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alwaysonthemend · 9 months

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Author’s Note: Hi guys! Can't believe it's been so long since I last posted. Hope you guys enjoy this one! As always, if you see any typos... no you didn't

Warnings: Fem!reader, drunk Jake (alcohol), unprotected p in v sex, cock warming, fingering, hand jobs, doing things we shouldn't in a public place, cussing, partying. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5k

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Late has already bled into early by the time you manage to spot Jake in the crowd again. His back is to you as he speaks excitedly to someone you’ve never seen before – though there’s a definite chance that Jake hasn’t either (he’s a chatty drunk no matter how well he knows the person).

Tonight is a celebration of sorts. A celebration of what is to come and what they've already done. With tour on break for the holidays, the Kiszka-Wagner clan had been taking some much needed R&R after such a long and grueling schedule of shows before they have to leave again. The first few days had seen Jake lounging at home, perfectly content to spend his days entirely wrapped up with you. You had binge watched some shows that he’d missed while gone, ordered take out from all the places that he’d been craving, and over all spent almost every minute of the day within each other’s company.

But Jake is a man who likes action – regardless of how much he enjoys spending time at home with you. After a few weeks of nothing, you can tell that he’s itching to be doing something again. First there had been simple dinner gatherings with your immediate friends and family, then jam sessions with the rest of his brothers that had lasted well into the night, and then finally he’d begged to go to this party tonight. Josh is hosting (no doubt he’s experiencing the very same restlessness that his twin is) and a party hosted by Josh is always a sure fire promise of a fun night.

So you’d happily agreed and given Jake the go ahead to let loose tonight – party as hard as he wanted for however long he wanted and you would be there to drive him home. His eyes had lit up at your offer before he’d given you a sweet kiss and a murmured thank you before scampering upstairs to call Josh and let him know that you two would be coming.

But as excited as Jake had been to go out tonight, he’d still periodically found his way back to you, begging you to come join him where the music is the loudest. You’d politely declined him each time, wanting to give him time to spend with his friends and brothers after giving so much of his time to you. You know that his offer is genuine. Jake wants you by his side at all times (he’s a clingy motherfucker even when he’s sober) but you had simply told him you would prefer him to go spend time with everyone else instead. He’d begrudgingly agreed and you’d since been spending your time watching him go from sober to tipsy and finally to actually drunk within the span of the last few hours. You liked watching him like this – smiling and carefree amongst the people that he loves (along with a number of people that you’re pretty sure Josh only invited because he likes a full house).

But the crowd has dwindled as the early hours of morning approach. It’s nearing 3AM now and only some 15 people remain. You’d been parked in a far corner for the past hour or so but you’re pulled from your spot by Jake calling your name. He, along with Josh, Daniel, and Sam, have made their ways over to the couches and chairs in Josh’s living room and consequently collapsed into them. The core group you like to call them, finding each other to close the night out amongst themselves. There are others still left elsewhere – some faces vaguely familiar and some completely foreign to you, but they’re all far too wrapped up in their own conversations and drunken storytelling to notice that the host and family has moved somewhere else.

Josh sits in one of the loveseats, one arm lazily thrown around the shoulders of his partner – also suitably drunk, who’s nuzzled into his side. Sam sits in another chair, cheeks flushed and hair a complete mess as he pours himself another drink. You know already that he’d say he’s earned it since he’s spent the night “slaving away” as the party DJ. That leaves Daniel and Jake left to find their seats, Daniel finding his place on one end of the sofa and Jake on the other. You make your way to them – each of the boys exclaiming excitedly at your approach.

“Y/n!” Josh booms, the sheer loudness of him drowning out the others and startling his poor partner, “Gracing is with her presence at last!”

You giggle as you make your way to the sofa, eyeing the spot between Jake and Daniel.

“Now that you all seem to have settled down a bit I thought I would join you.”

As you make to sit down, Jake’s hands find your hips and guide you instead to sit down on his lap. He sighs contentedly as you surrender to him without a fight, easing down on the tops of his thighs and settling your back into his chest.

“Hi.” You tell him, twisting as much as you can in his lap to turn and see his face. His cheeks are flushed and a yummy sheen of sweat adorns his neck and temples. Eyes dark and lips looking particularly plump, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Hi there.” He answers back. “Missed you.”

He smells like alcohol and weed – a combination that seems to have left him feeling particularly touchy as his hands settle themselves possessively on your waist. He’s warm against you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back lulling you into a relaxed state as he falls effortlessly back into the conversation with the rest of the boys. His words rumble in his chest and you take the opportunity to lean your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder. The smell and heat of him sets off some carnal, feral part of your brain and you find heat of your own pooling between your thighs. You ignore the feeling, opting instead to try and focus your mind on the conversation at hand.

“-and so I told him that he would either have to sleep there or find someone else to take him home because I wasn’t doing it.” Sam’s voice wafts through the air. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about but you have a sneaking suspicion that he probably isn’t all that sure of what he’s saying either.

“You’ve always been a little punk ass.” Josh interjects, giggling a little bit at his own words. “Since you came out of the womb.”

Sam meets him with a scowl.

“I just learned from the best, actually.” He snarks back, though there’s no real heat behind his words.

“Don’t talk about Danny like that.” Jake’s rumbling voice interrupts and though you can’t see him, you can hear the grin as he speaks. “He’s a wonderful influence, Samuel.”

Danny laughs heartily, tossing his head back as he does so. Josh smiles like he’s just won a prize and Sam only meets Jake with an eyeroll.

“I was talking about you two.” He says, pointing between the twins.

They continue on with their bickering and you do your best to keep up with them. The few remaining guests filter their way out one by one, giving thanks to Josh on their way out. The boy’s conversations weave in and out, jumping from topic to topic as they often do. It's hard to keep up, especially as your focus strays from the conversation to the uncomfortable kink in your back from sitting in this position against Jake’s chest. You shift a little bit, settling down further in his lap to ease the feeling. As you shift, a hiss escapes him and his hands tighten on your hips.

“Angel.” He whispers, tilting his head down to press his lips closer to your ear. “Careful.”

You can’t help the way your eyes widen and your core pulses at his tone. His words are rough and ever so slightly slurred. His fingertips dig into the meat of your thighs in a way that makes you dizzy with a sudden want for him to take you right here in front of everyone.

“Something wrong?” You answer him back, turning your head and capturing his lips with yours. Alcohol and weed and Jake hit your tastebuds and you shift once again in his lap.

“Something’s hard.” He murmurs against your lips.

And he is.

You can feel him now, hot and solid against your ass. It sends your blood boiling and your cunt clenching around nothing.

You exhale shakily, willing your voice to remain passive and unbothered.

“Poor baby.” You say, turning back away from him and earning yourself a growl from deep in his chest.

“Jake stick you with being DD for the night, Y/n?” Daniel asks, causing everyone’s eyes to shift towards you and Jake. You can feel him tense behind you. He’s still rock hard against you and everyone’s eyes on him only serve to make him more excited as he tries to play it cool.

“I offered.” You answer Danny, dropping your hand onto Jake’s thigh. “Plus, he’s a handful to deal with even when I’m sober.” You squeeze his thigh. “So I figured I’d lay off the alcohol tonight.”

“Oh he’s something alright.” Josh supplies, grinning ear to ear at his brother. You worry suddenly that he knows somehow. Freaky twin thing and all that, especially given the Cheshire smile he shoots your way. But he looks away and back to the others quickly and you dismiss the idea. Freaking twins.

Conversation divulges again and the attention falls from you and Jake. But he’s worked up now and there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily. Sober Jake is a horndog… drunk Jake is damn near insatiable.

“Play nice.” Jake warns you, his voice just barely loud enough that you can hear it. “Don’t wanna have to punish you.”

That finally makes your breath stutter and halt in your chest. Jake can feel you still against him and he chuckles.

So the game begins.

Wordlessly, you shift your weight and slide your ass across his crotch. Jake bites his lip and his eyes blaze as he watches you settle your rear onto the sofa next to him with an innocent smile. With your legs draped across his hips (still keeping his hard on from being seen by everyone in the room) you’re free now to settle into his side. You’re playing a dangerous game messing with him like this but the new position allows for you to press your calf into the growing bulge beneath his dark jeans and for your hands to settle on his midsection. Deceivingly innocent to others but filled with possibilities to tease him. Jake knows this though, and those dark eyes of his are pinned to you, lust-blown and dangerous as his breathing picks up.

You look away and do your best to turn your attention back to the group. Jake does the same, but the feeling of his hard dick against your calf is proof enough that he’s still more than distracted.

As the conversation carries on, you do your best to interject every now and then to at least pretend to be interested. But you’re more interested in taking Jake home and devouring him. But you suppose the waiting will only make the reward sweeter in the end. Jake, for his part, seems to be feeling the very same. His eyes dart to your face periodically, heavy lidded and carrying the weight of how much he wants you right now. But even with the lust coursing through the both of you, he still looks at you whenever he makes a joke (making sure he’s succeeded in making you laugh) and his fingertips absentmindedly drum songs and beats onto your shin. As worked up as he is, his sweetness still seems to outweigh the alcohol in his system. It just makes you want him more.

Bored with waiting and ready for him to say it’s time to go, you delicately trace your fingers across his midsection. You press your fingertips into the soft flesh of his sides as you keep your eyes trained anywhere but him. Jake cocks his head to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you shift your leg and rub your calf across him. Half-hard still, his body tenses. His hand finds yours on his belly and he stills it, grip tightening in warning.

Not satisfied with his reaction, you press your leg down again and this time his spine goes ramrod straight as his hips buck up on their own to meet the feeling.

That’s one point for you.

“Why are you trying to start shit?” He murmurs, taking a sip from the glass that he’d just refilled.

“Because I can.”

“Because you’re desperate.” The last word comes out as an almost growl.

You shake your head.

“I’m not anything.”

“You think I can’t tell?” He asks you, his head tilted down and gaze trained solely on you. You scan the rest of the group, afraid that they’ll hear whatever filth is about to spill from between his plump lips. Thankfully, they’re all far too engaged with their own conversation to notice what’s going on between you and Jake. “Your cheeks are flushed all pink like they get when you’re horny.” He starts, fingers trailing up from your calf to your thigh. “And you're breathing fast. Like you do when you’re wet.” His fingers go higher still and your thighs clench despite yourself.

He wins the point this time and you can’t help the little sigh that escapes you.

“Maybe I’m just tired of waiting.” It’s all you can think to say – the lust fogging your brain and making it impossible for you to come up with a witty retort. You want him. Now.

“You’re going to have to wait a while longer.”

“Why?” The question is reminiscent of a young child. Whiny and full of demanding petulance at his refusal to take you home and fuck you this instant.

“Because someone,” he shifts his hips slightly, “made me rock fucking hard. And I can’t get up like this right now. Not with all them” his eyes dart to the group, “sitting right there.”

You huff a breath.

“Please.”

He hums and places his glass on the table next to you. His own control is cracking under the weight of your heavy gaze (and calf that's teasing his dick relentlessly) and you realize with glee that you've gotten what you wanted.

“Gentlemen,” he starts, clapping his hands down on your legs and interrupting one of Josh’s long-winded stories. “I think we’re going to call it a night. The missus is getting tired.” He grins at you and you flush even more.

“Leaving without helping clean up?” Josh demands, extracting himself from his partner’s grip and rising to his feet.

“Oh, always.” Jake answers him, words still slightly slurred. “But you’ve got these fine young gentlemen here to help you.” He gestures to Sam and Danny who both groan but stand up with Josh anyway.

As they begin busying themselves with picking up glasses and paper plates, you raise your legs from Jake’s lap and stand. He follows you – though he teeters dangerously once he’s on his feet.

“Easy.” You warn, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him balance.

“I’m fine.” He laughs, but his steps remind you of a baby deer trying to walk.

As the two of you make your way outside, you both hiss as the cold of the night hits you. You press yourself further into Jake’s side. As you reach the car – parked all the way by the road, you make to open the passenger door for Jake but he pulls you into a kiss first.

His tongue plunges into your mouth and he groans as you grant him easy access. Despite the cold, your body thrums with the heat of your arousal. Jake’s hands are sloppy as they caress every inch of you he can get – your sides, your tits, your ass, everything. As you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair he leans his full body weight against you, pressing you into the side of the car and caging you there. You can't quite tell if it's just so he can keep you where he wants you or because he can't stand upright any longer. Either way, wetness floods your panties at the feeling of his body pressing into you. Solid is the only word you can think of to describe him.

“Jake.” You moan as his lips trail down to your neck, the heat of his mouth a delicious juxtaposition to the frigid wind. He’s relentless, drunkenly nipping and biting at your skin in all the ways he knows you like. “Jake, quit.” You tell him, even though it’s the last thing you want him to do.

“Why?” The question is muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your throat.

“Get in the car. It’s cold as fuck.”

He pouts but he straightens up and removes himself from you and you ignore the ache in your belly at the loss of contact. Jake’s fingers wrap themselves around the handle of the door but not of the passenger seat. Instead, he opens the door to the back and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Jake.”

“Y/n.” His tone matches yours mockingly, his eyes glittering.

“It’s freezing.”

“So let’s warm up then.”

You try to fight it. You know you should. You’re out here where any one of the neighbors could look outside to see what’s happening if they look hard enough. If Josh looks outside and sees your car still here there’s no doubt that he’ll know what’s happening. Sam and Daniel are spending the night and are probably drunk enough that they’re already passed out but who knows if one of them might happen to look out a window.

But the ache between your legs has grown nearly unbearable and you don’t want to wait any more than Jake does. And as you watch him clumsily climb into the back seat and lean himself back against the opposite door you know that any shred of resistance you had is gone.

“You’re drunk.” You scold, unwilling to admit defeat even as you climb into the car with him and shut the door behind you. It’s freezing in the car and your teeth chatter slightly as you settle in.

“Quit fussing.” He tells you, spreading his legs and pulling you in to settle between his thighs. “Don’t wanna have to wait.”

At that – at the pleading, whiny way he says the words, you cave and crash your lips back to his. His hands find your sides again, squeezing possessively. Your own hands find his shoulders as you attack his mouth with yours. The kiss has no real finesse, all teeth and tongue, but it’s perfect. Jake is moaning beneath you with every pass of your tongue and you realize with no small amount of excitement that the alcohol in his system has taken away any ability he had to hold all those noises in. He’s always vocal. But this? This is like Heaven to your ears.

His hand drops to the waistband of your pants and his fingers dance along the skin there before slipping beneath. His fingers are cold as they graze over your clit through the fabric of your panties. His middle finger presses in, applying just the right amount of pressure as he begins to rub in little circles. You moan loudly into the kiss and his answering groan tells you all that you need to know about how into this he is.

“You’re soaked.”

You nod, head falling back and mouth dropping open as he pushes your panties aside and circles your swollen clit even faster.

“Take these off.”

You obey, sitting backwards and toeing your shoes off before sliding your pants off your legs. It’s cramped and clunky in the confined area of the car but Jake watches you like it’s still the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Your shirt is next, discarded carelessly into the floorboard as you paw at his own shirt, desperate to see more of him. Jake lifts his arms and pulls his short off, the fabric joining your clothes as well.

No matter how many times you see him like this, you still can’t help but be amazed. He’s glorious before you, all milky skin and soft curves that make you want to bite him. His arms flex as he pushes his jeans down, the strength of his biceps and forearms the perfect balance to the rest of him. Without pausing long enough to think about it, you drop low and sink your teeth into the supple flesh of his side.

He cries out in answer, arching his back and head falling back with a thud against the window.

“Y/n. Fuck.” He whines and you take his moment of surprise to palm him through his boxers. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said he was hard as a rock. Even through the fabric you can feel the heavy heat of him.

You trail your mouth down to the waistband, licking along the skin there before grabbing it with your teeth and pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You sink lower still, intent on enveloping him in the warmth of your mouth but he stops you with a hand in your hair.

“Wait.” He sighs out breathlessly, causing your eyes to flick to his questioningly. “Not gonna last if you do that.” He grins sheepishly and you laugh.

“Who’s desperate now?’’ You ask him, echoing back to his taunt from earlier.

“It’s your fault.”

With that, he sits up and surges forward, slamming his lips to yours again and pushing you backwards. He settles on top of you, his cock resting against your ass cheek. The movement had taken much effort, his drunken limbs just a little too clumsy for finesse and grace and you both laugh a little as you settle. Finally, he pulls your panties all the way down and you whine as the cool air hits your wet center.

“Jesus.” He murmurs, those dark eyes of his devouring the sight of you beneath him. “Been waiting for this all night.”

He sits upwards, gripping his cock in his fist as you spread your legs for him. The car is small, your back shoved into the corner and your head cocked at an odd angle. But none of it matters as he finally slides himself into you. You cry out, hands reaching out to grip his shoulders. His groan is deep and rough as he bottoms out and pauses, allowing you a moment to adjust to the familiar stretch of him.

“Move.” You beg him, hooking your legs around his hips and using your heels to dig into his ass and pull him closer.

He plants both hands on either side of you, fingers digging into the leather of the seats as he starts to rock his hips. His brows tip upwards and his eyes fall closed as you clench around him helplessly.

“So fucking tight.” He slurs, hips snapping into yours deliciously. The air between the two of you is thick – humid and warm enough that the windows have begun to fog up completely.

“Harder.” You whine and his body trembles and shakes as he tries to follow your command.

His mouth drops open and a loud moan escapes him as he picks up his pace slightly. His arms tremble where they fight to keep himself up in this position and you giggle softly at him.

“Switch with me before you fall over.” You urge him before tossing your head back with a moan as his cock brushes against that special spot inside of you. Even drunk off his ass he can still find it with ease.

“Fine.” He huffs, pulling out of you and settling back into his earlier position with his back against the door. “Sorry.” He mumbles, giving you a drunken little grin.

“S’okay.” You tell him, climbing over his thighs to straddle him. “Can watch you better this way anyway.”

He preens a little at that, cheeks flushing a dark red as you grip is cock in your hand and guide the head to your entrance. You sink down and whine as this position allows him to slip even deeper into you than it had before.

You roll your hips and moans punch out of both of you. He always feels so fucking good – but having to wait so long for it tonight has only made it even more rewarding now. His hands grip your ass, kneading into the flesh and guiding your pace. His eyes are half lidden as he watches you and sweat begins to bead at his hairline. The look he’s giving you – hair a mess and mouth dropped open, is a familiar one. It’s one you’ve seen on his face countless times; both as he’s fucked you and as he plays his guitar on stage. It’s enough to have the coil in your belly begin to tighten already.

“So fuck’n beautiful.” He moans lowly, his eyes pinned to where your tits bounce with each roll of your hips.

You whine and lean downwards, kissing him roughly as his hips begin to thrust upwards to meet yours. You can tell that he’s losing it beneath you – his focus torn between trying to kiss you and trying to match the rhythm you’ve set. He’s pussy drunk and actually drunk and the thin bit of control he has left is starting to break.

He uses his grip on your ass to guide you upwards, pressing your breasts into his face. His lips lock around one hard nipple as one hand comes up to palm the other one. He moans louder still, the sound muffled against your tit. The feel of him… he’s everywhere in this cramped car and all of your senses have been completely overtaken with just Jake.

“Please.” He whines, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, his face contorting in pleasured agony as he holds himself back, waiting for you to finish first. You toss your head back and cry out, his cock hitting your sweet spot as you ride him into oblivion. The noises falling from him are barely human – rough and broken in a way that lets you know that he's completely overtaken with the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm finally hits you, seeming to start at your toes and work its way all the way through you. Your body shakes as you ride it out, walls fluttering and clenching around his cock. Your moans are only interrupted by cries of his name as he fucks you through it before finally your brain manages to come back to reality to take in the sight below you.

Jake – drunk and fucked out with his eyes pleading up at you.

“Gonna fucking cum, Y/n.” He thrusts up once, twice, three more times before he’s losing it. His head thrashes and curses fall from his lips like prayers. It goes on forever, his body tensed up and legs shaking on either side of you as he spills his release into you.

Finally, his body relaxes and stills. And his beautiful eyes blink open to look at you. A dopey and satiated smile spreads across his lips. You can feel his cock where it’s still inside you softening, but neither of you really want to move yet.

“You’re so pretty.” He says with an alcohol-drenched smile.

“And you’re still very drunk.” You giggle, kissing him softly.

“I don’t have to be drunk to be able to see that you’re pretty.” He answers with a slight pout. Even inebriated he’s not going to let you run from a compliment. His ability to still recognize those little insecurities that you still have, no matter how much he’s had to drink, makes you smile softly down at him.

“You’re pretty too.”

He flushes and opens his mouth to retort but it’s cut off with a hiss as you pull off him. You reach down to grab your phone where it’s been discarded on the floorboard with yours and his clothes and the screen lights up enough to make you squint your eyes.

Two notifications await you.

Josh 4:27AM

you guys okay?

Josh 4:34AM

in my driveway?? :(

You can’t help but laugh at the message before clicking your phone off. The windows have completely fogged up now so there's no denying your guilt to Josh.

As you turn back to face Jake, his eyes have closed and he looks almost asleep.

“Hey.” You smack his chest and he startles, making you laugh even harder. “Get dressed so we can go home.”

He groans and sits up, eyes looking glassy but still wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Round two once we get home?”

“If you can stay awake that long.”

“Challenge accepted.”

