.âÂ
your eyes blow out like glass.Â
zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. âi would get you a cover, of course.âÂ
âoh, how nice of you.âÂ
he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal. Â
he inhales at the sound.Â
the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. theyâre longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. âwould you like to do it yourself?â zayne asks suddenly.Â
his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest.Â
you bristle. âgod, no.âÂ
âthen why are you staring?â Â
youâre hoping he wonât finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say,Â
âokay. good luck. donât mess up, please.âÂ
he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. âi never mess up.â  Â
the words âmessâ and âup,â are foreign on his tongue, like heâd never refer to a mistake so casually, like heâs never made one in his life. he probably hasnât, you think.Â
zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. âiâm going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.âÂ
you nod. âsure.âÂ
he chuckles again. âsure,â he hums, and then, before he presses down, âhere.âÂ
he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat. Â
zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures.Â
âthis will be fast, too,â he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like heâs trying to will the fear out of you. ânot as fast as that, but faster than youâd imagine.âÂ
you nod. âsure.âÂ
âthere it is again,â he smiles. âsure.âÂ
you grin incredulously. âi donât know what else to say. youâre about to stab me.âÂ
his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose.Â
âarenât you glad itâs me, at least, and not some stranger?âÂ
youâre busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. âi am glad itâs you, yes.âÂ
your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adamâs-apple bobbing. Â
âalright,â zayne says, nearly whispering. ânow.âÂ
he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. itâs nearly a whine.Â
âi know,â zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. âiâm sorry.âÂ
âitâs okay.âÂ
you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill.Â
âlook at me,â zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh. Â
you peel one eye open and then the other.Â
âi know it hurts,â he says gently. âbut you canât move. i could seriously hurt you.âÂ
âsorry, sorry,â you nod. âi know.âÂ
the pools of his eyes are clear. heâs resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident.Â
âbreathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i canât work if youâre flinching away.âÂ
âokay.âÂ
his brows lift. âokay?âÂ
again, you nod. âokay. iâm sorry.âÂ
âno apologies,â zayne says.Â
he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly thatâs unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass. Â
you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel. Â
âiâm going to try again,â he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. âbreathe.âÂ
well, i canât now.Â
âgot it,â you grind out.Â
âgood,â zayne hums. âthree, two, one...âÂ
and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth.Â
âdonât,â zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. âbreathe. i can see whether youâre doing it.âÂ
the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh thatâs been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers. Â
his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, youâre stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut. Â
âdo you ever get nervous doing this?â you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isnât wet just watching him do his job. âare you nervous?âÂ
âno.â his reply is instant. âiâve done this hundreds of times.âÂ
youâre stunned. âi would be nervous.âÂ
âyou are nervous,â zayne murmurs. âclose your eyes.âÂ
the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone. Â
âno,â you gasp. too fast.Â
zayneâs fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. âno?âÂ
you shake your head. âi-i donât like not knowing what youâre going to do next.âÂ
oh, sure. Â
heâs stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. âthen iâll tell you what iâm going to do before i do it.âÂ
âthatâs okay,â you exhale. iâm dying.Â
zayneâs eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up. Â
youâre not sure how itâs possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons. Â
he goes back to work without another word. youâre so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until heâs done.Â
âalright,â zayne says. âthatâs it. donât move.âÂ
you keep your eyes shut, nodding. âi really canât thank you enough, i-âÂ
âwatch.âÂ
for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. âwhat?âÂ
zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on. Â
âthis is another cleanser,â he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. âiâm going to clean around the sutures.âÂ
you stare incredulously at him. â...okay.âÂ
heâs not fooled by your aloofness. zayneâs right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming. Â
your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand.Â
he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up.Â
you watch like a fool. then, when heâs done, and you think youâll have to admit to what youâre thinking, he furrows his brows at your face. Â
âdid you cut yourself here, too?â he murmurs.Â
âwhere?â you croak.Â
zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. âmm. here.âÂ
he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back. Â
you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if youâll be able to somehow flee the office without another word.Â
ânot yet,â zayne says. âlay back again. you donât have to put your head back; just lean back.âÂ
and you do it, instantly, because...well, because. Â
zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more.Â
as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he canât look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister. Â
âyou like to watch me work,â he hums.Â