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#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka

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chelseeebe · 11 months

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just wanna (get with you).

okkkk i promise i am not neglecting promise (i am) but i just had to get this out before the thought left my mind. this is just to say nancy wheeler i love you and i’m sorry

18+. smut. steve is an adulterer. but it’s okieee bc it’s hot <3

this is very much richboy!steve, he is very cocky and brash and very much not afraid of it

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

you had prepared to spend thanksgiving break alone in your room, honestly quite happy not to have to go home and deal with your car crash of a family.

that was until stacy had caught wind of your lonely plans and interjected, offering you an invite to her family’s massive home. now, it’d be rude not to accept, right?

you totally weren’t influenced by the fact that her older brother would definitely be there, not at all.

the drive up was a long slog, hours until you ended up in the middle of buttfuck indiana. it’s not somewhere you ever envisioned yourself spending the holidays but she had ensured that it was nice enough. her parents were.. interesting but as you were there, they’d probably at least try to keep up appearances. there wasn’t much else going on but in this tiny town but it gave you a chance to relax and ogle her brother.

their house is huge, like, ridiculously big. much bigger than their small family needed. from what stacy has confided in you, you can gather that her parents are hardly even home. they like to make a big deal about holidays to give the impression of a well put together family but if anything, they’re on the brink of divorce and only holding it together for the fear of being seen as failures.

not that your family are much better, but at least they don’t pretend to like eachother.

steve is up at the door the moment stacy unlocks it, waiting to see which of her sorority friends she’d decided to bring along.

he grins the second he sees you, taking your bag out of your hand and introducing himself before you can even begin to speak. not that you mind.

‘leave her alone, steve,’ stacy warns, rolling her eyes as she begins up the stairs, motioning for you to follow.

‘why don’t you leave me alone? i’m just being a good host, isn’t that right?’ he smiles at you, lugging your bag up the extravagant staircase and toward the room you’ve been assigned.

it’s not as if there’s a lack of them, a multitude of white doors that probably sat empty. it’s incredible how a house could cost so much and yet lack character despite the ample space to decorate.

she shoves him out of the way the second you make it into the room, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘uh uh,’ he’s smirking now and it’s making your heart feel funny. it’s wrong, totally wrong. but you can’t help it.

when he’d appeared on move in day you’d been star struck, his caramel coloured hair flopping into his eyes and the way his t-shirt clung to his arms had caught you immediately.

you and the rest of the girls in the house, obviously.

‘well go and find something to do you fucking loser,’ pushing him out of the door and slamming it in his face.

you couldn’t exactly tell her that it was fine and actually you preferred if he stayed.. so you grin and give her a fake chuckle, looking around at the room you were to call home for the next week.

‘i’m sorry,’ she sighs, ‘ignore him.. he’s just like that,’ walking over to the pristine bed. it obviously hadn’t been slept in for a while, you don’t doubt that they rarely have guests.

‘it’s okay,’ you smile, exhilarated for what this week will bring.

you don’t see much of the illusive mr. harrington, burrowed away in his office for most of the day with his wife busying around the kitchen, putting on an unnecessarily large spread each day. now you’re not a psychologist but even you can gather that she’s trying to make up for something.

stacy had bundled you into her room under the pretence of studying, both of you sat on her bed with neglected open books. opting to gossip about shit in your house rather than the looming finals.

steve knocks on the door and rushes in without waiting, standing in the doorway with a devilish grin. ‘mom’s drunk again.. you two wanna get out of here before it gets ugly?’ leaning against the doorframe.

he looks extra good today, his grey sweatpants sitting just right. you’re mindful to pull your eyes away when he nears the bed though his eyes never leave you.

‘like what?’ stacy frowns, sitting up and closing the untouched book.

‘i dunno..’ he shrugs, ‘i just don’t wanna be here when he gets back and she’s drunk again,’ fiddling with some trinket on stacy’s shelf.

you can tell that stacy’s not keen on the idea but she doesn’t want to be here for that scene either. you can empathise entirely, which is the exact reason you decided not to go home.

‘okay,’ she turns to you, ‘you okay with that?’

‘yeah.. sounds good,’ smiling at your friend. in your peripheral, you can see steve’s lips twitch into a smirk, cocky bastard.

much to your dismay, the three of you end up bowling. which you wouldn’t usually mind, but the alley was full to the brim with parents and their screaming children, running around the lanes hyped up on copious amounts of sugar.

not to mention the blaring christmas music that was entirely too loud for a tuesday afternoon.

‘you bowl much?’ steve scoots over on the bench, leaning in to whisper of the screeching kids.

‘not really,’ shaking your head innocently, ‘do you?’

‘yeah i’m alright.. i can teach you, if you want?’ ever the opportunist. who were you to deny him that?

‘okay,’ you giggle, blinking up at his chocolate coloured eyes.

it’s pathetic but your knees almost crumble when he walks up behind you, arms coming to envelope yours, large hands perched over yours as stacy tuts and turns away.

‘like this..’ his chest presses against your back, pulling your arm back and letting the ball roll down the lane.

you very nearly groan when he pulls away, hand lingering on your elbow as the pair of you watch the pins knock over. he smiles gently at you without even looking at the pins, he’s already sure he’d won.

‘thanks,’ you nod, keeping your own smile contained as you walk back to the bench, squishing in next to a less than impressed stacy. she’s not stupid but doesn’t dare to say anything and you’re grateful for that at least.

you watch steve take his turn, wondering how much longer you can feign incompetence to get him to touch you.

their house is quiet when you get back. eerily quiet. stacy and steve share a look before heading inside and you already know to prepare for the worst.

mr. harrington is sat facing the blank television, sipping on a small glass of what you presume is whiskey. the fire blazing in front of him, crackling loudly in the otherwise silent house.

‘your mother’s in bed,’ is all he says, refusing to turn around to face his children. he’s a stoic man at the best of times but seemed extra cold tonight. you don’t want to think about what had happened while you were out.

the atmosphere brings you crashing down out of your high, the loud bowling alley seemed like a dream compared to the moody room you stood in. at least your family were entertaining in all their madness. this was just depressing and you don’t have to wonder just why stacy is the way she is now.

steve slinks off upstairs without saying a word and stacy follows, head ducked down. they’ve probably been through this exact routine a hundred times before. you follow along silently, assuming that mr. harrington definitely didn’t want you hanging around downstairs.

before stacy slips away into her room, you grab onto her elbow, pulling her round to face you, ‘my mom drinks too.. i know what it’s like,’ offering some meek words of encouragement. it’s not a lot but you can empathise with the sinking feeling you know she’s feeling.

she gives you a small smile, pulling you in for a quick hug as the shower starts in the bathroom to your left. steve hadn’t hung around, disappearing before you even made it up the stairs.

‘night,’ you mutter before entering your own room.

there had been a tiny part of you that had hoped maybe tonight something would happen but with the scene downstairs and steve’s eagerness to get away, you doubt it.

there’s an almost silent knock at your door, if you were any sleepier, you would’ve missed it.

you know who it is.. what’s waiting on the other side of that door and for a second, you contemplate it. you could very easily turn over and drift off to sleep without ever finding out what could’ve been.. but, you’re not going to do that. not after you’d optimistically worn your best pajamas, dousing yourself in perfume before you had climbed into bed.

sliding out of the bed to open the door quietly and just as you expected, steve is on the other side with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

he doesn’t speak before stepping into the room, shutting the door gently as you stand expectantly before him. your heart is pounding, it’d jump out of your chest if it could.

‘steve,’ you barely whisper, ignoring the growing ache between your thighs. enthralled by the sheer tension in the room, it makes the air heavy, weighing on your shoulders as you practically pant at him.

in one quick move he’s stood in front of you, hands cradling your waist, confidence oozing off of his smile. his hair is still wet, falling onto his face perfectly. it’s almost cruel that someone could look so good so effortlessly.

‘i need you,’ he whispers, his spider-like lashes cascading a shadow over his face in the dull light. he’s so perfect it hurts.

you choose not to reply with words, hastily planting your lips on his, closing the minuscule gap between your bodies as your chest presses to his. you’re walked backwards towards the bed, the excitement is palpable, his hands barely able to contain themselves as they grip and squeeze your flesh.

steve falls backwards onto the bed, pulling you atop of him, clumsily readjusting your knees either side of his hips, gasping into his slack mouth when his grinds upwards, his already erect cock nudging against your core.

pulling your shirt over your head before reconnecting his lips to your jaw, planting hungry kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. this is everything you’ve dreamed of since you arrived, the feel of him desperately moving beneath you becoming entirely too much. you needed him now.

he shimmies his own sweatpants down his thighs, choosing boldly to not wear any underwear. he’s big. his cock springing up against his stomach, gazing down into the space between you, mouth hung open as he works your shorts down with his delicate fingers.

‘what?’ he hushes innocently as if he doesn’t already know. his hand leaves your thigh to wrap around the base of his dick, pumping his fist ever so slowly.

your eyes meet his again, feeling your cheeks flush as the corner of his mouth twitches. if he weren’t so hot, his cockiness would be sickening. but you’re not one to bend to the will of men, brushing off his nerve and instead moving to grip onto his shoulders, positioning yourself above his leaking cock.

‘i know what you sorority girls are like.. you don’t have to- fuck,’ his head rolling back as you lower yourself onto him, gasping quietly at the feeling of fullness that quickly overtakes every other sense.

your fingers clamp around his jaw, pulling his face back up to meet yours, ‘what was that?’ sighing through muffled moans as you begin to rut your hips.

you have him at your mercy, moving your hips antagonistically slow, relishing in the sight of his hooded eyes struggling to stay open, soft pants escaping his lips with every careful movement.

‘ho- shit,’ his fingernails leaving crescent moons into your hips and ass, desperate to cling onto your body in any way he can. guiding your body up and down with the palms of his hands.

‘shh,’ you mutter, connecting your lips to the corner of his mouth in an attempt to quiet his groans. as lavish as this house is, you can bet that it’s not soundproof.

‘you’re so.. fuck- faster baby,’ he whines into your mouth, unappreciative of the calm pace you had set. enjoying the fact that you now held the upper hand, but also acutely aware that the sounds of skin-on-skin are indisputable, paired with his grunts, you’d be caught out in a second.

‘nuhuh,’ shaking your head slightly, face pressed into his sharp jaw, hoping to stifle some of the noises come from your throat.

this is when steve decides he’s had enough, this was his house and if anyone had anything to say then they could. his arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place above him as his legs spread, heels digging into the mattress.

your lips connect once again, in a sloppy kiss that requires minimal effort as his hips begin to thrust up, punching against that soft, spongy spot deep within. and now you’re the one responsible for the too-loud moans, practically screaming into his mouth as his tongue slips into your open mouth. his smirk evident against your lips as his thrusts grow faster.

chasing the same high you can feel growing in the pits of your stomach. you’re not even kissing at this point, lips pressed against the stubble on his cheek as his grip tightens, low grunts rumbling into the minimal space between you with every thrust.

‘oh god,’ you mewl, the all too familiar twist in your gut as his hips begin to stutter, the sound of your bodies connecting was spurring both of you on. not caring about your volume level as you come crashing over the edge.

babbling his name over and over again as you clench around him, shoving your face into his neck as pleasure soars all the way down to your toes, the sensation overwhelming your poor fucked-out brain.

his hands paw at the doughy flesh of your ass, resigning his last bit of energy for his last thrusts, hot spurts of cum paint your walls. steve’s teeth graze against your bare shoulder, suppressing his almighty moan as you collapse into a heap on top of him.

you feel like jelly, unable to lift your head when he pulls out, allowing him to manhandle your body as he shuffles down the bed. you shift slightly, moving to the empty space beside him, reaching down for the blanket, desperate for some modesty despite the explicit scene this room had just witnessed.

that was everything you’d imagined it’d be and more.

‘jesus,’ he sniffs, relaxing into your bed as if he belonged there, ‘anyone ever told you how fucking good you feel?’ his arm reaching out to pull your body into his once more.

‘shut up,’ you mumble, still very much coming back to earth. trying not to get too comfortable with this arrangement but letting your leg slide between his.

his other hand flicks the tiny lamp off, leaving the room in complete darkness. toned arms coming to rest around your waist, chin resting against your head.

‘you can’t sleep in here,’ you warn, though you wouldn’t complain if he did.

‘why not? this is my house, i can sleep wherever i want,’ his fingertips dart around your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you don’t argue, settling into your comfy position nestled into his side. it’s not long before sleep takes over as his fingers trace silly patterns into your back.

but you’re rudely awoken at stupid o’clock in the morning, the sun barely rising outside of the tiny window. steve’s grumbling, tapping softly on your shoulder.

‘i’ve gotta go,’ he whispers into your hair, pulling the blanket off of his body and onto yours.

you’re barely coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, nodding along absentmindedly as sleep negs to take over again. ever the gentleman, he places a kiss to your forehead before climbing out of bed and rushing out of the room.

he’s gone before you even wake up fully, not registering what had happened until you wake up again, this time at a more appropriate hour.

it’s only then that fear takes over. had you misjudged how loud you were? what if someone had heard? there’s no way they’d turf you out on thanksgiving.. would they?

yet all seems normal when you slink downstairs, joining stacy at the table as she butters toast without a word to be said about your antics. you pray to every being above that you had gone undetected.

‘morning sleepyhead,’ stacy utters, seemingly in a much better mood than the one you left her in last night, ‘sleep well?’

you stare at her for a moment, deciding if the question is loaded or if she’s genuinely interested in how you slept.

‘yeah.. really good, you?’ testing the waters.

‘yeah not bad,’ she smiles, a genuine smile that allows you to release the breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

phew. you were safe.

‘it’s about to get uh.. tense today so, we can just hang out in my room until dinner,’ she nods assuringly. you trust her, not wanting to bare witness to mr. harrington and his cryptic behaviour.

before you can reply, the front door opens and a small brunette walks in with steve trailing closely. behind her, carrying what looks like a suitcase with the most displeased look plastered on his face.

the woman hangs her coat on the hook, flashing a quick wave towards the kitchen where you sat gawping before heading upstairs quickly.

from here, she looked like a cousin or something, someone you hadn’t been told was attending.

she’s pretty, gorgeous eyes and a polite smile that makes you want to smile.

‘who’s that?’ you ask, perplexed at the sight of this stranger who is obviously so comfortable in their home.

‘oh, that’s nancy,’ stacy continues with her toast, not at all bothered by the new arrival.

‘she’s steve’s fiancée.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst

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sgiandubh · 3 months

Note

2023 or last week

That's not really matters', what is interesting is that Caitríona has a very high level of privacy in her movements or travels

She has a private life that is completely away from notice and attention, no press, no ordinary people, no fan who meets her by chance

Wow.. as if she had the invisibility power since 2019.

Dear Privacy Level Anon,

We're going to do things a bit differently, this time, with an audio answer. Nice to meet you, by the way:

For those who need a transcript, here goes:

'Your charade has very simple answers:

No Press? The Press would have to actually care or be sold a juicy tip/story, about that elusive B-lister who is such a compelling Claire Fraser (huh?) from Outlander ('wait a minute, that nice, secksay series around 2016, right?'). Press interest is, however, likely to immediately jump up, the minute she lands a better PR team and/or a part in a really relevant cinema project. Let's see what those two next movies bring, Anon.

No Ordinary People? Imagine you're Jane Doe (aka, an Ordinary Person), traveling from 🛫 London to 🛬Bangkok. Upon arrival at 🏯Suvarnabhumi Airport , while waiting in line for the notoriously looooong passport control (full profile pic included), you spot C (or S, or C and S, or C and S and Boos 1, 2, 3... 554). They vaguely remind you of someone. That someone could be anyone from a) your cousin Matilda's co-worker you have been briefly introduced to, three years ago; b) someone who looks like your homeland's host of 'Who Wants To Be a Millionaire' TV show (totally random example, here); c) someone who looks like that actress you once saw in that TV series which name you can't really remember. Ultimately, the fact that you are unable to put a name on that face really irritates you. Your feet hurt, you are sleepy, grumpy and you need to go to the bathroom ASAP (🚨🚨🚨🚨). Meanwhile, S and C kiss, Boo #456 is as unhappy as you and wants his blankie. Did I mention you need to use the 🚻 (somewhere far away from 🛃) ASAP? S and C 💋💋💋💋 some more. YOU NEED TO USE THAT TOILET AND YOU'RE STUCK IN THAT STUPID LINE. Boo #433 wants their mommy's attention NOW (🥹🍼🤦‍♀️), so you sympathize a bit ('what a cute 👶, just like his/her parents') but you are really focused on your 🧻problem. By the time you dragged your 🧳to the 🚕 area, in the thick, humid heat at Arrivals, you'd have forgotten everything about it, but remember every single second of your Passport Control Ordeal.

No Fan? Outside of these Tumblr/X/Instagram jihadist pockets, no casual 🪭 would probably ask for a pic, provided they remember the name of the series (it is really poor taste to go for it and candidly tell her/them something like ' oooh, I remember you from The Last Kingdom, such a wonderful series'). Out of those who still go for it, I bet the farm:

85% keep The Nice Pic tucked in their iPhones and just randomly share at the next school bake sale/corporate teambuilding/ Rotary Club meeting with random people saying random things like 'oooh, she's nice, wait a minute, wasn't she in The Last Kingdom'?

10% foolishly post on X or Instagram, to be immediately greeted by The Fandom Vigilantes, courtesy of alerts installed on their own iPhones: 'where was it/ when was it/was she alone/yes? why?/no? why and with whom/ what did she say/ did she say anything/ why didn't she say anything'. If, by a very probable misfortune, what you have to dish out does not click with the Greeting Committee's agenda, expect to be: a) treated like a 5 year old idiot or a tortured POW ('was she alone...? was she alone...? are you sure she wasn't alone...? ARE YOU SURE SHE WASN'T ALONE? ANSWER ME, WAS SHE ALONE?'); b) Caitsplained she is married to someone else and what you saw is an optical illusion; c) perhaps even forced to adjust your own narrative (maybe that 6′ 3" Viking was Tony McGill, after all? 😵). You immediately regret posting it on your public Social Media accounts, erase the pic and go private. By the time you do it (12 hours from posting), it would have been dutifully screencapped, in a middle of a full blown Fandom Skirmish.

5% know what Tumblr actually is (at a minimum) and/or are actively involved in its Fandom Subset. The minute they post is the start of just another Nagasaki episode. The DM inbox will explode with a rich array of pleas/insults/more Caitsplaining. Comments will range from the ecstatic to the revoltingly vulgar. And remember (LOL for weeks):

The Fandom will eventually never forgive you for sharing.'

#anon #fandom #shitshow #weekly audio #Good morning Vietnam

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persphonesorchid · 2 years

Text

Auburn Skies - MYG

Summary: Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi.

Namjoon's gonna kill him.

Genre: 18+, fluff, angst, humor.

Word count: 12k

Warning(s): 18+, smut, oral (m+f receiving) unprotected sex, porn is mentioned. Yoongi and Y/n are BOTH stupid and they need help. Taehyung's trying his best, Seokjin is also trying his best but subtler. Yoongi's convinced that Namjoon's out to get him at every turn. Slight jealousy. Y/n and Yoongi have no idea how to actually hold a conversation like adults, until they do.

Notes: My addition to the Autumn Leaves Collab, hosted by the beautiful @bangtansmauyeondan !! I had so much fun working on this, and I met so many beautiful people that I'm so grateful for, so happy to call my friends 🥺 I love y'all! Please check out the other authors' fics on the Collab Masterlist! Everyone worked so hard, give my girls some love! Shout out to @blog-name-idk and @xpeachesncream for being absolute aNGELS, beta reading and helping me out when I panicked over this lol, and @madbutgloriouspond for helping me brainstorm. I hope you guys enjoy!! Please leave feedback, I'm nothing but a poor soul seeking validation (and motivation!) to keep going.

If you like my content, please, consider donating if you're able - Here

"You're staring." Seokjin nudges Yoongi's arm with his, snapping him out of his daze. He catches Seokjin's smirk, and there's a twinkle in his eye that promises nothing good. Yoongi pulls his eyes away from your form, sitting in a chair on the dock away from everyone else with a book in your hand. You're bundled up in a thick sweater and cozy sweatpants, completely lost in your book.

"Was not." Yoongi feels the need to deny it, distracting himself with cutting up onions, focusing on the way the blade of the knife cuts through the vegetable and definitely not the way Seokjin was wiggling his eyebrows at him.

"Sure. I believe you."

Somewhere inside, there is music playing. A Lo-Fi beat that plays softly under the sound of rain. It's kind of sad, if Yoongi is being honest, but he supposes that autumn is a sad season. Nothing but changes all around. The leaves change colours, mixing like paint on an easel in the hands of a melancholy artist drowning in his own solitude. They shift and the vibrancy of summer fades until they die, falling off their homes to go drifting in the wind, or land on the ground to become everyone's problem.

He doesn't really like autumn, when winter is right around the corner and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones no matter how many layers he wears. Always leaving his cheeks and his nose red, and his fingers hurting when the chill gets to them.

You enjoy it though, even reminded him when he picked up you and Namjoon this morning. You were kicking at the pile of leaves in front of Namjoon's apartment complex like a kid, laughing like you didn't have a worry in the world. You greeted him like you hadn't seen him in years, running up to him with Namjoon's scarf wrapped awkwardly around your neck like you were in a rush.

Namjoon is currently skipping stones with Jungkook near the lake's edge, and Yoongi can see he's halfway to giving up because Jungkook is on his competitive streak again.

Namjoon is one of his closest friends. He met him in college when they were both fresh out of highschool and riding on shotgun dreams of being more than what they are. He remembers meeting you during spring break of his junior year, and you were blabbering about getting accepted into the same college as Namjoon; determined to follow your brother to the end of time.

The only word to describe your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. He'd only ever heard of you, with Namjoon going off about you whenever Yoongi lent his ear. His baby sister who was doing so well in school, his baby sister, who to Namjoon, practically hung the moon in the sky. Now, Yoongi thinks he's naturally awkward when meeting new people, he can't help it. Getting to know someone is hard no matter how much you hear about them, even though you've got a pretty good impression just by word of mouth. There were shy 'hi's' and the most soul crushing 'See you later's' when there's little to no chance of ever seeing that person again. Sweaty, nervous hands meeting in shakes and straight lipped smiles.

Now, Yoongi was sure he wasn't too bad at it. And you were good, smiling brightly, not looking as awkward as he felt. What was awkward was the way Namjoon had excused himself to his parent's kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water. Yoongi had followed him with his eyes, because why was he leaving him standing in front of his sister alone?

Yoongi still remembers the chill that went down his spine that morning, as Namjoon watched him dead in the eyes over your head. A look Yoongi had never once received from him before, one that simply said: "If you think anything about my sister that isn't innocent; you will die."

As a best friend, Yoongi respected that. As a man, Yoongi valued his life. He wouldn't dare. It's the code, do not, under any circumstances, think about your best friend's sister romantically or less. You were off limits from the day Namjoon showed Yoongi that picture of you.

Off limits.

Yoongi heard that loud and clear and Namjoon hadn't said a word that day.

You were off limits, still, when you'd called him at ass o'clock in the morning - not Namjoon, your brother who trusted with everything - about some smarmy asshole who thought it was funny to break your heart. When he picked you up outside a bar where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend of a year, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, crying and slightly drunk.

Looking beautiful even when you had stumbled your way to his car, asking what did you do to deserve getting cheated on. He didn't answer you then, he had too much to say and it wasn't the time, not when you were drunk and wouldn't remember a thing when the sun came up. So he cranked up the heat in his car, and white knuckled the steering wheel the whole drive to his apartment, because yours was too far and it was late.

Off the whole damn table, when you'd kissed him on the mouth, still drunk, still crying and clinging onto him in his living room. He pushed you gently away, even as he licked his lips to chase the taste of you. Keeping the distance between you both wide as he watched you shatter like glass in his hold. You apologized through your sobs, and Yoongi's own heart broke as he tried and failed to pick up the pieces of yours scattered at your feet.

You asked him not to tell Namjoon, and Yoongi never said a damn word. You slept in his bed that night, in his clothes that were way too big for you, and left the next day like nothing happened.

You're still off limits now, even as you've grown up and are going into your senior year. Now that Yoongi finished college and had a job like a responsible adult, now his biggest worry is the price of bread climbing up and whatever the hell was on the news.

"Namjoon, we agreed that you weren't gonna come within 10ft of this space."

Yoongi looks up to find Namjoon wandering aimlessly towards them, holding a bowl of something in his hand. He stops dead in his tracks though, frowning, "I'm not that clumsy."

Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before raising an eyebrow each at Namjoon. He sighs, lifting the bowl in his hand, "Hobi told me to tell you that Jungkook told him..."

"For Christ's sake..." Seokjin sighs, "Just get over here."

Namjoon grins like a kid, hobbling over to place the bowl next to Yoongi's busy hands. The bowl filled with slices of pork belly that Yoongi forgot he told Namjoon to fetch for him a long while ago. Too distracted to ask about it when he was skipping stones with Jungkook, he didn't even notice when he'd moved to get it.

He wonders what else he missed, lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes dart around to catch sight of you. Of course, you were no longer in the spot you'd claimed, now standing next to Jungkook. Both of you are laughing at Jimin, who was struggling to reach a branch of a tree that Jungkook could easily reach without stretching. You attempt it, jumping to reach, but you just don't make it and it's Jimin's turn to laugh, all crescent eyes and round cheeks.

At least someone's having fun.

Seokjin was mumbling something as he pokes at the coals in the grill, and Yoongi avoids looking at Namjoon because he realised he's staring again. He's awfully quiet, and Yoongi isn't sure if it's because of him, and he really doesn't want to risk his life here.

"'Autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful.'" Namjoon says, and Yoongi finds that he wasn't even looking his way. Instead, he was watching the lake with an odd look in his eyes, distant, like if he was thinking about something too hard and struggling to grasp it. At the same time though, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about; smiling to himself. He pats Yoongi cryptically on the back - a little forcefully - catching him off guard, and says nothing more as he walks away.

"We all know what it means when Joon starts quoting." Seokjin snickers, "You're so screwed."

Yoongi hums, and Seokjin gives him a knowing look, a look that says way more than what Yoongi is comfortable with, and he wonders, briefly, if he was being obvious, or if Seokjin was more observant than he gave him credit for.

"I hope the weather holds up." Seokjin mumbles, head tilted up and leaning slightly forward over the table to see past the awning above, he watches the sky with a small frown, "Said it was gonna rain sometime today."

Yoongi is grateful for the subject change, dumping the seasoning he chopped up into a bowl. He glances at the lake, at the reflection of the clouds on the water, they look a little gray with the promise of rain. He doesn't mind the rain, though, if it does, Taehyung's plan of sitting around the fire with marshmallows on a wire would be completely dashed.

Yoongi's not sure he could deal with the kid pouting all night because of it, and he hoped that the weather held up, too.

When lunch was ready, it was a little after two pm. The picnic table was clear of leaves that were raked to the side and into piles to deal with later. Hoseok finally crawled out of the bunk room, hair sticking up in odd angles and eyes sleepy still as he helped set the table with you and Jimin.

Yoongi walks over to the table with the small cooler he'd brought with him, packed full with ice and cans of beer, because what's lunch without it?

Seokjin walks behind, still prattling on about the weather, hoping for a little sunshine later on so he could get in the rowboat and swing his fishing rod around. He may have asked Yoongi if he wanted to come with him, but Yoongi was once again distracted; your soft laugh tunnelling his focus.

He sighs, internally, because God forbid anyone hears and starts asking invasive questions. Taehyung, of course, was clinging to you, not letting you move two spaces out of his orbit. Which of course, wasn't strange, Taehyung was just clingy that way; always stuck to someone like a kitten that hasn't yet learned to regulate its temperature.

The sight of it though, makes Yoongi's chest ache in a way that wasn't unfamiliar to him. The kind of ache that squeezes tight and knocks the air out of him, the ache he felt that night in his apartment living room when you kissed him. Thinking about it now makes the ache worse, because Yoongi knows what that kiss was, he knows what it meant and exactly where it came from. You were reeling that night, fresh out of a relationship that ended in a way you never saw coming, and that's where it came from. You were drunk, hurting, and attached yourself emotionally to the first person to treat you nicely.

It just happened to be Yoongi at the time.

He hates to think about it that way, as though it meant nothing when he wanted it to mean something. Yoongi likes to take things the way they came, there's nothing more than what it was, nothing to decipher or to sit and mull over. Not like he did that night, sitting up late on his couch, long after you'd passed out, then beating himself up about the whole thing because he was this close to laying his heart out at that moment.

He's glad he didn't. When you left the morning after, he wasn't even awake, woke up to his empty bed and quiet apartment. No note, no text - not that you owed him anything - so he left it as it was; unspoken.

He passes everyone a beer, avoiding your gaze when your hand brushes his, ignoring the soft smile on your lips that brightens your eyes and makes his chest hurt. He moves around the table and takes his seat in between Seokjin and Hoseok. He's sitting directly across from you, and to his rotten luck, Namjoon sits to your left, which puts Yoongi within his direct line of sight. He wonders if he'll be able to keep his eyes to himself, not get caught staring at you, even if your brother wasn't even paying him mind. Yoongi is cautious, still.

The chatter that fills the air is gentle, with laughs and catching up with each other. It was hard to find the time to do things like this, everyone was busy with their own schedules; the younger ones had school, the rest of them had work. Shit always get in the way.

Yoongi eyes Taehyung, who sits to your right and was poking at your arm more than he was eating. He had half a mind to tell Taehyung to quit it, the little devil on his shoulder telling him that he should; poking at his cheek and pointing. It isn't his place, though.

There's a twinkle in Taehyung's eye when their eyes meet, something mischievous that Yoongi would normally see from him when he was up to something. He turns slightly to you, whispering something to you with a hand covering the movement of his lips.

Yoongi's curious, he wonders what he's saying that makes your cheeks flush a pretty shade. Wonders what it is, when your eyes meet his for a second and you swat at Taehyung's hand. The younger man was clearly pleased with himself, smiling eyes meeting Yoongi's for a second too long, and Yoongi busies himself with stuffing his mouth with food.

"Think the water's cold?" Jungkook was looking out at the lake, doe eyes curious, his tongue absently fiddling with the ring in his lip.

"It's still early in the season..." Jimin answers, piling a spoonful of rice onto his plate, following Jungkook's gaze a moment after. "Wouldn't risk it though."

"I mean, you can if you want." Yoongi shrugs, "Just don't complain when you catch a cold."

Jungkook pouts, leaning his weight against Hoseok with a groan. Everyone knows Jungkook well enough to know that's exactly what he'd do, and then abuse his position as the youngest for the rest of their stay at the lake house.

The table was silent for a while, everyone occupied with stuffing their faces with the food, interrupted when Namjoon laughed at something Jimin said and choked on the rice in his mouth and is now nursing a bottle of water.

Yoongi missed this, just hanging out with his friends like they were back in college sneaking beer into the dorms and laughing over their drunken rambles. Just being.

Once lunch was over, they cleared the table of the bowls and plates, carrying everything inside to be washed up.

"I'll do the dishes," Hoseok says, balancing the large pot with plates and eating utensils in his hands.

"I'll do them, Hobi." Yoongi takes the pot from Hoseok's lax fingers, not giving him room to complain before he takes everything to the kitchen.

Yoongi misses the way Taehyung pokes your side, he did hear the smack of you hitting the offending limb, though. "I'll help you."

Yoongi feels his shoulders tense, and he tries to ignore it, setting the pot into the sink, while the boys place the other dirty dishes. He watches you for a moment, as you busy yourself packing away the seasoning and packets of spices back into their rightful places. He starts on the dishes, hyper aware of your presence somewhere behind him, but tries his best to keep it as far from the front of his mind as he could.

At some point, you switch places, and Yoongi takes up the task of drying the bowls and plates, packing them where they're supposed to be. He doesn't question it, just grateful to have something to do with his hands, mindful, to keep his head empty, because if his mind strays just a bit, he'll be thinking of things he really shouldn't. Off limit things. Like how he wished he'd just suck it up and kissed you back that night instead of pushing you away like he did. But, that would've been wrong of him, no? It wasn't the time and you weren't in the right frame of mind.

Yoongi skirts by you, packing the bowls back into the cupboard. This is awkward, maybe he should have let Hoseok do it when he said he would.

"Can I ask you something?" You suddenly ask, and Yoongi almost drops the bowl he's holding, not expecting you to speak because you've been so quiet. He glances over to the living room, where Namjoon and Jin are starting up a game of Mario Kart before he turns to look at you. Why does he always do that? It feels as though he's sneaking around for no reason whatsoever, always looking to make sure that Namjoon isn't looking at him.

"Uh, sure?" God, is it just him that's awkward? You look perfectly fine, elbow deep in soap water, scrubbing away at something in the sink, a small smile on your lips. Yoongi wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, bringing them back up to stuff them into the pockets of his sweater. Play it cool, Min. "What's up?"

You turn your head, looking at him, and he swallows. The sink slowly drains, making that odd sucking noise as the water goes down and you look like you're struggling to grasp your words. There's a cute furrow between your brows, and Yoongi doesn't miss the way you bite your lip and look everywhere but at him.

Jin swears at Namjoon in rapid fire, in that way he does when he's got too much to say and not enough breath. Yoongi could see his arms flying up and swatting at Namjoon's shoulder, yelling about the blue shell he threw.

You take a breath, eyes settling somewhere above his head, clearly trying to block out Jin's racket, "Well...um..." You glance at him and look away, and Yoongi's just a little hopeful.

You look nervous, for once, wringing the life out of the dish towel in your hand as you press your lips together. There's a crease at your brow and Yoongi wonders what's bugging you. There were times when you'd freely spill your thoughts, up with him all ungodly hours just talking because that's what brother's best friends do, right? Offer comfort and a space to vent that isn't in the viewpoint of your sibling? He wonders what changed.

He knows though. It was that night, after that, things have been tense between you both, Yoongi just wishes it'd stop. He misses you texting him to tell him how your day went, or you constantly reminding him that he's way cooler than your older brother. He watches you now, if just to see you get even more flustered, even though he didn't know why.

Hope is an evil, never necessarily a good thing, if all it does is make you believe that something would work even though there's a slim chance that it actually would. Yoongi hates that he's hopeful right now. Hates that he's hoping that the flush of your cheeks and your nervous fidgeting has something to do with him, he hates that he wished you'd just spit it out already and stop his mind from coming up with all these things.

"Okay." You sigh, nodding more to yourself in a self-assured kind of way. Your eyes find his, briefly, before darting away, "Okay, so, I wanted to-"

"Hey, Y/n. Wanna play a round of Mario Kart with me?" Taehyung asks, walking into the kitchen with a smile, eyes filtering between you and Yoongi before they settle on you again. He pauses when you snap your mouth shut, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly look at him. You and Taehyung share a look that Yoongi's not too certain he wants to know what's about; the silence between you three is too loud.

"What?" the younger man asks, "Did I interrupt something?"

"No."

"Yes."

Yoongi stares at Taehyung, trying his hardest not to glare at him, because what you wanted to say was clearly important. You were staring at him, Yoongi could feel it, but he's giving you an opening to say what you need to.

"No, Tae, you didn't. I'll play." You smile a little forcefully, finally giving the dishcloth a break and laying it down on the island counter. "I'll tell you later?" You tilt your head at Yoongi and he can only nod, hopeful again, that you really would and not find an easy out.

"Okay."

"Tae, can't we do this later or something?" You frown, speaking lowly as he wraps his arm with yours and drags you away, "I was actually really close this time."

"Yeah, no. You looked like you needed saving. So you're welcome." Taehyung shakes his head, curls swaying, "One day, little butterfly, you'll be free to spill your feelings." He sits you down on the couch next to Namjoon, who thankfully, has his earphones in his ears. Jin had already wandered off to do God knows after his defeat, leaving your brother to fiddle mindlessly with his phone.

You can hear Yoongi moving around in the kitchen, probably still packing away the dishes. Taehyung plops next to you, throwing his legs over yours and almost knocking Namjoon's phone out his hands. He starts up the game after passing you a remote, smiling at you, "He'll probably come over here to watch the game, so I'll lose and he could play against you, yeah?"

"Tae..." You groan, tilting your head back, and he pats your arm in a friendly manner, though a little firm in his delivery.

"If you don't tell him now that's fine..." He points at Namjoon with a tilt of his chin, trying to remind you of your brother's presence without being obvious. "But at least you could spend time with him. Never know what could happen." He wiggles his eyebrows.

Evidently, Taehyung's the only person who knows about that night with Yoongi. He was the one who picked you up from his apartment after all, firing question after question and not giving you room to breathe. Though he was a tad upset that he wasn't your first call when you were stranded, he understood why you'd called Yoongi. At the same time, he gave you an earful about just leaving the man hanging after you kissed him. Something you shouldn't have done in that moment, lord knows what Yoongi thinks of you now.

You've tried and failed so many times to tell Yoongi that you weren't as drunk as you seemed that night three months ago, you knew what you were doing. You were hurt, yes, but it was more out of realisation. Your relationship with your ex had been rocky at best, you'd given into his advances to hopefully put your crush on Yoongi behind you. It was easy at first, to have someone to put your focus on and give yourself to rather than to waste it on someone who didn't see you the way you saw him.

Yoongi has always seen you as his best friend's sister, nothing more. And you'd kissed him that night hoping that even for a second he'd realise, but he pushed you away and you knew there was no use hoping.

Even now, embarrassment still burns at your chest when you think about it, because what were you thinking? You'd left without saying anything to him because you were positively mortified. There were hundreds of unfinished texts that started and ended the same, with you contemplating if you should tell him or not.

More often than not, a tipsy night would find you huddled under your sheets with your finger hovering over Yoongi's contact.

It was more likely that he still saw you as the fresh out of highschool kid who followed him and your brother everywhere.

You groan loudly at your own thoughts, and Taehyung turns his head, looking between you and the TV screen, "Uh....You can play Toad if you want.."

"Huh?" The choose your character screen is up, idle, waiting for you to move your joystick around. Taehyung's already picked, "No, it's not that. I don't even like Toad, you can play him."

"That's the rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth." Taehyung pokes your side with a finger, "What's on your mind?"

"Everything." You sigh, scrolling around to pick a random character. Don't get it wrong, you love Mario Kart as much as the next guy, but right now your mind was far, far away from this moment and the game.

Taehyung pats your thigh, "Maybe losing will help." He snickers, just as the game starts up.

"Oh, you're on." You're not gonna lose, no matter how confident Taehyung is, no one could beat you at Mario Kart.

"Cheater! TaehYUNG. Joon tell Tae to stop do- You're cheating!"

"It's literally impossible to cheat at this game!"

Yoongi leans back against the island counter, content to watch you crash and burn as Taehyung wins yet another race. His victory laugh is deep, almost unheard under the sound of your indignant screeching. The rest of the boys gathered to see what you were yelling about, finding the sight of your losing streak more than entertaining.

Yoongi had paused only for a moment, making a light snack that everyone could enjoy if they wanted to, though, it was only an excuse to make your favourite. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the couch, he can't see your expression, but he doesn't doubt that you're pouting with the cute furrow of your brows that comes with your concentration.

"Namjoon." You whine to your brother, though Namjoon's hands fly up into the air, phone and all.

"Nope, leave me out of this."

"But he's cheating!"

"I'm not! You just suck."

Yoongi picks up the tray of Hotteok as soon as everyone calms down, carrying it over to the group. He rests the tray down on the coffee table, careful to move quickly so he doesn't block the screen for too long.

"Oh! Sweet! Thanks Yoongi." Namjoon is the first to move, leaning forward to grab one.

"Wait, Joon. They're ho-" Yoongi snaps his mouth shut as Namjoon has already picked it up. He promptly drops it, pulling air through his teeth before blowing on his fingertips.

"Ow." Namjoon pouts at his fingers, rubbing them against the material of his grey sweats.

Yoongi sighs, "Be careful, would you?" He focuses on the TV screen, you're directly behind Taehyung, throwing a blue shell that sends him skidding off the road just in time for you to cross the finish line.

"Ha!" You push at Taehyung's shoulder in your excitement, sending him against Namjoon, who drops his Hotteok on the floor.

Namjoon stares forlornly at the pancake for a quiet moment, while you do a victory wiggle in your place, his misfortune ignored.

"Well there you go, who wants to play?" Taehyung asks, glancing around the room. Jungkook waves his arm, getting up from his space on the floor by Hoseok's legs to totter over. "Yoongi! Nice of you to volunteer."

"What? I didn't...?" Yoongi stares at Taehyung like he's sprouted a second head.

Taehyung ignores him.

"Hey I wanted to play..." Jungkook whines, Taehyung ignores him, too.

"Guys, let's go take a nap in the bunk room." He stretches his long legs over Namjoon's, pulling him up by the arms and shares a look with Jungkook who was likely, as confused as everyone else.

"I'm not tired, though. I napped when I got here." Hoseok pipes up, pressing his lips together when Jimin not so subtly nudges his side with an elbow.

"Let's go take a nap." Taehyung repeats, eyes narrowing slightly at Hoseok. He relents under Taehyung's gaze, sighing as he stands and drags Jimin and a complaining Jungkook.

Taehyung smiles brightly, dropping his hands heavily on Yoongi's shoulders. Yoongi doesn't know what the kid's playing at, but allows him to direct him to sit next to you.

Yoongi shares a look with Seokjin, who shrugs and stands to leave too, linking his arm with Namjoon, "I found a book I think you'd like Joon. But we have to look for it, it's lost in my bedroom somewhere..."

"Oh...Kay? Sure."

Their voices trail off as they head up the stairs, and Taehyung waves as he backs out of the living room, with a sweet - suspicious - boxy smile."Have fun you two!"

"Okay what the hell." Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look at you. You didn't look his way, staring dead ahead at the TV, fingers tapping lightly at the control.

He hears you take a breath, "Wanna play Toad?"

"Uh...sure."

A few minutes go by before Yoongi could finally relax, getting comfortable on the couch focusing on the game and not the fact that you're less than a metre away from him. You're nibbling on a piece of hotteok, a little too quiet for Yoongi's liking. He was expecting you to be yelling because he's way ahead of you.

"So...can I ask you a question?" Yoongi keeps his eyes on the screen as he asks, afraid to look at you because he might slip up or stop all together. He could already hear the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. "I just wanna ask about...what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen?"

Yoongi doesn't normally pry, people's business are theirs and not his. But curiosity is driving him up a wall and he just needs to know. Maybe he was being foolishly hopeful again, thinking that whatever it was had something to do with him. That's why you hadn't said anything when Taehyung interrupted, right?