his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over.Â
âshut up,â you bite.Â
he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving.Â
âthank you,â you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips. Â
his pupils are swollen. âsure.âÂ
you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice. Â
âmy break will be ending,â zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk. Â
you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches.Â
âwhat do i owe you?â you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare.Â
ânothing,â zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. âbut go to the front desk before you leave. iâm going to call in a prescription ointment for you.âÂ
you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. âoh, wow. thank you.âÂ
as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says,Â
âiâd like to stay with you, but i canât. iâll be working until dinner.âÂ
âno, no,â you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. âiâm fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.âÂ
he still canât look at you, but at that; zayne grins.Â
âiâll call you when i get home,â he says. then, âis that okay?âÂ
you swallow. âof course.âÂ
âi want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,â he adds.Â
âoh, sure,â you tease.Â
his eyes darken, like darts. youâre almost afraid. Â
zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. âiâm glad i could be of service.âÂ
he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says âservice.âÂ
â. *. â
this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace fluff#love and deep space x reader#l&ds zayne#l&ds x reader#l&ds#l&ds zayne x reader#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#l&ds fic#l&ds smut
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minted: part two (snippet) (m) | myg
snippet: minted: part two (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au series: masterlist | part one summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, yâall. thank you so much for the love on this series already! itâs been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! enjoy this snippet since i missed the initial part two drop! note 2: this series is for @sailoryooons, @joonary, and @minttangerines! love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma, poor reader :(((, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeeeâŚ, tension, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn est. drop date: september 16th, 2024 snippet word count: 1.5k est. total word count: 9k >:))
â
â
Thereâs something to be said about the human gut.Â
Not because itâs the source of multiple health aspects, or the way itâs connected to the brain.Â
But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.
Who is this person next to you?Â
Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run?Â
You donât know if you released your hand or if Yoongi let it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.
How can someoneâs profile be so troublingly handsome? Youâd be able to think more clearly if he wasnât both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply werenât on the verge of collapse.
Frankly, if you didnât just murder a man youâd pass out as soon as you took too long to blink.Â
To keep yourself alertâand to hopefully gather some much needed intelâyou suddenly question aloud, âWhere are we?â
No answer.
Alright.
âThat driver called you Agust,â you recap on a second go. âWhat was that about?â
All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else heâs doing besides talking.Â
Okay. Well.
You can face forward, too.Â
âThose guys after us,â you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. âThey didnât look like Crane.â
âDoesnât mean they werenât.â
Your neck almost snaps when you turn. âAre you kidding me?â
As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you canât believe he doesnât agree.Â
Mm. Does he?
From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume youâre right to some degree. Because it looks like heâs very, very bothered by the people that chased you down.Â
If those werenât any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbersâŚ
What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?
Geez, itâs freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You canât even appreciate the way Yoongiâs veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.
Lies. You absolutely can. But thereâs no way in hell youâre ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesnât want anything to do with you!Â
Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too?Â
But that taxi driveâŚ
Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff.Â
Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved.Â
All you wanna do is go home, and you donât even know where that is.Â
How far did you travel? What district is this? Youâve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.
That brings up another question. âIf weâre in a grey zone, how did you knowââ
A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.
But the elevator doesnât say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on?Â
One thingâs for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if thereâs only one bed youâre hogging it or taking theâŚ
FloorâŚ
There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling.Â
But when the elevator doors slide open, you canât even fathom what the fuck youâre dealing with.Â
And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are.Â
âHoly shit,â you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.
Donât elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?
Forget a whole floor, itâs a whole other place.
You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.
The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like youâve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?
How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home.Â
And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors.Â
Perfect.