Yoongi wonders what Taehyung's deal was, first he was being too clingy with you - not that it's any of his business - and now he's acting so painfully obvious; trying to get you both in a room alone. It didn't go over Yoongi's head, as not a lot of things do.

He purposely lets you win the race, though, your victory was unsounded as you set the controller aside. "Right... kitchen..."

"You know you could tell me anything, right?" Yoongi says softly, fingers just wanting to reach for yours, if just to offer comfort. He tucks them against his palm though, and into the pouch of his sweater for an extra precaution.

"Yeah I know," You smile faintly, "like old times right?"

"Yeah exactly, and I won't judge, you know that. So whatever it is, just say it."

Maybe his words were a bit harsh? You stiffen a bit in place, sighing through your nose before you turn to look at him. The determination from earlier is back in your eyes again, and Yoongi finds it impossible to hold your gaze, and he's the first to look away this time. Keep it together, will you?

He feels heat climbing his neck, racing to each of his cheeks and he hopes to god you just think he's going pink because it's cold in here. Seokjin really needs to get that crappy heater fixed so Yoongi can blame something if you ask about it.

"Okay so remember the time when you-"

"You two are being awfully quiet." Seokjin pokes his head into the room, staring at you both, but not too long, before his eyes find the tv screen. "Oh, Yoongi, did you win?"

"No..." Yoongi sighs, watching as you shut him out once more.

"Really? It was so quiet..."

You make an offended sound in the back of your throat, straightening a bit to glare at Seokjin.

"Yoongi, can you help me with the firepit?"

Yoongi follows Seokjin outside along the wrap-around porch, the sun was halfway in its descent, painting the sky in a flurry of soft colours. The lake glistens with amber crystals, catching the sun's sleepy gaze as it drifts slowly off behind the hills; almost out of sight.

The sunken fire pit was in the backyard, something Yoongi helped Seokjin install last year. He's quite proud of it really, he did most of the heavy lifting while Seokjin stood around telling him how and where he wanted things like a glorified dictator.

As Seokjin gathers the firewood and steps down the three steps to throw the logs into the firepit, Yoongi realises that he didn't actually need any help.

"Watching you try to talk to Y/n is so painful. Like that time I broke my arm but worse."

"I actually wasn't doing the talking." Yoongi grumbles, enjoying the satisfying crunch of gravel under his sandals as he walks over to the cushioned semi circle bench and sits to watch Seokjin do all the work. "You have terrible timing."

Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head, "It's a wonder Namjoon hasn't figured it out yet...you're so obvious."

Yoongi feels like Seokjin just isn't listening to him, continuing his mission of getting the fire going; his words completely ignored.

"Joon is oblivious sometimes."

"You are too."

"Here, this one's longer."

Yoongi watches as Seokjin trades wires with Jungkook, patting him on the shoulder as the younger man happily sticks his marshmallow on the end of his wire. As usual when they're all together, there's laughter in the air, and the lightness Yoongi feels in his chest is something he misses when he's alone.

He watches the moon rise behind the trees, full and glowing brightly in the cloudless sky. The fire was warm, the burning wood crackling softly, sending little glowing sparks up into the air. Everyone had their own bag of marshmallows for toasting, with chocolate and biscuits for s'mores.

"This is nice," Hoseok comments, smacking Jimin's hand away from the smores he was setting up, tucking them into the corner of a small bowl he brought. Jimin gets one anyway; sneaking it away while Hoseok wasn't looking.

"Yeah, we haven't done this in forever." Namjoon sticks the wire with his marshmallow a little too close to the fire.

"It's gonna burn if you do it like that." Yoongi reaches over and raises Namjoon's hand higher.

"When it's burnt it's the best, though."

"Are you a sadist?" Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, "it's better when it's just a little toasty."

"It won't melt inside if you play kiss and tell with the fire. You gotta burn it." Jungkook's marshmallow was just on the edge of charred and Yoongi watches with mild disgust as he smushes the thing between pieces of chocolate and unsweetened biscuits. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning around the treat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

"Um? There's no way you're enjoying that." Hoseok didn't try to hide how he felt about it, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. "Stop moaning like that!"

"I wasn't moaning!"

"Yes you were!"

Yoongi shakes his head, turning to look at you, who sat next to him, eating out of your own bag of marshmallows. The wire Seokjin had given you is still in your lap, untouched.

"Want me to make one for you?" He asks softly, already sticking a marshmallow on his wire. He hangs it over the fire and twirls it so it gets nice and brown, "Do you want it with the cookies?"

"Yeah, thanks." You smile sweetly at him, and Yoongi feels his heart stutter in his chest.

Once he's finished assembling the s'more, he hands it over to you. You take a bite out of it, and Yoongi struggles to breathe the very next second at the sound you make, turning his head swiftly to stare into the fire as though it would save him.

"Dude, Y/n. That's gotta be the best s'more ever created." Taehyung says, snickering from across the firepit, "Yoongi make me one, too!"

"You can make it yourself." Yoongi's cheeks flush, passing you a bottle of water when you choke.

"I wanna make happy noises, too."

When the fire in the pit smolders and the embers of the wood burn orange, everyone is ready to call it a night. The younger ones escape to the second floor bunk room first, Seokjin and Hoseok right behind them.

Hoseok is trying to convince Seokjin to flip a coin for the master bedroom while they go up the stairs.

"Owner's rights, Hobi."

"You have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with those three? Have a heart!"

Their voices fade, and Yoongi is left standing in the entryway with you and Namjoon, feeling awkward and not quite sure what he should do with his hands. So he shoves them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and drags his feet towards the kitchen, suddenly thirsty.

You and Namjoon are talking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear, but he pays it no mind, it isn't his business, really.

You come in a second later, moving to the fridge just as Yoongi moves past you, and he's a little curious, a little worried, because you look a bit upset. There's a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth as you crack open a bottle of water.

"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks softly, fingers just itching to reach out for you, but he holds his own bottled water a little tighter instead.

"Yeah...Joon is just..." You shake your head, "Are you staying up to watch the movie with us?"

Your change of subject didn't surprise Yoongi, you've been doing that a lot today. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, "I might...do you want me to?"

Yoongi would give you anything you ask for right now, hell, he'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky if you asked it of him.

"Huh?" Your eyes seems panicked for a second as they dart away to stare off elsewhere. "If you want to, it's up to you really."

"Then I'll watch." He gives an easy smile, "Are you sure you're okay?" He steps closer, a hand meeting your cheek gently, unintentionally and without Yoongi's consent. Simply out of his need to offer you comfort when he can, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, maybe it's that stupid thing called hope again; Yoongi swears you lean into his touch. Your skin is warm, like cooling tea on a winter's morning.

"I'm fine," You're staring at his lips as you say this, and Yoongi's heart skips before it gallops, threatening to burst from his chest. Maybe he's imagining it, but you move a step closer, and he does too, leaning down a bit to meet your height, "I just wanted to.."

Just another inch, if he moves just an inch closer. You're so close now that your exhales mingles with his in the space between you both, he could feel the chill seeping off the bottled water you hold, pressed against his stomach where your hands linger.

Yoongi decides he's not going to be awkward right now, he's going to be brave and just do this. He's going to kiss you and pour everything he feels into it, and hope - prays - that you feel it too.

"Ahem."

You and Yoongi both spring apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't. Yoongi's cheeks are heating up too quickly for him to stop it, and yours are too, and he doesn't want to turn around because he knows who's behind him.

Think fast, Yoongi. Think.

"I hope your eye feels better. You should kiss - rinse! Rinse with warm water. 'Cause you know...germs...could uh.... get in there.... "

Really? Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating his death when he turns to face the grim reaper behind him.

Namjoon stands in the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised, doing that thing he does with his jaw. Yoongi feels a little faint, looking at the ugly painting Taehyung convinced Seokjin to buy and hang up in the living room over his head.

"Y/n had something in her eye and I was just checking." He looks back at you and you look just as confused as he's feeling, smiling though, as if his misery is funny to you. "R-remember. Warm water, okay?"

With that he leaves, not looking at Namjoon, who's gaze he could feel at the back of his head.

"Joon, are you serious?" Your voice was a harsh whisper, a little loud in the silence of the kitchen.

Yoongi walks away, hands in his pockets, not catching Namjoon's reply as he makes his escape. What the fuck was that?

"Let's watch The Conjuring."

"Fuck that." Hoseok puts his palms up, "Unless you're willing to cuddle me to sleep, we're not watching that movie."

A chorus of groans fills the room, "For the love of God, just pick something already. Not you, Jungkook."

"It's not my fault Hobi's a coward."

Hoseok's reaches over Seokjin to smack the back of Jungkook's head, who immediately retaliates by hitting Seokjin instead. The three of them trade playful smacks for a moment, while Taehyung and Jimin argue about which movie would be best to watch.

"Okay let's just all pick something." You say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, "Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins; we'll watch."

Terrible idea really, everyone knows Jungkook is going to win.

Yoongi opts out, not really caring what goes up on the screen. He's sitting with his hands under his thighs, trying to keep them warm but at the same time, keeping them from doing something stupid. You're right next to him on the couch, he's once again hyper aware of your closeness, the way your arm would brush his every time you moved, the scent of your shampoo, soft and fruit scented.

He focuses on the way a single tear slips from Hoseok's eye, the way he tries to make himself as small as possible on the other couch next to Seokjin with a white knuckled grip on the latter's sweater. Jungkook triumphs in his endeavour of beating everyone who played against him, laughing, carefree and malicious as he pulls up The Conjuring.

Hoseok keeps his head tucked behind Seokjin's shoulder for most of the movie, clinging to him and jumping at every loud sound from the TV; poor guy's going through it.

Yoongi is just barely watching, staring at the screen, but not really following along - he has no idea what's going on. Mind too distracted with the fact that you chose to sit next to him and not next to anyone else. He's still reeling from the incident in the kitchen, glancing at Namjoon who was stuffing his face with popcorn, form outlined in the glow of the tv.

He could feel the warmth of your thigh through his sweatpants, and every little movement you'd make at the jumpscares and the loud sounds.

Hoseok dips halfway through, going up the darkened upstairs hallway with his phone torch on. Jungkook had the audacity to fall asleep, drooling on Seokjin's shoulder and mumbling unintelligible words; unbothered.

"I'm going to bed." Yoongi says to you, not really sleepy, but not interested in the movie enough to stay and watch. You grab at his hand and he pauses, "What?"

"You're leaving me here to suffer?"

"You're a big girl, you can take it." He shrugs, patting your hand before getting up. "Night guys."

Yoongi lays quietly in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, unable to sleep. He turns his head, looking at the clock that blinks sleepily back at him and sighs, it's getting later into the night and sleep continues to evade him.

The house seemed to have quieted, the sound of Jimin and Taehyung arguing about who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first stopped a while ago, though, the stillness only allowed Yoongi's mind to wander off. He wonders if you're sleeping yet, he knows you have trouble sometimes, a common curse you both share.

He wonders about what you and Namjoon argued about, if it had anything to do with him. God he hopes not. The last thing he wants is for you and your brother to fall out because of him.

There's a soft knock on his door, quiet enough that he almost misses it. Just almost.

Yoongi gets out of bed, dragging his feet to the door. He isn't completely shocked to find you on the other side, looking like you're two seconds from walking away. Your hand still hovers, eyes impossibly big when they meet his in the soft light of the downstairs hallway.

"Hi." You say, softly, hand falling and gripping at the hem of a tee shirt he's sure belongs to Namjoon.

"...Hi?" Yoongi's brows furrow, not quite sure what you're doing knocking on his door at one in the morning, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk to you..." He lets you shuffle into his room, and you walk over to the bed while he closes the door.

"What I wanted to tell you earlier..." You sit on his bed, a good distance away, enough to leave the space between you both cold and Yoongi longing for you to come closer. You seem to be struggling, staying quiet for a little too long.

"Hey." Yoongi calls, "Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? You know I'd never judge you." He feels the need to repeat himself, just in case you need to hear it again.

"You will." You glance at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you shake your head, "This was stupid..."

"Hey, hey." Yoongi grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting up. "How about I look over there?" He points at a random spot beside him with a thumb, "I won't look at you and you can just say it." He turns for good measure, staring at the wall on the far side of the room.

You're silent for a moment, a long moment that has Yoongi wondering. Maybe he should stop pestering you about it, bury his curiosity - his concern - in a box somewhere to forget about. He's been on your back about it for most of the day, granted, the universe apparently didn't want you to say anything, not with the way you were constantly interrupted every time you tried to talk about it. He should take that as a sign and drop it all together.

"You okay back there?" Yoongi asks softly, turning his head slightly, but not facing you.

"I wasn't really drunk." You say

Confused, Yoongi's brows furrow, "Huh?" He turns to face you, "What are you talking about?"

"The night you picked me up outside that bar." You're not looking at him, instead, you're looking down at your hands in your lap. The events of that night comes rushing to the front of Yoongi's mind, the way you kissed him, how soft your lips were.

"Wait, so..." Something in Yoongi's ears was buzzing, loud and distracting, as realization dawned, he feels a heat rising from his toes. "You-" he stands quickly from the bed, now that he knows exactly why you've been trying to say all day, he thinks he just might lose it.

"Why'd you leave without saying anything?" It's the first thing out of his mouth and Yoongi wishes he'd just shut up.

"I was embarrassed that I just kissed you out of nowhere like that. And you pushed me away, what else was I supposed to do?" You say in a rush, "I know you only see me as Namjoon's little sister."

"I don't." Yoongi says, and at your pause, his palms start to sweat, heart kicking against his ribcage. "Why did you kiss me that night?"

"You probably think it was because I was drunk. That wasn't it." You look him in the eye, "I wanted to."

Yoongi takes a breath and a moment to think carefully about what he's about to say, "Y/n." He runs his palms against his thighs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You were drunk. Just out of a relationship and you only kissed me because you were hurting, that's it."

"That's not-" You sigh loudly, pursing your lips and staring at the ceiling, "Do you even know why I dated that idiot? It's because you..." You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your t shirt.

Yoongi waits, giving you the moment you need to gather your words.

"I dated him so that I could forget you." You say softly, not looking at him, and Yoongi feels like he's buffering, like a frozen computer screen. Just standing there as he processes your words, it's taking a while to sink in, or they have, Yoongi is only trying to understand them. "I thought that dating him you would..."

Yoongi sighs, "Tell me something, yeah?"

You nod quietly, waiting. Yoongi watches you for a moment, he's more curious now, "How long?"

He watches as you fluster, eyes darting around to look at anywhere that isn't him. The way your fingers pinch at the dark sheets on the bed, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and Yoongi just wants to kiss you. But as he's been doing all day, he gives you a moment; Yoongi is nothing but patient.

"Since we met?"

Is that a question? There Yoongi goes buffering again. He blinks a couple of times, mind going through the motions of his forced epiphany. The moments when you used to follow him and Namjoon around, all the staying up late texting as though you both were more than you were at the time.

"I really really like you and I tried to show you that night, but well..."

You get up from his bed with a sigh and step towards him and Yoongi tries his best not to take a step back, he allows you to reach him, to stand close enough for him to touch. He's panicking, on the inside, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is a terrible idea and that he should probably stop you.

He can't bring himself to, words stuck in his throat.

You're closer now, Yoongi could feel the warmth of you, and he swears this time that he'll be brave. So he kisses you first, fingers tangling in your hair, a hand gripping your waist to pull you even closer. He feels your hands against his chest as his eyes close, your lips are warm and as soft as he remembers, and he groans at the taste of you. His tongue finds yours, slowly, sliding against yours and he wants to savour this, commit your every sound to memory. Yoongi groans when your hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck.

He pulls back for air, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible, too quickly, he feels lightheaded. But that could just be because of you. He presses a fleeting kiss at the corner of your mouth, nose brushing against yours lightly. He's pretty sure this is what being high feels like, the rushing of his blood in his ears and the tingling at the tips of his fingers.

"You're gonna end me." Namjoon will too. The thought alone was enough to make Yoongi pause, realise the grip he had on your hips. One of his hands is just shy of the exposed skin under your tee shirt, hyper aware of the way your chest is pressed to his, your lips on his neck.

Namjoon is going to kill him.

He feels your teeth nip at the skin of his neck and he hisses between his teeth, your tongue follows. He pulls away, pushing you from him gently to take a couple steps back. He sees the question in your eyes, the soft furrow of your brows. He sighs through his nose, thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was, and how Namjoon would very likely drown him in the lake.

"Y/n...we can't." This was the reason he pushed you away the first time. Yoongi likes to think ahead, think about all the outcomes of a situation before he walks into it. This could go two ways, and Yoongi's mind can only focus on the worst scenario. What if this goes wrong? What if doing this now ruins everything, he'd not only lose you, but Namjoon as well.

He sees your pout and he looks away, wondering why he can't just let it happen and deal with the consequences later. But Yoongi isn't like that. He likes to sit and over think things.

"Is this about Namjoon?"

Yoongi startles at your question, jolting a bit as he drops his hands from your waist, fingers curling against his palm. He's not as good at hiding his thoughts as he presumed, or you just knew him too well for his own good. He answers your question with a silent nod, not meeting your eyes in the darkness of his room.

"Yoongi. He wouldn't care. Namjoon can't do anything, what I do isn't his business."

Yoongi goes to argue that that's not the point. You were so off the mark that he almost laughed, Namjoon wouldn't care what you thought. He wouldn't be able to look past Yoongi even thinking about touching you. So much for being brave.

You sigh, and Yoongi catches the hurt in the sound.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't push me away again, please." You reach for him and Yoongi doesn't stop you, because he can; he doesn't want to. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

"Are you sure?" He asks seriously, catching your wrist, ducking his head so that he could meet your eyes properly, "Tell me now that this is okay because when I start I won't stop."

You barely got to nod before Yoongi was kissing you again, pouring everything he had into it, hands moving down to grip at your ass in your cotton shorts. He takes careful steps, walking you backwards towards the bed.

"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" Yoongi gently pushes you back onto the bed, taking his time to strip you out of your clothes. Not letting his worries and doubts stop him from telling you how beautiful you are, or from kissing every inch of skin revealed to his eyes.

He kisses his way down your thighs once your shorts and panties are out of the way, stopping every now and then to nibble at the soft flesh. Your little sighs and moans are something he wants to record and keep with him forever, even though he wouldn't need them to remember.

He touches you lightly, just to tease, sliding his hands down your thighs, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He wants to draw this out, ignoring your impatient whine and the rise of your hips at his touch. He's waited so long for this, wanting to taste you beyond the kiss you shared so long ago, Yoongi wants to make you beg. Reduce you to a mumbling mess of incoherent words, but at the same time, he too is impatient.

He shushes you gently at your call of his name, fingers parting your folds and watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing at his gaze. "So pretty, baby."

It was your only warning before he dove in, licking a board stripe from your engerance to your clit, focusing the tip of his tongue at the bundle of nerves. You suck in a sharp breath, hand tugging at his hair and it only spurs Yoongi on. He sucks gently in your clit, tongue moving in slow figures and dips a finger into your wet heat. He groans at the way your cunt just sucks him in, arousal dripping down his hand and he adds another, curling them against the soft spot within you.

He looks up at you, past your heaving chest to your fucked out face. Your parted lips, furrowed brows, glazed eyes looking back at him.

"Yoon--fuck."

Yoongi groans lowly in his throat, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, mouth flooding with your taste. He'd stay there forever if you gave him the chance, listening to the way your breath hitches and the sound of your moans and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. He drives his tongue inside you, and the whine that leaves you has him rutting his hips against the bed. He can't get enough of your taste, the way your pussy clenches he's around his fingers.

"You taste so good, baby." Yoongi loves the way you grip at his hair, the way you tug sends tingles down his spine. He thrusts two fingers inside you, crooking them right, hitting the spot that sends your moans into a higher octave. He can't be bothered with how loud you're being, or if anyone's awake right now and would know exactly what you're both up to. You don't seem to care either, too lost in the pleasure; moaning his name.

"F-fuck, right there," you whimper, thighs tensing around his head. Yoongi groans as he obeys, crooking his fingers and rubbing at the spot that makes you sing so sweetly. His lips never leave your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen nub in figure eights. Dragging his fingers within the tightness of your dripping heat, he could tell you're close, feeling the way your thighs tremble. "Fu-"

Your back arches off the sheets, and Yoongi moans when your release gushes out of you and into his mouth. He stays there and takes it all, until you push at him instead of pull and Yoongi lets up, running his hands up your sides in an attempt to soothe as you tremble in the after wave. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," you squeak out and Yoongi chuckles, getting up to sit back on his thighs. He watches you for a moment, watching the way your chest heaves with your every breath, your hair a tangled mess against his pillows. His eyes trail your form, down to the mess between your thighs that twitched at his attention.

"Sure? You good to go on?" He asks to be sure, squeezing your hip gently. You nod, reaching for him and he goes without complaint, caging you within his arms and kisses you slowly. His tongue tangles with yours, and he grinds his hips down against yours, seeking friction for his aching cock, dampening the front of his sweatpants.

"Fuck that feels so good." He groans, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck. He angles his hips so that the length of his cock rubs directly against your clit, shuddering, it feels so good and Yoongi can't stop. He slows down though, because he could feel his release racing down his spine. "Fuck, baby."

"Wanna..." You push at his shoulders, "Wanna suck your cock." Your hands are at the drawstrings of his sweatpants already, tugging, "Wanna taste you, too."

"Fuck, okay."

Yoongi gets off the bed to shuck off his sweats, cock springing free, red and pulsing, precum beading at the tip. He chuckles at your facial expression, eyes surprised even though your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. He notes the way your eyes follow the movement of his hand, he grips his cock and squeezes, thumb catching the translucent drop and dragging it down his shaft.

"You're big."

"Good for you, then?" He pumps his shaft slowly, whispering curses under his breath.

You roll your eyes, "It wouldn't have mattered if-"

"Shh." Yoongi shushes and crooks the fingers of his free hand at you, "Come here."

He leans down to grab a pillow behind you, pausing, "Where's comfortable for you?"

"Wherever you want me," you say sweetly, and it would've been cute with the way you smile, if it wasn't for the look in your eyes. For a moment Yoongi feels like he's in for way more than he bargained for, with you looking so pretty, alluring, like a succubus ready to siphon his soul. Such a far contrast from the you of earlier, fumbling with your words and flushing under his gaze.

"This isn't about me." Yoongi swallows, "Are you kneeling or do you wanna stay on the bed?"

"I'll stay here." You make yourself comfortable, propping up on your elbows, and Yoongi passes you the pillow to help you reach his hips in your position. You slide the pillow under your chest, already reaching for him before he steps closer and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when your smaller hand wraps around his cock.

You mirror his motions from before, pumping slowly and Yoongi's not sure if you're teasing him or not. Tongue snaking out to kitten lick at the head, you swirl it around before taking it into your mouth.

"Ah fuck." Yoongi throws his head back, a hand finding your hair as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. He feels your exhales against his tummy, just barely, his mind too muddled to focus on anything but the warmth of your throat and the wiggling of your tongue under his shaft. "You're doing so good, baby."

You hum a gurgle of a word Yoongi would probably never decipher, the vibrations around the head of his cock has him tugging lightly on your hair and pulling out and away from your mouth, breathing hard. He'd be damned if he comes so quickly, that shit will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

There's a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and you smile like the minx you are, not letting him get far enough away before you're taking his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head at a quick pace. Yoongi could cry, he's trying so hard, there's sweat dripping from his hair, you're pulling him closer, taking him deeper and his eyes roll back.

"Shit. Slow down." His words trail off in a moan, and he's unable to help the rolling of his hips, thrusting his cock into the warmth of your throat, gently, mindful of your breathing. You swallow and he swears, thighs tensing and he stops, pulling away again to release a stuttered exhale. Leaning down, he kisses you, licking into your mouth with haste, tasting himself on your tongue. "Wanna fuck you." He breathes against your lips, releasing your hair for you to scoot back up the bed.

He's quick to follow, slotting his hips between your thighs, stopping to map bruises against the skin of your chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, fingers toying with the other, he takes the pebbled bud into his mouth just to hear you make a pretty sound.

"Yoongi." You whine his name, and Yoongi doesn't waste another second, hooking one of your knees over his elbow, other hand guiding his cock to your wet cunt. He stays there for a moment, tapping his cock against your clit just to watch you squirm. You raise your hips to meet his teasing thrusts and Yoongi chuckles, easing back to slowly drag his cock down your slit until it prods at your entrance.

He slowly presses into you, watching the way your pussy sucks him in, arousal coating his cock. "You're so fucking tight." Yoongi stills, gripping your hips, watching you through a lust filled haze. He thrusts shallowly into you until he bottoms out and stills, free hand squeezing your hip gently. He swipes his tongue over his thumb, pressing the digit against your clit to rub in slow circles, "Relax for me, baby."

When he feels your body relax around him, he moves, setting a slow pace to start, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, swallowing the sounds you made. You arms wrap around his neck, nails scraping red, angry lines at his shoulder blades. The pain only heightens the pleasure he feels, crossing his eyes and curling his toes.

"Fuck." Yoongi bites gently on your earlobe, "You're so good for me baby. So fucking good. Taking my cock so well."

He knows you're getting tired of his pace. You're lifting your hips to meet his thrust, moaning helplessly into his ears. "Want more, baby?" He leans back in time to catch your nod, kiss swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth. He grips your hips again, keeping you from moving, and slows down just to watch you squirm and beg for him.

"Ple-fuck. Jus-" your words cut off with a gasp, hands gripping Yoongi's wrists where he holds you. He sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass loud in the quiet of the room. "Oh F-fuck, Yoongi."

"This what you wanted, hmm?" He tilts his head at you, one eyebrow raised, sliding a hand up your sweat slicked skin to cup your jaw, you take his thumb into your mouth and Yoongi's cock pulses with the need for his release. He smirks, pressing his thumb down on your tongue, pace never faltering, his nerves are on the edge of frying, orgasm tingling at the end of his spine. Pulling his hand away from your mouth and presses his thumb against your clit, looking down at the way his ccok, covered in your arousal, disappears inside you.

Yoongi groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing tight as your breath hitches. "Ah--fuck I'm gonna-"

"Yeah? Come for me, baby." As your body tenses and tremble, Yoongi chases his end, hips stuttering and he gasps, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his release spills into you. "Oh fuck."

Head light and ears ringing, Yoongi kisses you, it's more tongue than anything else, but he doesn't care. He does his best to keep the full weight of him off you, peppering kisses along your jaw. He feels your every breath and his sweat cools on his skin, "You okay?"

There's sweat burning his eyes and he squints at you as you push his hair back and away from his face, you're smiling and giggling shyly. Like if he told you a joke and didn't just fuck you nine ways to hell. "I'm perfect."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning back up again to carefully slip his softening cock out of your still pulsing walls. His release comes flowing out not two seconds after, he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth, cock giving an interested twitch.

Yoongi gets up before he starts something again, because he just might die trying to go through a second round so quickly. "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He looks around on the floor for where he left his sweatpants, he puts them on and shuffles quickly to the door. He only realises just how quiet it is now that it's quiet, he realises how loud the two of you were being.

He goes back to you with a warm, damp washrag, finding you close to falling asleep. He cleans you up anyway, mindful of your sensitivity.

When he's done he watches you for a moment, fingers finding yours first. Mindlessly he fiddles with them and reaches for his discarded shirt and passes it to you, releases your hand only for you to put it on. "We probably could've done this sooner." You say softly, smiling.

Yoongi tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What? The sex or...?"

You lightly swat his arm, "You know what I mean."

"I do." Yoongi presses a kiss to your wrist, sighing when you gently lay that palm against his cheek. He believes that action speaks volumes and there's no need for words, but he realises that he hadn't said it back to you earlier. Though, he was very much distracted and his thoughts were absent. "I like you too...alot...just in case that wasn't clear."

He shifts on the bed to be closer to you and leans his head on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it took me so long. It takes me a while to come to terms with things. I overthink and make things harder for myself, I wasn't sure if this was the right way to go."

You hum softly, breath tickling his ears, "It's okay. I suck too. We could've avoided the run around if I'd just told you."

"Yeah, you're terrible. I had no idea what to do with your smoke signals." Yoongi raises his head, chuckling. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to your forehead and tilts your chin to kiss you softly. "Can I take you out? When we get back."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Yoongi smiles, feeling like a kid and nudges you softly, "Go pee. I'll strip the sheets, go on."

He watches as you walk on wobbly legs till you reach the door and pause, turning your head to watch him with wide eyes, "you don't think they heard us, do you?"

"Nah, they're asleep."

"Dude, whoever was watching their porn so loudly last night, fuck you. Honestly, the lack of respect in this household."

It's the first thing Jimin says when he comes downstairs the next morning, looking like he'd slept on the wrong side of the bed. Eyes swollen as he takes the coffee Seokjin offers and the sympathetic pat to his shoulder.

Yoongi ignores the conversation, even though you looked like you were about to combust next to him. Seokjin was giving him a look from his spot by the stove, looking ridiculous in the pink apron he favoured.

"Yeah the walls are so thin in here it's wild." Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi and you choose that moment to choke on your sip of orange juice.

Taehyung pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a strip of bacon hanging for dear life at the end of it. He looks between the both of you for a quiet moment, strong brows furrowed until something lights in his eyes. "Oh my god."

Jimin, who's slumping in his seat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back upstairs perks up at Taehyung's words, "What?"

Yoongi stares silently at Taehyung, daring him to open his big mouth and say exactly what he definitely wants to say.

"Nothing. Nothing...." Taehyung waves his hand with the fork, sending the piece of bacon flying off it and into his glass of orange juice. Jimin watches on with disgust as Taehyung fishes the piece out of the cup and tosses it into his mouth.

"The bin is right there."

"Are you drinking the juice?"

Yoongi runs circles into the skin of your knee, as Taehyung and Jimin bicker.

"Oh, Joon. Come eat." Seokjin wanders over to the entrance and Yoongi just barely catches the sight of Namjoon passing by, saying that he was going for a walk first. Hoseok and Jungkook enter just then, finding their spots at the table as Seokjin sets plates for them.

"I'll be right back." Yoongi says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, leaving Jimin sputtering into his coffee. He pushes his chair back and stands, catching the way Hoseok squints at you.

He points, not saying anything before he leans around Taehyung to smack at Jimin's arm, "I told you so! You owe me fifty."

"Bold of you to assume I came here with money."

"You guys made a bet?" You ask, incredulous.

"Yeah. It's either someone was watching porn, or someone was getting it. You and Yoongi are the only ones not sharing a room..."

Hoseok voice fades as Yoongi shuts the front door behind him. It's cold, mist and dew clinging to the world and Yoongi regrets leaving his sweater in his room. He rubs his hands over his arms, the long sleeves of his t shirt barely keeping him warm.

Namjoon's already walking, a good distance from the house near the lake's edge. Yoongi takes his time walking over, gravel crunching under his feet, he slots his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.

When he reaches Namjoon, the younger man is crouched down, cooing at something on the ground. There's a little crab scurrying around trying to get away from Namjoon's curious fingers.

"Just let the little guy be." Yoongi announces himself, "Thing's probably scared shitless."

"I just wanna pick him up, though," Namjoon continues to try, sighing when the little crab escapes into the lake. "Oh well.." He dusts his hands and stands up, finally looking over at Yoongi.

"Aren't you cold?" He asks, and remembering he's standing out in a tshirt and sweats, Yoongi shivers. Namjoon looks all cozy in his beige sweater and matching beanie.

"I wanted to run something by you." Yoongi says, looking out at the lake and the way the light of the morning sun glitters against the still waters. He shoves his cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rubbing his thumb over his curled fingers. He realised that this is going to be as hard as trying to talk to you, and Namjoon waits patiently, watching Yoongi with eyes that seemed to know too much.

"Uh.." Yoongi chances a look, glancing at Namjoon who's just as quiet as him, waiting. "Look man, Y/n and I had a talk last night."

"Right?" Namjoon gives him a look, a confused one, head tilting and all.

Yoongi takes a breath and decides to go headfirst, though he takes a step back from Namjoon to be sure. "I really like your sister and we talked about it and I just wanted you to know that."

The uncomfortable look that morphs Namjoon's features wasn't what Yoongi was expecting, especially since the look stays there for a while as Namjoon just stares at him. He raises a hand to scratch at his cheek, "Dude."

"What?"

"Are you saying that I owe Hoseok fifty dollars?"

"...Eh?" Yoongi's confused, and it feels as though he's spent this whole weekend running on pure confused energy. Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in a way that makes Yoongi take another step back.

"I know. You two are terrible at hiding shit." Namjoon points his thumb over his shoulder, back at the house where he glances. From where he stands, he could see Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin peering out through the window. "I know my sister, and I know my best friend. You guys are adults, so, really, there's nothing I can do but watch it happen."

Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi flushes, cheeks heating. "But when I met her...you...you gave me a look."

"I was trying to ask if you wanted water!"

"That was not a 'do you want water' look, Joon."

Namjoon reaches over and pats his shoulder softly, hand lingering, "You have my blessing, if that's what you came to ask for." He smiles, eyes disappearing, but Yoongi's relief is cut short when he tries to shift away, Namjoon's grip tightening. "Though, she's still my little sister. I know where you live."

Yoongi chuckles, a little scared.

"Good talk." Namjoon nods to himself, "I'm going inside. Get out of the cold!"

Tagging: @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @doneimnida @here2bbtstrash

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growth-crazy-girl · 8 months

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Extreme Slime Expansion

Warning: Extreme Rapid Weight Gain Fantasy Scenario 😜

Ok I normally don’t do long form writing, but I wanted to put this somewhere lol. One of my biggest fantasies is myself being a slime girl with the ability to pump up humans with my slime. I’m not into NC so only if willing, but I’d wanna pump up a skinny girl hundreds and hundreds of pounds in a matter of minutes, and then some 🤤

I’d start by thickening her up all around, watching her skinny thighs fill out, her rear showing more definition, her breasts slowly becoming fuller and rounder, the rest of her body developing a layer of supple fat. My slime works as a biological imitator, so my cells instantly mutate to whatever host cells I want to replicate. In other words, her body is genuinely gaining all of this weight, and I can mold her in any way I want

First I’d concentrate my slime straight to her lower half. Rapidly her hips widen, her thighs thicken, her cheeks swell with pounds and pounds of fat and flesh, and her skin keeps up the pace, the volume and surface area of her ass increase exponentially. I push her up against the mirror so she can see how bottom heavy she’s becoming, going from “thick” to “bbw pear” to “cartoon mom” and beyond, dense fat packed into her hips and thighs and enormous cheeks

Next I’d focus on her belly, slime pumping into her pound after pound until her gut sprawls out before her, love handles turning into dense fat rolls, belly button swelling up on all sides and getting deep. I grab her hanging belly as it sags lower and jiggle it around. Still though it’s stuffed so full of fat and adipose that it extends out straight in front of her, and she moans feeling the vibrations jiggle through hundreds of pounds of new tissue across her body

Suddenly her boobs explode outward in size as I finally concentrate my full power on them, surging with glutted fat and newfound breast tissue. Rivers of slime can be heard forcibly gushing their way into the now ocean of titmeat. Of course I have to force a ton of slime into her nipples as well, swelling them up huge and hard, the size of an average girl’s dildo. Each boob rolls to the side of her gut, still riding as firm on her chest as possible at this size

As she blows through the entire alphabet of bra sizes and into the unknown, I can’t help but squeeze a few dozen collective pounds into fattening her fupa and entire vulva, giving her a wobbling, gravid pussy bigger than her head, and a clit bigger than a soup bowl

She must be, what, 600-700 pounds now? I can only imagine the mixture of fear and excitement she’d be feeling, knowing she let me make her as big as I wanted. Surely we must be done right? She can’t even see the mirror anymore! Little does she know we’re just getting started…

I broadened my slime flow to the rest of her body and begin pumping. Her only request was to maintain some semblance of mobility, and I planned to happily oblige.

Too much weight to carry? Slime poured into her muscles to beef them up, and she modifies her stance to accommodate the enormous amount of new muscle needed to keep her mountainous ass cheeks lofty and firm, to keep her legs from buckling under the sheer weight. Not enough structural integrity? Slime reinforces her bones, strengthens her joints and ligaments, adding even more fat and skin in the right places to maintain balance. Heart going to stop from pure insane obesity? The chambers of her heart suck up my slime like a sponge, becoming like biological steel. I’ll shape and mold her body in any way necessary to maintain every bodily function, maintain some human resemblance…. All so she can take more.

More fat. More slime. MORE.

I finally realize that she’s going to need more height and a larger frame overall or else the laws of physics will catch up with us, and so the massive pile of woman begins growing up as well as out in every direction.

Awww but now she’s not visibly getting much bigger! 20 pounds a second looks like nothing on her, and that’s no fun 😏 So I take a deep breath, enter her every remaining orifice, and make one final push

*GLUUUUUURGLRGLRGLRGLRG*

Her body sounds like a fire hydrant in reverse as hundreds of gallons of slime force there way into her mountainous form, instantly turning into flesh and bone and fat. Soooo much fat.

Finally I stop when I hit that magical number- 2000lbs. I can’t wait to tease her, “you literally weigh a ton, you’re literally as big as an elephant, it might take some getting used to, but you can walk waddle short distances!”

I stepped back to admire my handiwork. This gigantic blob of a once skinny woman had me drooling over her every roll and curve. I was particularly proud of her gargantuan ass cheeks that were each the size of a refrigerator, and yet miraculously didn’t touch the ground, instead perpetually wobbling and jiggling acting as a counterweight to the insane amount of flesh forced into her boobs, belly, and pussy.

“MMMMMMMMMM” I heard her moan as she tried to lean forward to rest on her boulder of a belly, “I’m soooooo hungryyyyyy”

I stood behind her, admiring that I could now see her enormous blubbery vulva, glistening and dripping as a testament to how horny and sensitive I’d made her

“Me too babe, me too 🥵🤤😋”

***Dont expect long form written content or stories from me like this in the future, this is a super rare occurrence 😜😜😜

#extreme weight gain #extreme obesity #slime girl #slime expansion #expansion #breast expansion #growth kink #gigantic breasts #butt expansion #massive ass #belly growth #instant weight gain #immobile #long form content #weight gain story

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bookshelf-in-progress · 5 months

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The Beggar's Door: A Retelling of "King Thrushbeard"

Oh, yes, King Gregor had a temper, but in this case, it was more than justified. You see, the king had gone through all the expense of hosting an enormous ball so every eligible suitor on the continent could vie for the hand of Princess Dulcibella, and what do you think she did? Not smile and curtsey and thank them for the honor, that’s for sure. She rejected every man to his face! And not politely! The princess had a tongue like a whip, and she scourged those high and mighty men with every insult you can imagine before declaring she would have none of them as a husband. Some of them were on the verge of declaring war.

So none of us were surprised when King Gregor, in a towering rage, summoned Princess Dulcibella to the throne room the next morning.

Princess Dulcibella was a beautiful maid—fair and willowy—and she walked toward her father with as dainty a step and as innocent an air as any woman who ever lived, humming a traveling minstrel’s tune.

“Daughter,” the king declared. “I have brought you here to meet your husband.”

The princess stopped humming. “Tradition states that a crown princess may choose her own husband.”

“Tradition also states that if the princess refuses all her suitors, she is wed to the first man to come into the king’s presence.”

Princess Dulcibella’s lovely face paled. “You would not be so barbaric.”

“You have left me no other choice.” The king pointed to the grand doors through which the princess had entered—the only entrance that had been left unbarred. “Your husband—the man of my choosing—will enter through that door at the stroke of ten.”

Everyone knew who that would be—Baldric of Eldria, a brute and bore (and, some said, a usurper), but king of the wealthiest nation on the continent.

At his words, a door opened—but not the great door.

In a shadowed corner of the throne room, a forgotten, barely visible door swung open on rusted hinges.

The king whirled upon his chamberlain. “I said all the doors were to be barred!”

The chamberlain was deathly pale. “Tradition states that the beggar’s door can never be barred.”

An old tradition, the beggar’s door, one that said the poor must be able to approach their king for help in desperate need, or else the kingdom would fall. No one had used the door in generations—but the door had remained open.

Through that door came a ragged young man, tattered shoes on his feet and a lute on his back. With a smile, he bowed to the princess, as graceful as any courtier.

“My king and my lady,” he said. “If you can spare a coin for a starving minstrel, I would be glad to repay your kindness with a song.”

He had charm, that ragged clown, and probably a nice face somewhere under the layer of dirt.

Princess Dulcibella smiled upon him—men had crossed continents for that smile—and, in the sight of a stunned crowd in the throne room, the minstrel began to sing.

O, come away, my fine young maiden Though I’ve no place to call my own We’ll wander through the wooded valleys And make the wild world our home

You know the song, but you’ve never heard it as he sang it. He had a voice like love itself come to life—as if he’d come a-purpose for wooing. We all were spellbound. The princess was enchanted.

He sang a verse or ten, and when the song finally faded, the king was the first to remember the purpose of the day. For all the unexpected happenings, he hadn’t forgotten his rage. He’d lost his chance at an alliance, but his revenge upon an ungrateful daughter was still within reach.

“Minstrel,” he declared. “You’ve won more than a coin. According to tradition, you have my daughter as bride to wed.”

The priest emerged from behind the throne—intended for a far more royal wedding. In the sight of us all, the princess and the beggar were bound as man and wife.

“Now, be gone from my house!” the king declared. “You’re a beggar’s wife, now, and can have no place here.”

Dulcibella was stripped of her finery, but somehow she didn’t seem to mind.

The minstrel took her in his arms and carried her out the beggar’s door—gazing upon each other with as much devotion as if they were any ordinary pair of lovers.

With that, they disappeared. I’ve not seen either of them again.

But I’ve heard stories.

Dulcibella was clever, you see, and her maids tell stories of a minstrel who would sing near her window on moonlit nights.

Some say she told him of the beggar’s door.

Some even say that the minstrel was no minstrel at all, but young King Alaric, cast down from the throne of Eldria, living in exile until he can reclaim his throne.

I don’t know what to believe, but I like to believe she’s happy as a beggar’s wife, and I believe there’s no better woman to someday take a place as queen.