âWhat.âÂ
You turn at the scrape of Yoongiâs voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, âWho⌠Who even are you? What is this place?â
He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. âThereâs a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.âÂ
âŚIs that really his only response?
âThatâs not what I asked,â you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.
âBut itâs what you need.â
âSay what now?âÂ
The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket.Â
But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends.Â
This is all too much.Â
âYou know what I need? To go home,â you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. âHave a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.âÂ
You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm, and the voice you hear courses through your ears, âThe fuck are you doing?â
âShouldnât be that hard to figure out.â
âYou serious?â
âYes, I am. So move.â
Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside wait heâs gonna let you go that easily?Â
âŚOh.
That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isnât one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than onceâin mere hoursâthat heâs no regular civilian. Nor man, for that matter.
But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization.Â
No matter how you slice it, youâre much better off with him than you are by yourself right now. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun.Â
He did keep you alive that whole chase.
But thereâs the smallest, tiniest chance that you arenât quite safe with Yoongi, either. You donât even know who he is anymoreâmaybe you never did.
So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.
Good. You donât need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life youâve chosen to lead again.Â
Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done.Â
And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again.Â
Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal.Â
Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you donât, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back.Â
No good. No good no good you didnât plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance?Â
You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room youâll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic.Â
Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; itâs obvious he doesnât care so why should you? No going back now. Youâll figure it out. The doors are finally opening.Â
And someoneâs inside?
Wait.
Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.
Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a hotel employee, right? They wouldnât be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches.Â
However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire.Â
Because you canât do this alone. You arenât nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not.Â
You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse.Â
And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongiâs stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions and words you canât name.
Yeah.
You fucked up.
Fuck.
-
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tbc. :))
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are we ready for the drop?! | join the taglist!
a/n: this is just the beginning!! who knowwwws what's gonna happen during the rest of the 9k+ lsdkfjdskl thank you all so much for hanging in there for me as i navigate multiple hobbies and endeavors. it means a lot to see your words of encouragement! always appreciated, and i hope you look forward to the real drop hehehe. more links: masterlist
#minted monday is here!!#see you next week for the droppp#bts fic#bts fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#yoongi smut#minted#minted2#fanfiction#bts smut#bts angst#*latest#ryenwrites#*ryenfictalk
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Milkman (Francis mosses) x fem! Reader
Thick as blood
Sweet as milk
Ah yes, you. The new doorman. The DDD hired you for your attention to detail and ability to examine more than just physical detail but the way people talked, their actions even the movement in their eyes.
Dopples are horrible at those details, some are just straight stupid and donât try
But today was your first day in the building fresh from training, the building didnât have a doorman before so you were ready for confrontation and confusion
Your uniforms was meant to look friendly, with a DDD button the the left breast. the DDD issued you with a pistol in case a Dopple did get in.
The block has been notified and given everything they needed to get in. Now it was your job to make sure they were safe
The day went slow no one coming in till lunch, you were not given one but you were allowed to eat whenever suited you
Soon tho a very happy woman came byâŚshe had heterochromia at first you assumed dopple before looking at her papers
Right Nacha Mikaelys . Everything checked out as you studied her taking notes in your head, she smiled seemingly unaware of what was happening âhowâs your day so far?â She asked looking through her purse, possibly for her keys âgoing well, Iâm y/n your new doormanâ you replied passing back her papers âhave a good day maâamâ she nodded taking them back âpleased to meet you y/n see you tomorrow â Nacha waved and walked out of sight
You got up from your chair to walk around your small office, you fix up your uniform as you hear someone come up to your glass panel. It was a milkman..? you raised your eyebrows at him. He didnât look quite surprised to see you. He slid his papers into the slot and waited. You grabbed the papers and looked up and down at them. You then looked up at him and studied his features while trying to talk to him. âHi Iâm y/n the new doorman pleased to meet you, Mr. Moses.â
âMmâŚpleased to meet you y/nâ
Oh god. You blushed! What a schoolgirl
You slid the papers to him quickly looking down âall is in order, good day sirâ you almost stuttered before looking back up at his dark tired eyes âgood.â He walked off not noticing your sudden change in tone.