King Baldric had better take care.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #king thrushbeard

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adrienneleclerc · 3 months

Note

Do you think you can do a Lewis Hamilton imagine

When Y/N is at a New Year's party because her friend dragged her along and she just got out of a really long relationship and Lewis is also there and he sees her across the room all sad and alone so he walks up behind her and grabs her shoulders turn her around and kisses her and walks away without saying nothing and she doesn't know Lewis is a driver and Lewis doesn't know that she's a famous photographer and they meet maybe a few years later or later month whatever you want to do and F1 gives her a job to be a photographer for them

Oh and I want a cute fluffy ending if you can do that thank you so much xoxo

Oh and can you make Y/N Mexican

As a Mexican myself, a Mexican Y/N should be easy to write, sorry it took me so long to write this. My wifi went out when I tried to save this. I don’t know if this is what you had in mind but I hope you like it!

Once Upon a Kiss

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Mexican!Reader

Summary: Famous photographer, Y/N L/N, and Formula 1 driver, Lewis Hamilton, kiss at a New Year’s Eve party without knowing anything about the other. Their paths cross once again when Y/N is hired as Ferrari’s new photographer.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: MY FIRST LEWIS HAMILTON FANFIC TO CELEBRATE HIS HOME RACE WIN!!! Also I do mention a stereotype where Puerto Rican men are trash

Y/N was in her apartment watching her favorite movie and eating ice cream in a Stitch onesie. She then heard the door open, her friend Ofelia entered the apartment with takeout.

“No, no, uh uh, there’s no way in hell you’re eating ice cream right now, I got us Chinese food.” Ofelia said.

“Great, put it on the counter,” Y/N mumbled.

“Why are you in a stitch onesie? It’s only 8pm.” Ofelia said.

“Because I wanted to. Did you get the chicken wings and pork fried rice plus my chicken broccoli and white rice?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, why do you need 2 orders?” Ofelia asked.

“One for today, the other for tomorrow, obviously.” Y/N said.

“Anyway, we have a party later tonight.” Ofelia said.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Y/N asked pointing between them.

“You and me, we’re getting super dressed up and going to a rooftop party.” Ofelia said.

“Who’s hosting?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, a friend of a friend of a friend.” Ofelia said,

“We’re going to a rooftop party in New York City in the middle of winter?” Y/N asked.

“They have those heating lamp thingies. Come on, it’ll be fun, take your mind off of Derek.” Ofelia said.

“Don’t mention Derek.” Y/N groaned, opening up her takeout container to start eating.

“You see, I haven’t to mention it because you can’t stop thinking about him.” Ofelia said.

“De que hablas? I haven’t thought about ese cabrón mal parido in a minute.” Y/N said. Ofelia silently counted down from 3. “The audacity ese hijo de su madre had to cheat on me.”

“I mean what did you expect, Y/N, he’s Puerto Rican.” Ofelia said.

“But we’ve been together for 8 years, I just don't undertsand what i did wrong." Y/N said.

“No, no, no, no, you did absolutely nothing wrong, guys like him only cvare about getting their dick wet, thats it. Anyway, eat and then get dressed. Actually shower first, outfit, hair, makeup, that party is gonna be amazing! Apparently the guy who’s hosting lives in a penthouse.” Ofelia said.

"Sounds fun." Y/N said.

"I've also been sending your portfolio to my bosses..." Ofelia started

"Lia, don't. I told you i was going to look for photography work myself." Y/N said.

"But everyone is DYING to work with you, imagine taking photos for Elle, Cosmo, Vanity Fair, they love your work." Ofelia said.

"What if I want to work somewhere else, outside of New York?" Y/N asked.

"I can live with that, just please don't go to Jersey." Ofelia said (sorry if you live in New Jersey, its just a very New York thing to shit on Jersey)

"Deal." Y/N said.

Hours later, Y/N was showered, hair was done, makeup was perfect, and the outfit was giving 90s supermodel, SHE was givng 90's supermodel. Ofelia was sitting on the couch when Y/N came out.

“Aahh, you look AMAZING, okay, lets go, I have the invitation and I’m so happy his building has parking.” Ofelia said.

Girls showed ID and invitation to the doorman and bouncer when entering the building and accessing the rooftop.

“Wow, this party looks lit.” Ofelia said.

“Yeah, it does. I wonder how they got the heat lamps up here.” Y/N said. Ofelia was looking around until she saw her friend.

“Oh my god, hey! I saw my friend from work, I’ll see you later, okay.” Ofelia said walking away

“You can’t just leave me here!” Y/N tried shouting but Ofelia wasn’t within hearing range. “Great.” While Y/N was just observing the party, keeping to herself, Lewis Hamilton was by the DJ booth, hyping up the party.

“Make some noise, NYC!” Lewis said and everyone cheered, but he saw a woman by herself who didn’t cheer at all. He thought she looked quite beautiful, even under the low light. “Hey man, I’ll be right back.”

“Alright, I’m gonna start the countdown in a few.” His DJ friend said. Lewis nodded, dapping up the DJ before getting down from the stand to look for the woman he spotted. It took a while for Lewis to find her since she was moving too, looking for her friend, but she eventually stopped at the table where there were chips and drinks. The DJ started counting down to midnight, Lewis was standing near Y/N but didn’t make a move.

“Happy New Year!” Everyone shouted, Lewis turned Y/N and kissed her, walking away after they pulled away. Y/N stared at him when we walked away, he looked so familiar. Y/N felt someone else grab her shoulders.

“Y/N, you got a New Years kiss, from who?” Ofelia asked.

“I have no idea, but he was a good kisser, I’ll tell you that much.” Y/N said,

6 weeks later, Y/N was on her computer reviewing her emails and she screamed. Ofelia came running out with a baseball bat.

“What happened? Is it the rat again?” Ofelia asked

“What? No, I got an email from Scuderia Ferrari.” Y/N said.

“The Formula 1 team? You don’t even watch the sport, why the hell did you apply?” Ofelia asked.

“Well i have always wanted to travel, apparently F1 drivers travel ALL THE TIME, this is in Maranello, Italy, I always wanted to go…” Y/N said,

“You don’t speak Italian.” Ofelia said,

“I’m learning, chingada madre, will you let me finish?” Y/N asked. Ofelia nodded her head. “Anyway, Scuderia Ferrari are looking for a new photographer, I’ve seen the posts they made on Instagram, my photography style is very similar, I’m sure the person in charge wouldn’t want the Instagram page to lose the ‘essence’ of Ferrari so looks like I’m their new photographer. Ah, I am so excited! I start in a few weeks, they have emailed me my plane ticket for the following week, even temporary housing until I can get a proper place and a company car (unrealistic but it seems nice).”

“Wow, the people at Ferrari are very generous. I’ll help you pack.” Ofelia said.

2 weeks later, Y/N arrived at the Italian airport, was greeted by a Ferrari employee, and was taken to her furnished apartment. Y/N called Ofelia and showed her the view and everything. Y/N hung up, got her camera, and walked outside her apartment for a little while to take pictures of everything until she got a call from her boss.

“Hey Mr. Vasseur, how are you?” Y/N asked.

“I’m doing well, have you settled in?” Fred asked.

“I have, thank you for asking. To what do I owe your call?” Y/N asked.

“My drivers landed in Maranello today, do you think you can come to headquarters tomorrow?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, you bet, see you then.” Y/N said.

The next day, Y/N was entering the Scuderia Ferrari Base in jeans, white button up blouse, sneakers, and a Ferrari cap because of the sun. She was greeted by Fred.

“Y/N, so nice to meet you in person, how was the drive?” Fred asked.

“Very good, thank you so much for the car. What am I supposed to take pictures of?” Y/N asked.

“Well Hamilton and Leclerc are training on the sim because we have the Australian Grand Prix in 2 weeks. Come, I’ll introduce you to them.” Fred said, leading Y/N to the training room where they have the racing simulator.

“Ha, I beat your time!” Lewis said.

“Yeah, it won’t happen again, mate.” Charles said. Fred then cleared his throat, causing the drivers to stand up.

“Gentleman, this is…” Fred started

“No way, you’re Y/N L/N, I bought some of your photos from a New York gallery, you’re very talented.” Charles said, shaking her hand.

“Oh thank you so much, I was wondering who paid so much money for my photos.” Y/N chuckled, she turned to look at Lewis, they stared at each other until Y/N held out her hand for Lewis to take it. “Okay so do whatever it is that you were doing to I can take some photos. So go on the simulator, talk, do whatever.”

“What kind of photographer are you?” Lewis asked.

“Well, i Don’t specialize in anything if that’s what you’re asking. I have taken landscape photos, I’ve been a photographer on a vogue photo shoot, taken runway photos, even photos of animals. So I’m an…everything photographer.” Y/N said. “Again, do whatever is natural, im sure your fans will love to see you guys bonding now that you’re teammates.”

Y/N took photos of them talking, being on the sim, even some of them just walking around the Ferrari base.

“Okay so I think I got some pretty good shots, you can check it out before I show Fred.” Y/N said. She connected her camera to her laptop so the drivers could see the photos better.

“These are really good, Charles was right, you’re very talented.” Lewis said.

“Why thank you. What about you, charles? Are my photos to your liking?” Y/N asked.

“Yes they are, I never doubted it.” Charles said. Charles left Lewis and Y/N alone so he could change out of his Ferrari clothes.

“You recognize me, don’t you?” Lewis asked.

“How could I forget the man who gave me a new years kiss. I thought I’d never see you again, kinda made it up in my head that you were a secret agent or something.” Y/N said, Lewis laughed.

“Sadly no, I’m just a formula 1 driver. I’m surprised you didn’t know who I was at the party since it was my party.” Lewis said.

“You were the host my friend was talking about! The one with the penthouse, no fucking way. Also, Mr. Billion Dollar Man, you didn’t recognize me either, you were the one who kissed me, meaning you spotted me first, prior to our kiss, and charles knew who I was right away.” Y/N said,

“True. But why were you by yourself? You looked sad, did something happen?” Lewis asked.

“Well my boyfriend of 8 years cheated on me, my friend dragged me to a party and then went off to see the friend who invited her, so yeah, that’s what happened.” Y/N said.

“Who could possibly cheat on you? You seem so sweet” Lewis said.

“Thank you, but you Don’t know me.” Y/N said.

“How about we change that. You want to go out for lunch?” Lewis asked.

“I would love to.” Y/N said.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mexican #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic

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ioniansunsets · 10 months

Note

heartsteel christmas dinner 👉👈 who brings what? i can picture Sett staying in the kitchen to prepare ham/turkey 🥰🥰

✖ Heartsteel Celebrating Christmas with You ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.1k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: You host a Xmas party with your partner uwu (posting this early so maybe if you guys like this I’ll write another quick one for the afterparty and gift opening?)

----

Sett was the best person to celebrate with. Mama taught him well, he was there early in the morning, hells, he stayed over the night before. Up before the sun even rose, the two of you spent time lovingly together in the kitchen. Waking up early with Sett kissing the tip of your nose and carrying you to the toilet to freshen up. Trying to keep you awake as he holds your hand and leads you to the kitchen right after. Cooking up a mad delicious Christmas dinner, baking cookies and frosting them together, laughing as he held you close, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, giggling together as frosting gets on his nose and his ears twitch in frustration. It was cold out, but with the oven heated up, his arms around your body and the two of you in sweaters Sett’s mom knitted. Maybe winter was even warmer than summer sometimes.

Kayn was a surprisingly thoughtful guy. He knows he can’t cook, he knows he can’t do any cute little handicrafts, he knows his limits. So he does what he does best, help out however he can. Sneaking into stores and buy whatever things you need last minute. Almost a challenge to him finding somewhere selling Christmas Cake and Turkey the day of and somehow still making it to the party early. Staying by your side and trying his best to do exactly as he’s told, you need dishes washed? Its your Christmas gift today, he’s on it. You need someone to decorate the tree? Easy, Rhaast is a surprisingly good at hanging ornaments on trees. You need motivation? Kayn has it covered. A cheeky smile, a soft kiss, loving words of support. He is there. (Hide the presents though, the one thing he doesn’t have is too much self control, Rhaast wants to know, Rhaast has to know, Rhaast found his gift hidden in the locked closet-)

K'Sante straight up tells you to take it easy today. He has friends and connections. You two have a private reservation to the best dinner spot at the roof of an expensive hotel. Sure having a Christmas party at home is sweet and humble but you’re his precious lover! And there was other opportunities to enjoy a warm homely holiday dinner together after you two get married. He was making sure you enjoyed all the glitz and glamor now, friends and family around the two of you, soft music playing in the background as the hotel staff handle all the food and drinks. He holds you close as the two of you overlook the city, lights sparkling both in the stars of the sky and across the ground as the lights in buildings, it was a sight to behold only emphasized by the soft kisses on the back of your neck and the warm hand wrapped around you.

Ezreal was known for holding the wildest of parties, everyone he knows was invited. So nothing was new when he said he would plan things, you just needed to show up and love him. It was a trademark Ezreal party alright. The largest and brightest tree you’ve ever seen set up by the fireplace, a potluck filled with all sorts of dishes from all his friends, decorations strewn across the room and gifts piled up so high in a corner it was almost its own tree, music so loud you heard it before you even stepped in. And when you did step in, eyes meeting his, he immediately blinks to your side, throwing himself at you in the tightest hug he’s given you in a while. A bright smile and a sparkle in his eyes before his lips meet yours, still almost embarrassing to be loved so brightly in front of everyone but at the same time so endearing to know how much he loves you to show you off like this. As everyone else talks loudly all around you, Ezreal sits by your side, one hand firmly clasped in yours under the table as he eats with the other.

Yone was more of a, “ I just want to spend time alone with you this weekend.” kind of guy. Something sweet and different about going out with him on a Christmas date, laughing together as you two go to ice skate (he tries and is graceful most of the time but when he trips and stumbles it is so cute), hands in yours as you two walk around in the evening, enjoying the lights as other sickly sweet couples walk past you. As the night comes and the air gets colder, he would hold you close, wrapping a scarf around you, hands wrapped around yours as he drives you to a dinner reservation in the heart of the city. Nothing too expensive but nothing to cheap either, it was a nice restaurant that he has brought you many times before, just that tonight there was a Christmas special menu, cute decor seen throughout the establishment as you two walk in. There was really just something nice about spending the whole day alone with each other for company. Maybe he was just old or sentimental, but he wouldn’t trade all this for anything.

Aphelios wants to be alone with you but at the same time, he loves his sister and band. So as a compromise, you two celebrate with Heartsteel at night but spend the morning in each others arms as he stays over the night before. Cold weather meant that snuggling up together as you wake up late, soft smiles and softer kisses in the warmth of the bed. Lazy mornings as Aphelios slowly gets up to get the two of you breakfast. With hot chocolate in one hand and some cute pastries in the other, soft music playing in the background, and your partner laying lovingly on your shoulder, this was truly the epitome of winter romance. Getting dressed together, adjusting each other’s hair and outfits, excitedly walking out of your place back to Heartsteel dorms to spend time with his family (both blood and non-blood related). Sure it was noisy with the other boys around, but when you two quietly sit on the couch, Aphelios could secretly admire you as your eyes light up, talking and interacting with everyone important to him. There was a soft of comforting silence enveloping his daydreams around you.

#Anon Answer #Shieda Kayn #Ezreal #K'Sante #Sett #Yone #Aphelios #Heartsteel x Reader #Heartsteel Kayn x Reader #Heartsteel Ezreal x Reader #Heartsteel K'Sante x Redaer #Heartsteel Aphelios x Reader #Heartsteel Yone x Reader #Heartsteel #DRABBLE #Merry Christmas with League Boys #i hope its not too weird lmfao i dont actually celebrate christmas past exchanging gifts sometimes HAHAHSODHAOD

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aurossaga · 23 days

Text

Doubts cloud my Judgement

Venti x gn!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word count: ~ 1.5k

Warnings: Alcohol mention

Summary: Learning to be vulnerable is no small task, even if it's for the ones you love.

The winds whip to and fro in the night, the steady rustle of the leaves quietly dulling the city’s noise. It was almost as if the air itself was feeling agitated, restless, almost anxious, and knew no other way to handle it but to tug and pull at the branches of trees, to wear at the city walls.

You were surprised when you stepped out onto the tavern’s balcony yourself. The winds in the city were always gentle in the past... Though, that thought did not occupy your mind for very long. You only adjusted your clothing in place, bracing yourself against the moderate winds as you looked around yourself… You were sure you’d seen the life of the party back downstairs disappear though this door earlier, and his absence was feeding a growing unease within you. Of course, it wasn’t very surprising that he’d managed to slip through your grasp yet again, he seemed to have a talent for that.

You have known Venti for quite some time now. A chance meeting in the plaza quickly grew into a well-maintained friendship, and you had fallen for him hard somewhere along those months you’d spent drifting in and out of each other’s lives. You know so much about him, all the way from his preferences in drinks to mindless thoughts on meaningless matters that reveal themselves in casual conversations… And the more you learnt about him, the more sure you were that you didn’t know the bard at all.

Venti doesn’t strike anyone as the type of guy to keep anyone at a distance like that, and at first, you were willing to believe so too. But the better you got to know him, the more he withdrew. The better you got at finishing his sentences, the less he started them at all. He’d smile, nod, encourage you to talk instead, keeping his cards close to this chest and his heart tucked away for reasons you couldn’t comprehend. That ends tonight, you decided. Weeks of this unexplained distance was starting to bother you.

Your eyes traced the steady-looking vines climbing the walls of the tavern’s exterior. Your brows furrowed as the insanity of the idea crossed your mind. You didn’t exactly have any other means of ascending the building, and if you knew that bard even half as well as you think you do, he’s sure to be up there on the roof. Still, you could fall. And it would hurt.

…

Yeah, like that was actually going to stop you.

You braced yourself as you grabbed onto the vines with your hands, and slowly hosted yourself up just a few feet from the ground to test the waters. When you found that the vines held your weight remarkably well, you started pulling yourself up, grabbing hold and steadily climbing the building. With a huff you were able to pull yourself up onto the roof, the familiar sight of terracotta tiles filling your view… And sat in the middle of the slanted roof was Venti, with his back turned to you, uncharacteristically absentminded. The sound of your steps didn’t register until you’re right by his side, at which point he jumped slightly, the reaction so small you could see how anyone else might have missed it.

“O-oh, Hello, friend! In need of some fresh air too, I presume?”

There was something about his tone that felt so…unsure. Like even he wasn’t buying his own guise anymore. And yet, he tried foolishly to keep it up, knowing very well it wasn’t getting by either of you. Curious.

“...Yeah. Do you mind if I sit for a bit?”

You decided to entertain it for a moment in an attempt at disarming the suddenly tense atmosphere. Venti’s shoulders sank in resignation as he realized this night could end one of two ways… And he wasn’t quite sure which outcome he feared more. Letting you in or shutting you out for good.

“Not at all.”

You sat down next to him, giving him a bit of space just for comfort’s sake. Venti noted your distance with a curious hum, his gaze finally rising from the red roof tiles to look in your direction. He held your gaze for only a moment before he averted his eyes again, clearing his throat nervously. The winds tug at your clothes as gusts crash against you.

“...Venti-”

“I don’t-”

You both spoke at the same time, cutting each other off. In any other situation you would have had a laugh at that… But tonight, not as much as an amused snicker, even.

“How did things get so weird between us, Venti?”

Your unsteady voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the gales. You looked down at your trembling hands, unsure if it was the nerves or the cold that had gotten to you. You didn’t get much time to ponder it before the bard next to you let out a huff, scooted closer and placed his hand over your trembling ones.

“Everything’s fine, my friend. Everything’s alright.”

His tone wasn’t one bit convincing as he flashed you a smile you didn’t believe for a second.

“Please. Just… give me an actual answer.”

His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly as he tensed up. You could feel the way his breath hitched on the winds, the way they shifted directions for a moment. His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered his next words very carefully, trying and failing several times over to find a way out of this confrontation. But, there was none.

“You know me so well it scares me.”

You weren’t expecting that. A part of you had worried he had figured out your feelings, and was looking for a way out of the friendship. Another was growing concerned he simply got bored of you. You… Did not expect to learn just how frightened he was by your shared bond.

“...Wait, what do you-”

His grip on your hand fastened ever so slightly, and caused you to hesitate. Your eyes drifted up to his figure, hunched over himself as he looked anywhere but right at you. A brief flash of panic crossed his pensive expression as you untangled your hand from his, but was quickly pacified as you reached up and brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes. Finally, he looked at you properly.

“Venti, my dear… Can I ask you a question?”

You pleaded with a disarming smile.

“Y-yeah, of course.”

Venti stammered, his usual effortless confidence completely discarded. It was as if he realized trying to salvage that image was like fighting a losing battle.

“... What is it you’re scared of showing me?”

He went silent after that, his eyes narrowed as his nose scrunched up into a thoughtful expression. He had been mulling over that question many times the past few weeks, but he never found a satisfactory answer. He had spent many nights awake trying to determine what it was about you that he had suddenly grown so fearful of, enough to outweigh the joy he felt in your company. And only now as he stared into your endlessly patient eyes did he realize what it was. Venti didn’t give you a verbal answer, no… He did something you weren’t quite expecting. He pinched his eyes shut with a sigh, and dropped his head onto your shoulder.

You had never seen him be this vulnerable before. His boisterous persona and endless charm often gave people a very different idea of who he was, and you had long ago figured out the man beneath the surface was much softer, much more delicate than he’d ever intended to show you. Still, this was a shot in the dark for him. You could tell how tense he was, his shoulders rigid, his expression strained, his hands fidgeting with the frilly hems of his sleeves… He was so painfully uncomfortable with this expression of vulnerability, and yet he was trying.

You didn’t waste another second before you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a firm, loving hug. You heard him gasp slightly as his eyes blew wide, but he didn’t fight it. You huffed in relief, your hands slowly rubbing comforting patterns into the tense muscles on his back. The familiar scent of fresh breeze and cecilias that always seem to cling to him filled your nostrils as you embraced him tightly. It took him a few seconds to even register what was happening, almost in disbelief at the course of this wordless conversation.

Slowly, with an uncertainty that was utterly unfamiliar to him, Venti embraced you back. His grip was weak at first, but then he suddenly squeezed you close as if you’d disappear if he let go. His shallow breaths trembled as he fought to keep his composure.

“You deserve to be cared about, Venti. Please… let me. Don’t push me away.”

Your own voice quivered as emotions started running high. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that had you at the brink of tears, but holding back the sobs only got harder and harder… Until you heard Venti sigh. And you felt tears on your shoulder. So you gave in trying to hold back too.

The winds around you calmed as the dawn broke on the horizon, the two of you desperately clinging onto each other all the while. Things would be different from now on, but Venti’s heart already felt light with relief after that night.

Hey everyone! It's been a minute since my last post... oops!

My point is though I love this guy to death and don't plan to stop writing for him altogether, I'm taking a bit of a Genshin break! I've been running out of inspiration for Venti fics and mostly just rotate him around in my head for hours on end haha

So! You can expect some stuff from other fandoms going forward. I'll make a pinned post about that once I've gotten everything sorted. There will be more Venti fics again in the future though, so don't be discouraged!

Thank you for reading as always! :3

#venti x reader #venti #genshin venti x reader #venti x y/n #venti genshin impact #venti x gn!reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti

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pacifymebby · 1 year

Note

Hi! i love your blog sm! i was wondering if i could request a peaky blinders preference for how they would react if they were at a party and an enemy had their s/o’s drink spiked as a way to distract them so they could attack the peaky boys? i hope this makes sense haha Tysm !

Hi lovely thank u so much for the request, i am so sorry that youve waited so long for me to finish this!!! I loved the idea and u gave me so much to work with!! I hope its everything u wanted it to be hehe.

Warnings: spiking of drinks, violence tv level) also describe the feeling of being spiked during Bonnies which could be upsetting for some.

Tommy

🌿 He'd been on edge all evening, he didn't really want to show his face tonight anyway, one of those fancy parties he knew he had to host every now and then to remain a prominent, influencial member of high society...

🌿 But these evenings are always ruined by the other guests... If he had to put a figure on it he'd say he despises about 90% of the rooms population and if it wasn't for you dancing with him and acompanying him all evening he's not sure he wouldn't have shouted that to the whole fucking room...

🌿All in all he wasn't in the mood for a party, let alone the trouble that he could sense brewing, this darkness bubbling away under the surface... He could tell something wasn't quite right, he had that warning bell ringing in his head and everyone who entered the grand ballroom, Tommy counted them, assessed them, studied them for any tells...

🌿Tommy saw exactly what they did, saw your drink get spiked... But this is Tommy Shelby we're talking about, the man never misses a trick

🌿And when he saw that young lad slip something into your drink he knew exactly what it was for... He knew that they were only trying to distract him from the bigger picture

🌿And what better way to navigate the trouble than to let them believe that they had...

🌿So he swaps your drink, accidentally knocking the spiked drink over, along with several others, smiling and laughing it off, apologising, keeps the mood light all hands in the air like "never mind eh just a few spilt drinks"

🌿Then when he rejoins you and gives you your drink he wraps his arms around you and hugs you close, rocking you side to side gently, slow dancing with you. Giving you instructions.

🌿"Need you do somet for me angel," he says, "Don't worry it won't be difficult... Need you to pass out for me yeah, just go limp in my arms as if someones put somet in your drink and its hit you all at once... Not right now yeah, just... Sip your drink - its safe I promise - just sip your drink and dance with me now eh and then, when I go over there and start talking with John, you go talk to Pol or me sister and you tell em you don't feel so good, let them take you out for some air and then you do it alright? But make sure you're somewhere safe away from all this for me... "

🌿You're a little worried, "but why Tommy whats going on?" "Never you mind about any of that eh, you just do this one thing for me eh sweetheart, I'll take care of everything else..."

🌿So you do as he tells you and you go outside with Ada and Polly doing your best to act a little faint a little frail. And to you delight you convince them so that when you pass out in Pollys arms a woman nearby screams and Ada goes running inside to tell Tommy...

🌿And as the chaos errupts and the party falls into dissaray, the fighting breaking out between the Peakys and the rival gang Tommy is safe in the knowledge that youre alright, that youre outside away from it all, safe and sound. So he can concentrate on wiping out the bastards who tried to hurt his angel, tried to use you as a cog in their nasty plan.

🌿He's so proud of you! When the fights over and he's sure there are no more threats he comes to find you, Ada has laid you down on the bench in the garden and covered you with her jacket and when Tommy sees you he smirks, chuckling softly.

🌿He gives you a little applause, "Bravo love, bravo," he says sitting down and helping you up, his proud grin painting a bright smile on your lips.

🌿Ada and Polly being confused until the penny drops and they realise that they've been dragged into one of Tommys plans. Theyre furious that he tricked them like that but Tommy isnt paying any attention to the lecture Polly is giving him. He's just looking at you.

🌿"You should be on the stage angel, when I saw you for a second there you had me worried..." "Don't be daft," you smile shyly, leaning into him as he puts his arms around you and hugs you, kissing your temple, looking out at the garden with serious eyes.

🌿"Sorry I had to drag you into all that love, won't happen again..." but you both know it probably will and he knows now that he can rely on you to be quite the little actress whenever he needs you.

🌿"Glad I've got such a clever girl eh angel..."

Alfie

🐻 Fuckin hates parties, doesnt see why it cant just be you and him having a drink ans a dance cosy at home but then again, he's old, maybe you youngens still like a party... Mind you, he remembers being young (he ain't that old!) he wasn't much for parties then either...

🐻 But he can't insult Tommy Shelby by refusing his invitation and he takes a little joy from knowing that his old pal Tommy hates parties just as much, that at least at this party he'll get to do is two favourite things: dancing with his zieskiet and seeing Tommy Shelby pissed off.

🐻 So the two of you go to the party and he tries to keep his grumbling to a minimum, charming you with all his usual tricks, dancing with you and enjoying the jealous looks from all the other men in the room. He's certain that you must be the most beautiful woman any of these men have ever set eyes on and he loves knowing that you're all his. Loves being able to show you off subtly.

🐻 He dances with you and brings you drinks, he holds your hand at every opportunity, being extra possesive over you, he doesnt leave your side all even...

🐻 So when it happens he's shocked... Because how could it have happened? How could anyone have put anything in your drink without him noticing?

🐻 He's so shocked but this is Alfie and he knows he needs to keep it together, remain calm, remain unsettlingly calm. So he turns slowly with you still in his arms and he searches the room for Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Because this is Tommys fuckin party so its Tommys fuckin fault and Alfie isn't daft, he knows that this... Whats happened to you, your limp, seemingly lifeless body, is probably only the first step in someone elses plan.

🐻The thought flickers across his mind, perhaps this is part of Tommys plans, perhaps its Tommy himself who has done this to you, betraying Alfie - it wouldn't be the first time the old friends have betrayed eachother... But no, that would be too obvious and besides... Tommy has a little class, for a "gypsy" anyway...

🐻 So instead of threatening everyone in the room instead of firing his gun, putting a bullet through someones - anyones - head you know, just to relieve his frustration, just to calm his panic... instead of losing his mind he remains calm, walks purposefully up to Tommy and starts talking over the younger man completely ignoring Tommys company.

🐻 This is tommys fuckin party so its tommys fuckin problem and Alfie has already decided that whatever happens next he won't be sticking around to help his old friend.

🐻 "Alright Tommy my old pal alright have a nice night yeah cause me and my girl are goin now... I know I know we've not exactly stayed very long but you know how I feel about these fancy do's dont you... Fuckin can't abide em yeah... And anyway as you can see... As you can see right my girls taken a turn hasn't she, had a funny turn, passed out cold in my arms just now yeah like she'd just gone and fuckin died or somet..." he's getting theatrical now, those who were with Tommy are watching Alfie fearfully, they've heard about him, they know he can turn at any second and he sure as hell looks like he might be about to snap now.

🐻 "We were just dancing together just now, over there yeah by that big fuckin ugly tree someone seems to have just fuckin dragged in out the garden? What is that anyway a fuckin big ugly tree? You wanna fire whoever put that ugly thing there..."

🐻 Tommy is looking at Alfie and looking at you, putting the pieces together, trying to think quicker than Alfie is talking but its always difficult to stay one step ahead of Solomons when he starts on these rants.

🐻 "Anyway I digress I digress, fuckin ugly plant or not, it would appear that somehow, in your fine home... Yeah and that words important right cause as the man of my own house myself yeah, I like to keep my home nice and safe eh, a fortress if you will... Anyway, me and my girl we were just fuckin dancin right, she was just fuckin dancing, having a nice fuckin evenin and then, poof..." he lets his voice soften, making a little gesture with his fingers like hes snuffing out a candle, "its like she's fuckin died or something aint it... Look at her yeah, don't you agree... Fuckin lifeless mate thats what she is..."

🐻 "Alfie whatevers happened I promise you we'll..."

🐻 "Fuckin fix it? That what you're gonna do yeah?" Alfie cutting him off, trying not to lose his temper, nows not the time to start a fight, nows the time to get you home safe and sound.

🐻 "Well, you can enjoy the rest of your evening eh, gather all your gypsy boys up yeah, put your little thinkin caps on eh and fuckin fix whatever shit you've gotten yourself caught up in this time... But me an my girl yeah, we're going home now alright mate, cause I reckon when she wakes up yeah shes gonna have a pretty nasty headache, and the last thing I'd want for her now is for her to have to come round to the sight of your fuckin crooked mug... Mate."

🐻 Alfie would be suspicious of everyone, even Tommy who he has mostly ruled out.

🐻 As he's carrying you out to the car, calling for Ollie to bring the motor round, its Alfie who starts the fight, firing his gun once into the crowd, wounding one of tommys men with a bullet in the foot. He chuckles as he hears the cry of pain, hears the victim fall to the floor just as heavily as you had fallen.

🐻 His real priority however is you, now that he's let tommy shelby know theres bad blood between them, now that hes started a fight and left the party tumbling into chaos, all out warfare, all Alfie cares about is getting you home.

🐻 He sits in the back of the car with you cradled to his chest, bundled up in his arms like a baby. He'd be talking to you soothingly, stroking your hair, not sure whether you can hear him or not. Wanting to make sure that whatevers happening to you you know your alfies with you, you know not to be scared.

🐻Grumbling and snapping at poor Ollie because hes driving too slowly and then because hes driving too dangerously and you're getting jostled about in the back.

🐻 He doesnt trust hospitals and doctors but he begrudgingly takes you into one and sits with you all night, getting snappy and snippy with the doctors who he doesnt think are doing enough.

🐻 He is so relieved when you finally come round the next morning, he's not slept, not eaten, hes just sat holding you, even when his sciatica was playing up and he was in pain from sitting holding you like that for too long.

🐻 He is nothing but soft and tender with you all day, runs you a bath to help sooth your aching muscles, fussing over you and grumbling at anyone who dares disturb the two of you. Poor Ollie gets an earful when he tries to inform Alfie that Tommy Shelby phoned.

🐻 He feels so guilty that this happened to you on his watch, he doesnt say it to you outright, that he blames himself, but he does make you promises over and over again that when he finds out what happened, who did that to you, he'll be paying them a visit...

🐻 He was really scared for you, really scared that he was going to lose you, really scared that you might not wake up, that he might not get to dance with you or kiss you or see your pretty eyes awake and alive ever again and so for that reason he stays close to you for some time after that night, always holding you, always touching you. He kisses you every chance he gets. Even wants you to come into his office with him so that he can keep you close, sitting in his lap whilst he works.

🐻 "Next time Tommy Shelby invites us to one of his fancy little parties zieskiet, next time he sends us one of those fuckin little invites... Lets not bother yeah, lets stay home just me and you, can do all the dancin we like right here yeah poppet, can have all the fun we like right fuckin here yeah..."

Arthur

🍂 You and Arthur always go too far at these parties his brother hosts. Tommys out there trying to make contacts, trying to lobby and charm politicians and the nations elite, meanwhile you and Arthur are racing one another to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey you've nicked from the kitchens, getting silly and letting your hair down...

🍂 And you're already drunk, both of you are really really drunk!

🍂 So when you start acting like you've overstepped that hard to predict line into "one too many" territory, Arthur assumes that thats all it is. You've had one too many, surpassed your limit and now you're struggling to stand up or walk, leaning on him for balance.

🍂 When you tell him you feel a little sick he chuckles and teases you all, "Aye my love I'm not fuckin surprised eh, when you gonna learn eh sweetheart, you can't keep up with us big boys..."

🍂 But when you collapse in his arms he freezes. The smile wiped clean off his face because suddenly he understands whats happened. You aren't just a little drunk. Something far more sinister has happened.

🍂 And of course he's terrified, pretty much convinced that youre already dead... Your body is so limp, lifeless, your head fallen back, youe eyes closed. You look so fragile, so delicate, like a feather and yet suddenly he can feel the weight of your whole body and you feel so, so real, so heavy...

🍂 He's fucking terrified.

🍂But Arthur Shelby doesn't do "terrified" he has one emotional switch and thats rage. If hes heartbroken he gets angry, if he's bitter he gets angry, if hes scared, well, he gets fucking angry and thats what happens next.

🍂 He fires his gun up at the cieling, the bullet shattering the glass in the chandelier above you so that shards rain down on the now petrified crowd. The party disintergratea, the atmosphere shattered as the band stops playing and, beyond the crying of a terrified bystander, the scuffle of panicked men, the room falls silent, all eyes on him.

🍂 He's livid, his mind already hazing with rage so that he can barely think, he's breathing heavily, shallow ragged breaths.

🍂 "Right!" he shouts into the crowd, "One of yous has fuckin hurt my fuckin wife and no one leaves this fuckin room until I find out which fucker done it... By order of the peaky fuckin blinders!"

🍂 And of course, no one argues with him.

🍂 Tommy pushes his way through the crowd to his brother, tries to reason with him, one hand on Arthurs shoulder as he tells him whats happening, explains the situation...

🍂 "You need to let her go brother, give her to Polly eh, go on brother, let Polly take her now..." Tommys trying to reason with him but Arthur doesnt want to let you go. The only reason he gives in in the end is because Tommy tells him he knows whos responsible for whats happened.

🍂 When Tommy points out the men who have spiked your drink Arthur doesnt question him, doesn't ask how he knows, instead he loses the last of his control, instead he startes trembling with the adrenaline rush, the rage, the hatred burning in his veins, his mind white and blank, tunnel visioning towards destruction.

🍂 He goes feral, launching himself at the men who are responsible, horror movie scenes ensuing as Tommy and the Peakys all go to battle, cutting men left right and center. Arthur is the most blood thirsty however, driven by the image of your lifeless body, driven by the terror he feels in his tight chest every time he pictures your lifeless expression.

🍂 He can't be stopped and he beats and cuts those men until they're unrecognisable. He has to be dragged back from the smashes in head of one of them, covered in their blood and his.

🍂 He can't calm down, he's practically rabid with his own violence, his eyes dark and changed by his anger.

🍂 But when you come round hours later, when you enter the ballroom where Arthur is still smashing things, still throwing furniture and breaking glasses, doing himself damage, when you call out to him he hears you and he turns to look at you. All the energy draining from him, all the adrenaline leaving him panting and exhausted, just gazing at you in disbelief.

🍂 And then hes just a shameful guilty stream of apologies, hes sorry he let it happen to you, hes sorry you have to see him like that, hes sorry he's too bloody and disgusting to hold you, he's sorry hes ruined your beautiful dress, he's sorry he went too far again, hes sorry he wasn't there when you woke up, he's sorry he couldn't be more help...

🍂 The only way you can cut him off is with your hand over his mouth, looking deep into his eyes, combing your fingers through his hair and his beard and pressing your lips to his cheeks, to his forehead and nose and jaw and anywhere else you possibly can.

🍂 "S'alright Arthur m'love im alright I'm here and its all alright and you fuckin got em didn't you, fuckin saved me didnt you, love you so much Arthur, don't apologise for anything please love, I'm so grateful I'm your girl..." you whispering all these sweet things to him until he's sure he's going to cry, your eyes and his eyes watering.

🍂 You cleaning him up afterwards and then climbing into the bath with him. Probably fucking in the water nice and slow and gentle to use up the last of his adrenaline and sooth him the best way you know how...

John

🌼 Similar to Arthur, John just thinks you can't hold your drink. You're so much smaller than him but you always forget that when you're drinking, you've been on the gin with Pol and Ada and you haven't exactly been taking your time....

🌼 He thinks you're so funny when you're drunk, thinks youre so cute too, the way you lose yourself half way through a sentence trailing off sleepily. The way you have to lean on him, wrapping your arms around his waist and closing your eyes as if you're about to fall asleep against him.

🌼 And when you do fall asleep against him he just chuckles, "whatre y'like eh flower," he says shaking his head and kissing your cheek as he lifts you up and carries you to the edge of the dancefloor, making a bed for you out of dinner chairs, lining them up in a row and laying you down on them with the little ones who have already gone to sleep on similar makeshift beds.

🌼 He shrugs his jacket off and uses it as a cover for you draping it over your shoulders carefully, crouching down and kissing your cheek, taking a moment to admire your peaceful features. You're so pretty, he's so lucky... All the while never noticing that somethings wrong. Never noticing anything at all until its too late.

🌼 The men who spiked your drink had been expecting some kind of reaction, a ruckus of sorts, a ripple of panic which would start with you and spread through the party like a wave...

🌼 But nothing happens and they're left confused and growing ever more tense waiting to pull their move, knowing that their window of opportunity is running out fast

🌼 And in the end they have to abandon their plan because all is calm and everyone js still having a good night. John is laughing with his brothers and you, well, you appear to be sleeping peacefully with the children...

🌼 So they have to start a new commotion, one of the men taking out a knife and threatening some random politicians wife so that one by one the peaky men are dragged into a fight.

🌼 John doesn't make any connections between the commotion and whats happened to you, as far as he's concerned youre still sleeping... That is until he grabs one of these trouble makers by the collar of his shirt and the cheeky fucker licks his teeth in a grin.

🌼 "Wheres your girlfriend Shelby? Hope shes alright, would be a shame if something were to..." and just like that the penny drops and although john had only intended to wound the stupid bastard, when he realises what the man is alluding to he shoves him up against the wall and pulls his gun on him, shooting the nasty git right between the eyes.

🌼 He's feeling murderous then, no longer enjoying the fight as a bit of friendly sport. But before he can take revenge he rushes to find Pol and instructs her to take care of you, to get you to a doctor as quickly as she can.

🌼 He's worried about you, obviously, but he's also really beating himself up for being so stupid as to not realise that there was anything wrong with you. He takes that frustration out in the fight however, channeling all his anger and fear and upset into beating the living daylights out of his enemies.

🌼 He's anxious to get to you however and the moment he scans the room and sees that his brothers and the lads have everything under control he leaves to find Polly, to find you.

🌼 He irritates the hell out of Ada and Polly who are trying to attend to you whilst they wait for the doctor, because Johns not the most delicate or precise at the best of times and when hes all worked up and in a bit of a state hes even worse. He just keeps gettinf in the way, he wants to help but somehow everything he does actually makes it worse.

🌼 "For christ sakes John sit down!" Polly losing her temper with him when the doctor does finally arrive and he carries on getting in the way.

🌼 But John will not be reassured and he will not listen to the doctor or believe them when they try to tell him that you're going to be okay.

🌼 He gets annoyed when the doctor tries to leave. "Where the bloody hell dya think youre going shes still out cold!" "Mr Shelby please, she's only sleeping, she's going to be completely fine... Theres nothing more I can do for either of you but you have my assurances that..."

🌼 "I don't want your assurances doc, I want you to fuckin do something!"

🌼 Ada having to intervene and drag him away, telling him that if he really wants to help he should stay with you, maybe talk to you or something so that you know hes there with you... Shes despairing with him if shes being honest...

🌼 But John finally lets the doctor leave and he sits down with you, holding your hand, stroking your hair out your face and talking to you, trying his best to calm down and talk calmly and reassuringly to you.

🌼 Worlds wobbliest restless knees award goes to...

🌼 He's a worrier at heart, even if he usually seems so laid back and when you do come round he doesnt stop fussing or being anxious, in fact Ada tells you she actually believes he's gotten worse... If thats at all possible.

🌼 He absolutely dotes on you. He doesnt want to leave your side but he doesnt want you to go without and he doesnt trust anyone else to get your drinks or to bring you food so hes constantly torn between going to get you food or staying by your side.

🌼 Isn't affraid to admit how scared of losing you he was, tells you multiple times. Keeps taking your hand in his and just holding onto you clasping your fingers tightly. He doesnt want to let you out of his sight.