Oh god he sounded like a night time soap, deep and soft. you could listen to him read a chapter book and hang on every word, a phone book would sound sexy! And his eyes! Ugh you would kiss them if possible! You let your blush stay as you fell head over heels for a man that spoke 6 words to you (I counted) another person stood before you, before you could even greet them you stopped in your tracks
It wasnât human. Its face was a drawing taped to it. No mouth but it spoke âallow me in pleaseâ
You softly pressed the urgency button as you slid out your gun. You could hear the dopple screech and writhe behind the glass and metal shutter while you called your superiors âI have oneâ you spoke sternly not wanting to show any fear âon the wayâ the triple D officer spoke. You stood back pistol in hand breathing slowly to calm down soon though the screeching stopped and the metal shutter lifted revealing a man in a yellow suit âdopple eliminated. Good workâ he walked away with 2 others carrying a body bag.
You shivered placing the weapon back in its place you were glad most of those things were dumb but it made it no less horrifying
Your mind raced as you thought about the two things that just happened to you almost simultaneously first having a girl crush on a milkman and now almost getting killed by a stupid Dopple
Your immediate thought, as you sat down and tried to organize to calm your mind was, how does a milkman live in a building with such high earners ? How much does a milkman make ?ďżźyou pondered looking over the files of residents
After introducing yourself to a couple of other residents, the day ends, and itâs time for your shift to end as well.
One Dopple the rest human honestly the best you could hope for on a first day, the other thing you could look forward to is that because you do work in this building, you can live in the building for way less rent than everybody else, you picked up your items from the desk and made sure everything was clean before you left and lock the door behind you no one was allowed to leave or enter the building after 10 PM unless of course it was an emergency, but they would be escorted by DDD officer at the front of the building ďżźďżź
You took the elevator to your apartment âF05â the old landlord room, it used to be boarded up but the DDD had it refurbished for you, still looked a little dingy but ultra cheap rent for a 2 room apartment was worth it
You opened the door but jumped a little hearing another door âohâ you heard the deep voice looking to your left, Francis in a white wife beater and a cardigan. He has a cigarette in his fingers unlit âoh sorry you startled me goodnight Mr.mossesâ you tried to excuse yourself quickly but to your surprise he spoke up âI didnât know you lived here, actually I didnât know there was a 5th apartmentâ he finally lit his cigarette taking a long drag (itâs the 50s) you nodded hoping to clear his confusion â it was boarded up in the early 40s, itâs called a lord suite. a place for the landlord to stay in case of quick repairs or whatever else may happenâ he listened rather intently taking the cig out of his mouth, god did you want him to ask you to take a puff just to indicate something âohâŚI remember those really fell out of fashion huh?â He asked passing the half done cancer stick. You screamed in your head agreeing with him and taking in the smoke âwell enjoy, I need to sleepâ he walked back to his apartment almost slamming the door, was he mad? He didnât indicate anger or distrust, you finished the cigarette and smudged it out on your stove placing the butt on the counter almost contemplating about saving it⌠you were weirding yourself out a bit but came back to.
You did as all necessary and got ready for bed
You dreamt of Francis sitting on the roof with you holding you close both of you in your uniforms as you kissed him deep and hungry begging for more in your movements you felt him move down to bite softly at your ne- TRRRIING TRRING
your alarm clock yelled at you a few more times before you could slam your hand down on it groaning and streaching âgod I am down badâ
End pt 1
I know but the game is set in like 1955 America but it gives me such Soviet vibes ďżź
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âSugar, sweet rush.â â YJH
â¸â¸ŕ Ë. fluff . one-shot . suggestive
â pairings : jeonghan x f!reader â warning : teeny tiny suggestive if u squint, reader is mentioned to be inexperienced with baking/cooking (lmk if there's more ^^) â wc : 1.1k [âď¸] ¡ Your 'heaven of recipies' seemed to flop once again, but with Jeonghan here, you won't be upset!
â note â guess who had this idea in her mind since the past 2 weeks yet made no efforts to write it down...? BUT ITS HERE! SO POOF POOF I GUESS đđ
You sigh, staring at the mess that laid on the kitchen counter. Attempting to try something new sounded so exciting that you had completely forgotten the fact that you've never baked a cake before.
Maybe this was your signâto never enter the kitchen for good. Because your so-called âheaven of recipesâ trickâa guide book you nicknamedâdidn't seem to work this time. Infact, it never did. But you liked to tell yourself, âBetter luck next time!â
And Jeonghan, your lovely boyfriend, was your little supporter.
âHii babyââ Jeonghan halted in his tracks as he stepped into the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe. His baby voice, used specially for you, stopped as well. He blinked his eyes, shifting them on you.
âDid you mess it up?â
âWhat does it look like, han?â You simply said, closing your eyes as you hung your head low.
âAwh,â Jeonghan cooed, gently hugging you from behind. âIt's okay, at least you tried, right?â
âThat's not helping, hannie.â
âHm, really?â Jeonghan pouted, tilting his head to get a better view of your face. His eyes shifted onto the bowl of strawberry filling you had prepared; safe to say it was looking delicious, and Jeonghan was proud of you for that.
However, his eyes gleamed with mischief at the sight of it.
âThen this will,â he said, leaning forward to scoop a handful of the filling, shifting his gaze on you with a playful smirk.
âHuhââ Turning your head to look at him, you were met with strawberry filling smashed on your face.
You gasped and Jeonghan laughed, like a little evil gremlin, wanting to be playful. While you stood there, dumbfounded with your mouth agape.
âDid this help?â
âHey!â Coming back to your senses, your eyes widen, and without wasting a second, you charge at him with the filling in your hand you just wiped off your face.
âTake that! Take thââ
Jeonghan fired back, grabbing your hands as he continued wiping the filling all over your face, with a cheeky grin.
You both continued. Shouting, laughing, the kitchen becoming way more messier than it already was.
âOkay, okay, okayââ Jeonghan laughed, trying to take a grip of your hand to stop you. His eyes were closed, and he was barely able to keep them open to prevent you from accidentally hitting them.
âNo, who started it?â You forced your hand out of his grip and started wiping all the filling over his face.
âThen I should end it too!â
And the next thing you know, Jeonghan has his arms wrapped around your waist tightly as he carries you to the couch.
âHannie!?â Trying to wiggle yourself out of his surprisingly strong grip, you whined. But he continued walking somewhere with his hands around your lower torso, holding you firm against him.
âThere,â your back fell flat against the soft fabric of the couch, and you were met with a cheeky smile on Jeonghanâs face as he slowly hovered above you.
âWhat are you doing?â You asked with hands resting on his chest, lips curving into a faint smile as your eyebrows furrowed. He pressed himself against you, letting out his tiny giggles.
You both looked like a mess right now. Thankfully, the filling didn't stick to your clothes. You couldn't afford losing your favourite top.
âMm, I'm craving something sweet right now..â Jeonghan said in a pouty voice, sighing. You tilted your head, confused.
âLike?â
His grin grew wider, and you knew what he was about to doâwould you stop him, though? Definitely not.
He tilted his head, closing the distance between you, and pressed his soft lips against yours. Gently moving his lips over yours, he moved his arm on the side of your waist; the other one holding the wrist of your hand that rested against his chest.
A few seconds in, you couldn't hold back your chuckle. Jeonghan opened his eyes, looking at you with an amused look as you both burst into giggles.
âWas that what you planned all along?â
âMaybe,â he smiled softly. âDid it work, though?â
Your smile widens, a faint blush spreading over your cheeks, eyes looking away to the ceiling behind him. âIt would be a lie if I said no.â
Jeonghan chuckled, reaching out to squish your cheeks. âAigoo, you're too cute.â He exaggerated in a baby voice, holding your cheeks in his hands.
Ah, yes, Jeonghan loved baby-ing you. As much of a gremlin he might be, he loved you.
He loved everything about you, and his favourite thing? Grabbing the opportunity to squish your cheeks in his hands as he compliments you in a baby voice.
A knock on the front door startled you both out of your little dreamland. Jeonghan grunted, looking at with puppy eyes as if you could magically make the person waiting outside disappear.
âCan we just leave it?â He pouted, burying his face into your shoulder.
âNo, hannie, it might be important.â
âButââ
âOkay, I'll go checkââ
âIt's okay! I'll go, I'll go.â Jeonghan said, pushing himself off you with a pout on his face. As he got up and made his way to the door, he muttered things under his breath that sounded something like âWhy do people ruin the momentâŚâ
You chuckled at how his mood immediately switched from grumpy to sweet as soon as he opened the door.
âHello, is it Yoon Jeonghââ The lady paused, staring at Jeonghanâhis face almost covered with sweet strawberry filling. But something more sweeter was his smile as he nodded.
âYes, it is me.â
The lady smiled awkwardly, immediately handing him the paper to sign. âPlease sign this, it's a courier.â
And he did, handing the paper back to her. He bid her goodbye and grabbed the box, making his way inside.
âWho was it?â You asked as he stared at the box and shut the door behind him with his foot. He looked at you, shook his head, and placed the box on the table.
âDon't know,â he laid on the couch, hovering over you again, his face buried against your neck.
âWas it a courier?â
Jeonghan nodded, lifting his head to look at you. âShall we continue where we left off?â He asked, voice playful, a cheeky grin on his face again.
âGod, you're a tough one.â You laughed, which he shut off by smashing his lips against yours.
Now, in that moment, you don't even remember you were upset a few minutes ago over a failed attempt to bake a cake. You loved how Jeonghan always distracted your mind from being sad.
Everyday, just like this moment, you swear you find yourself falling for Jeonghan again. You're falling for him once again, just like you did back in highschool.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan imagine#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan fluff#bf!jeonghan#jeonghan scenario#jeonghan scenarios#idol au#jeonghan fanfic#seventeen fic#yjhzies
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These Destined Ends
Part 2
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. Youâre now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child â the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: he steps on your hand, non-consensual kissing, slapping
A/N: In which you try to stand your ground against Feyd and it just makes him horny
Palpable tension fills the room. You notice, not happily, the heavy presence of guards. As pale and unmoving as the walls, you wouldnât have recognized them if not for the subtle hand signals from your mother. Jessicaâs fingers twitched in the ancient Atreides language.
Stay on guard, she warns you. You donât even have to look at her to know what sheâs saying â you learned the secretive hand signals before you could even speak. Even just a quick flash of her fingers in your peripheral and you understand.
Will this day end in bloodshed?
The thought rags at you.
âWelcome,â the Baron finally bellows, voice thick and rasping as sand over the dunes of Arrakis. âIt is truly an honor to receive you here today.â
Leto nods, ever the diplomat. Youâre grateful for his lead and the prowess of his social navigational skills because, at the moment, youâre afraid that you wonât be able to speak. Not in the face of your destiny and certainly not under the severe scrutiny of your betrothed.
The Baron beckons you and your family closer and you swear that you notice Feyd-Rautha lean forward in interest.
âI trust your journey from Arrakis was well,â the Baron says.
Your skin prickles at the mention.
âCertainly. It was a smooth ride. Iâm sure youâre familiar, since youâve taken it recently,â Leto replies coolly.
The Baron snaps, âAnd will again soon.â
An insurmountable current of hostility perpetuates the room, not visible but impossible to not to notice. The Baron claps his hands together, the sound resonating. âBut we arenât here to discuss space travel, are we? Lady Y/N, step forward so that we may see you.â
The slightest nod of approval from Jessica. Her hand brushes yours as you pass by her.
Itâs unknown to you how far you should go but you take several large steps away from your parents until youâre completely vulnerable. You hope no one is able to perceive your nervousness, or the slick state of your palms. You keep them hidden in the folds of your dress.
âMm, lovely enough,â the Baron remarks. His repulsive gaze travels your form. Not in the way that one might appraise a mate but rather a livestock for purchase. âExcellent hips for birthing.â
You bite your tongue to stifle your retort.
From the shifting of garments behind you, you know the comment has unsettled your parents as well. Your mother warned you that the situation was delicate, that the Harkonnens would wait for the slightest aggression to attack. You do your best to maintain a comprise of neutrality, the cool indifference your mother manages to exude.
âStill an Atreides,â Rabban growls, low enough only for you, the Baron, and na-Baron to hear.
The Baron ignores this. âWell, nephew, wonât you greet your betrothed?â
A small exhale escapes you.
Feyd-Rautha lopes from his position beside the dais to stand before you. His proximity is overwhelming, the sheer size and force of his presence eclipsing all else; his lips have not loosed from their taunting smirk, an infuriating expression you wish to rid him of.
âHello, betrothed,â he says. His voice, too, rasps against your ears, cool and unbothered.
âHello,â is all you manage.
In a move that startles you, Feyd-Rautha unsheathes a dagger from his armored uniform. It glints dangerously in the low lighting. Although you canât see her you hear Jessica cry out in surprise, in objection, and the guards at the perimeter of the throne room coil with anticipation. However, you keep still.
Feyd-Rautha presses the tip of the dagger lightly into your neck, below your ear. His dark gaze flickers down the column of your throat, following the trail of the blade. Itâs a strangely sensual act, intimate in ways that disturb you, the fragile balance of trust and power it commands. Feyd-Rautha stops at the dip of your throat, where your heart is beating wildly, directly above the Atreides clasp.
He clicks his tongue. âYou wonât be needing this.â
The Harkonnen slices at your cape faster than you can ever react â the garment flutters from your shoulders to the ground. Itâs then that you realize heâs cut away the clasp and effectively stripped you of your Atreides title.
The clasp bounces against the polished floor.
Compelled by shock, by pure reflex, you bend down to grab it. Feyd-Rauthaâs boot closes down on your hand before you can retrieve the clasp, slamming your palm down over it as he traps your hand against the floor. You gasp in surprise, and pain, the pressure of his booted foot clearly more demonstrative than punishing. For now.
âI told you that you wonât be needing that,â he says, exasperatedly informal. âStand up.â
Teeth gritting, you squirm beneath his boot, trying desperately to reclaim your hand. âNo!â You shout at him. âIt is rightfully mine.â
He presses his boot down harder. You squeal.
âYou are rightfully mine. And you will do as I say. A wife with a broken hand is still capable of fulfilling her duties.â
Shame burns your face and couples with the disgust taking root in your chest. Feyd-Rautha regards you coolly from above. If you thought you would survive the attempt, youâd snap his leg.
âFine,â you spit out.
His smooth brow raises. âWhat?â
âFine.â
âLouder,â he orders. âI want them all to hear you. Forfeit your Atreides loyalty.â
In the few seconds that you take to consider this, he pushes his entire weight down on your hand. The pain steals away all rational thought as stars appear in your vision. Your breath saws painfully in and out of your lungs. It takes all of your strength to grit out, âI forfeit my Atreides loyalty.â
A bout of protest explodes from Leto and Jessica, and the sound of their disbelief cuts you deep. You collapse onto the ground, clutching your injured hand and watch in horror as Feyd-Rautha stomps on the clasp and shatters it.
Pieces go flying.
Thereâs a terrible joy in the Baronâs voice: âEnough, nephew. I believe youâve made your point.â
âThat was completely unnecessary ââ Leto begins. He quiets as a trio of Harkonnen guards gather not towards him, but you, weapons and lasguns trained on your crumpled form.
A memory emerges from your subconscious, an afternoon in which Leto mentioned that having a child is like having a lasgun pressed to your temple at all times.
His throat bobs with suppressed emotion.
Your parents wonât try anything if it puts you in peril. Even Jessicaâs control of The Voice is useless.
âLady Y/N is now a member of the House Harkonnen. Her husband will do with her what he sees fit,â the Baron declares. âNephew, have you had quite enough?â
Feyd-Rautha faces his uncle. âFor now.â
You tremble beside him. A heady mix of pain and anger boils beneath your skin. The Harkonnen soldiers fall back as the Baron waves a massive hand.
âTake her to her chambers. Iâve had enough.â
You protest, âNo! I need to say goodbye to my family!â
A sickening smile spreads on the Baronâs face, and he holds out his arms. âWeâre your family now.â
You donât even get a final glimpse of your parents as the soldiers hoist you to your feet and corner you off from them. The roughness of the guards jostles your injured hand. âGet off me,â you growl, yanking yourself free from their grasps.
The soldiers move to contain you once more but Feyd-Rautha rasps, âListen to your future Baronness.â You gape at him. The faint hint of a smirk returns on his face, and he steps toward you. âIâll escort her.â
Then he grabs your injured hand as a tether.
The doors to the throne room slam shut.
Feyd-Rauthaâs grip on your hand is strong, undoubtedly a reminder of his control. It takes more than a few pulls to dispatch him and, once you do, he whirls on you with a curious, almost bewildered look.
You seethe, âWhat is wrong with you? How dare you destroy my family pin.â
âYou cannot be my wife if you have loyalties elsewhere,â he says, as if the explanation is obvious. âYour loyalties are to me and the House Harkonnen.â
âI decided where my loyalties lay,â you tell him. âAnd they belong to no one but myself.â
Feyd-Rautha studies you, then huffs.
âIâm being serious,â you hiss.
âI know.â He steps casually toward you, though itâs anything but. Your body tenses. âSo am I.â
An indescribable feeling crashes over you, sweeping you nearly off your feet. Everything youâve heard about him vanishes. In a move that surprises even yourself, you advance on him, close enough to see the glint of glee in his dark eyes. Heâs actually enjoying this.
âYou have taken everything from me,â you sneer at him. âMy home. My family. My name. My future.â You inhale shakily, fighting back a sob. âBut you will not take away my allegiance.â
âDo you think that I wanted this?â Feyd-Rautha asks bitterly. âAnd donât pretend as if you didnât just forfeit that allegiance. To me. Have you already forgotten?â He touches your face, much to your chagrin. He crooks one finger under your chin and raises it. âNeed I remind you?â
âYouâre a monster.â
Feyd-Rauthaâs handsome features arrange into what you can only describe as satisfaction. âYes I am.â
You recoil as the Harkonnen then presses his lips to yours, holding your chin in place to keep you from shying away. Itâs brief, almost perfunctory in nature. A passionless, predatory claim.
He pulls away, and the subsequent sound of your slap reverberates through the empty corridor.
Feyd-Rautha clenches his jaw. Your hand stings from the strike, and you hold it at your side in anticipation of a retaliating blow. He rolls his neck. An eternity passes before he turns his attention back to you, pale cheek still reddened by your hand. It pleases you to notice it.
âWeâre even now. Wife.â
Feyd-Rautha snatches your hand, which until that moment the pain had been subdued by adrenaline. You wince. He kisses your already mottling knuckles, the sensitive skin of your wrist, never pulling his eyes from yours.
You refuse to react, to acknowledge the flicker of heat ignited low in your belly.
Feyd-Rautha drops your hand then and, as if nothing had happened, turns on his booted heel and starts down the opposite direction. âCome, wife. Itâs time I show you our quarters.â
Part 3
Tags:
@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle
#dune#feyd x you#feyd x reader#these destined ends#part two#feyd smut#feyd rautha#fanfic#writing#fanfic writing#writers on tumblr#oh no he's hot
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