🌼 Overly doting actually to a point where you think you might go insane. "John love, sweetheart please calm down, I'm fine I'm fine I promise... I can hold my cup myself see, I'm alright really love... Are you sure you're alright you're exhausting yourself..."

🌼 But he won't let you worry about him and he forces himself to tone his anxiety down because he doesn't want you to worry about him.

🌼 Again, can't get over how fucking stupid he feels, he can't believe he thought you were just drunk. He can't believe he just left you in the corner with the kids. He has such a huge crisis of confidence about his abilities as a husband/father. You needed him and he didn't even fucking notice.

🌼 He's petrified it could happen again and he does a lot of growing up. You tease him that hes growing too serious in his old age and although sometimes he laughs and jokes along, sometimes he gets this dark guilty look in his eyes and he reminds you of what happened, what could have happened. Tells you again that he isn't gonna let you down like that again...

🌼 Obviously wont listen to you when you try to tell him he didn't and could never let you down.

Bonnie

🍀 If he was being honest, for all that he'd told Tommy Shelby he wanted fame and fortune, didn't want to be a traveller anymore with fucking nothing to his name, seeing how Tommy lived whenever he visited the Shelby manor, made him question whether he really wanted all those things afterall. There was something about that manor that made Bonnie uncomfortable, perhaps it was simply that wherever the Shelbys were involved there was trouble.

🍀 And that was why he had had mixed feelings about bringing you to this party...

🍀Thered been so many reasons he'd wajted to... Naturally... He'd been excited to show off his girl, to have all the other Peaky Boys see you in all your beauty, for them to see that the shy and somewhat reserved Bonnie Gold, could do just as well as them when it came to women...

🍀And he'd wanted to show off to you too, show you how different the Shelby family seemed to live. The wealth that Bonnie was being introduced to. He wanted to show you it all so he could show you all the things he was going to work to win for you with his boxing.

🍀And he wanted to treat you. In comparison to the other Peaky lads like Isaiah and Michael and Finn, Bonnie led a far more simple life. The other boys were always taking their girls out to fancy parties, clubs and restaurants but you and Bonnie didn't live that kind of life...

🍀So when Tommy told him to bring a girl if he liked, Bonnie knew he would be taking you...

🍀Even if he was a little apprehensive to let you so close to the darker half of his life which so often put him in danger and could put you in harms way too if he wasn't careful..

🍀But it was worth his nerves to see you smiling the way that you were now, dancing with him, drinking and laughing with Isaiahs girlfriend and Michaels too. You looked so happy, so beautiful under the twinkling candle glow which lit the ballroom. And he was happy that you were happy. He was proud that everyone could see how you shone like a little star in that room. How you fitted in perfectly...

🍀But neither of you saw that stranger slip something into your drink. A drink that had been intended for Ada Shelby who had been talking to you by the bar, your glasses side by side on the polished marble top.

🍀 At first you just felt a little odd, a little dizzy as though you'd done ten shots of gin without realising it and they were all hitting you at once and when you found Bonnie and told him you felt strange he smiled at you and teased you telling you you'd had one too many trying to keep up with "us big lads"

🍀 He tucks you under his arm and leads you out to the terrace for some air, kisses your cheek and scrapes your long hair back from your face and neck so that the cool night air might dust you and ease your dizziness.

🍀You make the mistake of asking for some water and Bonnie makes the mistake of leaving you alone outside to go and get you some.

🍀And by the time either of you realised whats really happening its too late. Your little world is blurring and spinning and you feel suddenly so unbelievably sick.

🍀So you stand up quickly, too quickly, desperate to get back to Bonnie because you have that worrisome feeling in your stomach, that instinct telling you that something is really wrong.

🍀And you bump into a stranger who holds onto your arm for a moment too long, making you feel even more like you might be in serious trouble.

🍀You call out for Bonnie, your voice much quieter, your words more slurred than you expect them to be. And of course when Bonnie hears you he recognises that something isn't right because you sound so distance. Suddenly he feels very far away from you...

🍀When he turns and sees you he drops the glass of water, not even noticing it shatter on the floor causing a stir. He rushes to you concern lacing his brows together, his young face grey with worry when he recognises all the tell tale signs of something he'd hoped would never happen to you...

🍀 You open your mouth to call out to him but as you do you falter, stumbling forward. You're lucky your boy is a boxer, agile and quick on his feet, because he manages to catch you just before your vision fails and your body falls limp everything feeling heavier and heavier until finally you find yourself completely lost under a thick hazy quilt.

🍀 You can feel that sensation of impending doom grip you then, the fear building inside you, your heart racing as you struggle against the lethargy and confusion which is dragging you down into the dark. You want to cry, want to cry out for your Bonnie to help you but you can't even move let alone speak.

🍀Bonnie is shaking, looking down at you where you lie limp in his arms, your body slumped against his. You look so pale, so washed out. You feel cold too. Its as if you're dead but he knows youre not. He knows exactly whats happened to you because he's heard stories from Isaiah about some of the shit that goes on in the city these days. Girls getting attacked by sleazy gits. Ones who can't charm women (or perhaps dont even want to) so they use drugs to make them vulnerable, to make them easy targets.

🍀He's livid. Pale with anger. His heart beating fast because he knows how dangerous these kinds of poisons can be. How much damage they can do. He's scared for you but he's fucking livid too. Who the fucks Tommy Shelby inviting into his home these days... How the fucks a gang leader as infamous as Tommy Shelby cutting about letting young girls get spiked under his watch.

🍀He kisses your forehead, whispering to you that you'll be alright, saying a little prayer, a hail mary for you, hoping you can hear him. Hoping that it'll bring you comfort wherever you are just then.

🍀And then he surprises not only himself but everyone else in the room, all the other young peaky lads watching him astounded.

🍀Because he walks straight back into the ballroom, still holding you in his arms, bundled up against his chest, the most precious cargo hes ever had to carry. He kisses you on the forehead again and he says another little prayer for you, and then he carries you right up to Tommy Shelby himself, Bonnies eyes full of a cold determination, his anger apparent in the grinding of his jaw, the complete disgust with which he looks at Tommy.

🍀 It must be the adrenaline shooting through him, it must be the funny way emotions like fear and heartbreak show themselves when youre young and impulsive, but god knows where the confidence to do what he does next comes from...

🍀"You need to sort your fuckin men out Thomas Shelby, I dont know what the fuck kind of lowlife bastards you associate with..." 🍀his dad tries to cut in and apologise to Tommy on Bonnies behalf but when he sees you he frowns too and steps back wincing when his son carries on.

🍀 "You need to be a bit more fuckin careful about who you call your fuckin friends Tommy, cause when I find the sick cunt who's spiked my lass am gonna slit his fuckin throat from ear to fuckin ear..."

🍀 "And you say we're the fuckin savages..." he spits on the ground at Tommys feet but he doesn't wait to hear the older mans response.

🍀Instead he leaves with you immediately, doesnt stay to realise the true extent of the drama which kicks off after he leaves and even when he hears about what went down in the end he doesnt care. All that matters to him is you. When he's leaving with you all he's thinking about is how he's going ti get you home safe, how he's going to take care of you...

🍀All in all the attackers are going ro regret their mistake because had they hit Ada there might have been a bigger fight kicked off, her brothers picking any poor sod in the crowd of guests to fight with. But because they hit you its all over much quicker. Bonnie doesnt let you become a distraction, he really does just carry you all the way home where he can keep you safe, watch you through your unconsciousness and make sure youre alright.

🍀He spends all night sitting up with you, talking to you quietly, kissing your hair, cradling you to his chest, worrying about you. Saying those little prayers for you hoping that you can hear him or at least feel his presence. Hoping that you can feel his love for you, hoping you know that hes got you, that youre safe.

🍀 "S'alright little dove s'alright my girl ive got you you're safe sweetpea, won't let anything happen to you lovely..."

🍀When tou come round you wake in his lap, his hand in your hair, one hand on your wrist as he counts your pulse. He's so worried about you, the longer you've been out for the more stressed hes become. His dad came home not long after he did, Aberama had had to stick around and help when the fight had broken out, he'd also had to try and save face on behalf of his son and his short temper...

🍀 "My my bonnie that was quite the performance..." "I'm not gonna apologise so don't even try it..." Bonnies still absolutely seething and will be for some time, he's angry that Tommy would let those kinds of men into his house and he can't be reasoned with. He's definitely going to hold a grudge.

🍀But when you come round properly he drops his temper and shows you only gentleness ans care, ever so sweet as he dotes on you. Doesn't try to hide his relief, doesn't try to play it cool. Tells you how worried he was, how scared he was he might lose you...

🍀He asks you how you're feeling, tells you not to lie to him or play it down. "What do you need little dove, anythin at all yeah you tell me, gonna look after you i promise..." but you don't really need him to promise you that because you know it already.

🍀In the end you have to try and talk sense to him about the whole Tommy issue, you remind him what hes working towards, "Don't throw all that away over some stupid accident Bon, you're gonna be a star remember, gonna be my champion..."

🍀"Come in Bon, forgive and forget, what is it they say... Bury the hatchet..." "Aye I'll bury it alright... In the back of his fuckin head!" "Bonnie i mean it! Please!" and eventually he has to give in and take you seriously but not without that boyish smile, not without joking about his grudge from time to time and not without making it very clear that he isn't going to apologise for what he said that night, or for leaving before he could help thwm fight. "Alright, alright sweetpea, no bad blood i promise alright if thats what you want I'll forgive him... But am not apologisin to him... I did exactly what any good lad would do eh, got to look after my girl, gotta protect her first, shes the most important thing in the whole wide world..."

🍀He does feel like he should have done more, he regrets not realising sooner, regrets even taking you to the stupid party in th3 first place. From then on he's far more protective over you, hyper alert whenever hes out with you, doesn't ever let your drinks out of his sight, doesnt ever let anyone else buy you a drink. Doesnt ever leave you on your own, not even to get you a water when you really have had one too many. Certain he wont let anything like that happen to you ever again.

Isaiah

🐀 Similiar to John, Isaiah doesn't realise somethings wrong until its really really wrong and the fights already kicked off.

🐀The two of you would have been trying to outdrink one another all night. This was one of Tommys parties, one for all his legal business contacts and endeavors and Isaiah wasnt exactly expecting to be pulling his gun on anyone or getting into any serious scraps.

🐀However when a fight does break out, when some uninvited guests turn on Arthur and pull a knife, Isaiah's first thought is of vulnerable drunk you somewhere on your own in the party, perhaps off with Ada in the bathroom or with Lizzie at the bar.

🐀He only realises the depths of the danger you're in when he shoves a half concious thug to the floor and out of his way, pausing amid the choas to look for you, to see whether you've returned from the bathroom. But instead he sees Ada, sees her with tears in her eyes, her face white as a sheet. She looks terrified and although there could be any number of reasons the Shelby sister looks so scared Isaiah knows in his gut that shes crying because of you. Somethings happened to you.

🐀"Ada what is it whats wring where the fucks y/n..." and when Ada shakes her head and bursts into tears he fears the worst. Thinks something fucking awful has happened to you.

🐀He has this moment of hesitation, torn because the fights still raging and he knows the peakys need him to stay and fight. But he's terrified, so scared that you might be lying on the floor somewhere wounded or worse, dying, without him...

🐀"Ada tell me what the fucks happened," he snaps because hes panicking. Later he'll feel guilty for scaring the young lass but just then shes the least of his worries. He can think only of you. Total tunnel vision panic. When Ada manages to tell him whats happened she starts crying harder and Isaiah feels his blood run cold. He wants to run to you but he knows there's nothing he can do fir you, knows the only way he can keep you safe now is if he makes sure not a single one of these intruders gets out alive.... So he tells Ada to go find Polly, tells her to make sure she geta you help tells her to keep the both of you safe.

🐀He's in a blind panic, his adrenaline rushing him making it hard ti focus, hard to think and all he can do is launch himself at an attacker and take all his anger and fear out on them.

🐀Knowing that one of these men has hurt you motivates him and unlocks something plain sadistic inside him, he doesnt stop fighting until hes sure theyre all dead and even then with some of them he goes overboard, cutting people who are already dead/as good as dead. Kicking at their limp bodies until their blood stains his shoes and the walls, until its splattered over his body and the other bodies which now little the floor.

🐀John has to drag him away from the body of a man who's barely recognisable anymore reminding him of you, reminding him that you need him, "Come on Saiah, enough... She'll be coming round soon and when she does she's gonna need her man eh? You gotta be there for her mate, you've got to calm the fuck down, clean yourself up... Last thing she wants see is you covered in all this blood..."

🐀Then all the fight leaves him, hes stressed, can't control his ragged breathing, can't control his shaking. Suddenly he doesnt know what to do with all that fear and upset and for a minute he's scared he's going to cry in front of everyone. Isaiah definitely puts a lot of pressure on himself to be as tough as Tommy and the older Peaky men and the fact that his response when his girl is unconcious is to cry rather than rush to protect her makes him feel sick and a little disgusted with himself. Which obviously translates to more anger...

🐀So his temper flares and he can't calm down and even when Pol tells him to breath, to relax because youre going to be fine, Isaiah cant and doesn't accept that. He just gets pissed off that anything bads happened to you at all. And when he snaps at Polly all "Don't tell me to fucking calm down woman! Thats my fuckin girl there, fuckin out cold don't tell me to be fuckin cold!" he gets a hard slap off the woman in question. "Watch who you're callin woman peaky boy or it'll be you on the fuckin floor alright..."

🐀Only then does he come to his senses, suddenly apologetic and a little more meek. A little humbled by that stark slap to the face. It was what he needed in the end to calm him, to remind him who needed him and who he needed to be in that moment.

🐀And then Lizzie and Ada start wishing they could give him a slap too because he's fussing around you and getting in the way and he isn't helping at all...

🐀"Sit down for fuck sake Isaiah, fussin like that ain't gonna help her..." Ada trying to shoo him away, Isaiah straight up ignoring her and hovering around you anyway.

🐀Will be there when you wake up, will say sorry a million times, will not be able to handle the guilt. Makes a lot of very murderous promises. But youre actually kind of fine, just tired and achey, all you really want is for him to lie diwn with you and hold you whilst you rest.

🐀"saiah please," you yawn making grabby hands at him, lethargic and sleepy with little tears in your eyes, "just want a cuddle, come here calm down be alright just want... Cuddle..." him chuckling at you, a smile painted on his lips by your sweetness despite the stress he still feels.

🐀When he climbs into bed with you and holds you in his arks you hold onto him too, you can feel the adrenaline still pumping through his body, can feel his fast heartbeat and the way hes trembling. Youre not so naive as to point it out or ask him about it, instead you kiss his chest and nuzzle into his hold and you thank him for saving you and for being there when you woke up.

🐀Youre a sweet sight to behold and Isaiah is overcome with relief, a rush of emotion hitting him as he realises just how seriously he feels for you, how much you really mean to you. He loves you so dearly and as you're lying there held close to his chest he really realises for the first time that if anything were to happen to you he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

🐀So he makes a silent vow to you and himself that from then on hes going to be your protector, hes going to be there whenever you need him. That hes never going to let you get hurt again, never going to put you in harms way. He stops messing around so much, stops getting as drunk as he used to, really grows up and starts viewing everything to do with the peakys as serious, as a potential threat to you.

🐀Later you ask him to tell you exactly what he did to the bastards that gave you such a sore head and he lights up telling you about it, very satisfied to remember that he made sure they got what they deserved. And you're kind of delighted to hear it too, the kind of story that just make your stomach turn, your body cringe in empathy when he describes the injuries those gits suffered... Instead it makes you feel safe and secure knowing that you have a man who would do literally anything to protect you.

Michael

☘️ He's always enjoyed these parties, theyre so wildly different from anything he ever knew when he was living in the countryside... They make him feel like a real man, like an adult... They're so far from anything he ever expected for himself growing up

☘️And its even better now he has you to spend the evening with, to have on his arm looking beautiful, the most desirable woman in the room. He loves the feeling of entering a room and feeling jealous eyes on him, or shocked eyes. Women who look at him and see his girl and know they don't stand a chance. Me who instinctively drop the hand of their girlfriend when they see you. Michael loves to see it, the attention the two of your draw, the power you have over a room without even having to try.

☘️But that night he finally sees the flipside, the dark threat which looms like a shadow, which follows the shelby men and their partners wherever they go. The truth of the matter is that wherever you go, no matter who you're with, no matter what who is there to protect you, there always a chance that someone out there, someone nearby wants to harm you.

☘️ And tonight it so happens that that is the case. That someone in that crowd of giddy tipsy party goers, has their eyes on you, has foul plans for you...

☘️When it happens, when the 'poison' hits you don't really know whats happening but Michael does. He recognises the signs imediately, the way your eyes cloud with fear and confusion, the way your lips tremble and slope downwards as if you were suffering some kind of turn. He realises that somethings wrong but he doesn't know what to do and when you fall limp into his side, your body heavy against his, the poor lad panics. He freezes.

☘️And this panic is something he will never be able to forgive himself for. Something he'll curse himself for everyday for the rest of his life.

☘️But thats what he does. He panics. He freezes just clutching your lifeless body to himself, staggering back a pace or two, feeling like he might be about to collapse too.

☘️Honestly he thinks you're dead or dying, he thinks he's already lost you, that theres nothing to be done and when he drops to his knees holding onto your body like his life depends on it, he doesnt realise he's shouting for his mother until she rushes to him in a panic herself.

☘️ "Mum!" its that shout that stops the party, but its his next words, words which fall on a hushed and confused low murmuring crowd, "I think shes fuckin dead mum i think shes fuckin..." which cause the evenings downfall.

☘️In that sudden silence a scream is heard somewhere else in the house. It shatters the concerned murmur hum of whispers from onlookers and suddenly sobering perty guests, the scream ricochetting around the ballroom. Honestly Michael hardly hears it over the thrum of his petrofied heart beating in his ears.

☘️Tommy and the other peaky men all rush to find the source of the scream and when Michael doesnt move tommy stops and yells for him...

☘️ "Leave her Michael come on get up, fuckin get up!" he shouts to his younger cousin, no heart for you the girl passed out in Michaels lap, no consideration for Michaels world which is shattering around him in pieces on the ballroom floor. "Fuck sake Michael fuckin move!" he yells his voice carrying across the room, other guests watching in fear when still Michael doesnt move, still clutching onto you, still mumbling to his mum in a blind panic that he thinks youre fuckin dead...

☘️He's so torn because he knows he can't stand up to Tommy, he can't shout at him or put up a fight - even though all he wants to do is tell his older cousin to get fucked - but he also can't stand the thought of leaving you. Can't bare to hand you over to his mother when he really believes that if he does he'll never get to hold you again.

☘️He's so scared and he just sits there on the floor, on his knees, still holding you, your head hanging lip, your eyes shut, your body so unbearably still. He just sits there distraught looking between you and Tommy until tommys temper flares. "fuckin move michael..."

☘️ "Go on love go with your cousin," Pol tells him, "you go and you fuckin kill em for this eh, fuckin kill em... Ive got her, she'll be alright i promise you Michael, you fuckin kill em alright?"

☘️So he pulls himself together, stands up shaking, fighting back tears, a looming sense of dread and devotion, a doomed feeling taking hold of him from the inside as he follows Tommy through the house to the fight which has broken out, which is raging on.

☘️ But he's distracted fighting because you're all he can think about. He's so worried about you and it means he misses a couple of tricks, taking more of a beating than he should have done. Getting cut by a blade, getting a kicking that leaves him feeling weak and full if self loathing. He feels humiliated, even after the fight when he's had his fair share of little victories. Even when hes headbutted another lad out cold and sent his unconcious body staggering back and falling with a thud to the dining room floor. Even when hes plunged a kitchen knife into the back of another.

☘️By the time the fights over he's bruised and bloody and he looks worse than you. Hes in a foul mood, his temper thin and stretched tight because he feels that shame looming over him.

☘️He's genuinely humilated by everything, the fact that he let that happen to you, the fact that he was so scared, the fact that he didnt put up a good fight, that he's ended up battered and looking like a man who can't defend himself or his woman. A man who is only really half a man. He feels pathetic.

☘️ And that gives him a foul temper which he almost takes out on you. Earns himself a slap from his mother who tells him not to be so fucking childish, "Wipe that fuckin sullen look of your face Michael you stupid stupid boy... Y/N fuckin needs you so stop your sulking and step up for her!" "She needs you Michael, more than your fuckin ego needs you now get in there and promise you'll never let anything like that happen to her again..."

☘️And that's exactly what he does. When he returns to you he sees the little tears in your eyes and when you try to apologise to him all, "Michael I'm so sorry, I should have been paying more attention, I should have been more careful... Oh god look at you you poor thing I can't believe it this is all my fault.." he holds his finger to your lips and hushes you. "Stop that eh love, be quiet none of this is your fault... None of this alright... Don't you dare say sorry again sweetheart..."

☘️ He holds your face in both his hands and puts his forehead against yours, closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief. Sheds a tear that trickles down his cheek. You're alive and thats all that matters, you're alive and he's so relieved. He hasn't lost you, you're still here. That means he has a chance to make this right. That means he can do things right from now on, be the man you need him to be.

☘️ Thought I was gonna fuckin lose you angel, thought you were gonna fuckin die... But here you are, you're alright now and I'm never gonna let anything happen to you ever again, gonna keep you safe now and always yeah?"

☘️When you ask if he's crying he denies it, then he makes you swear on his life you'll never tell a soul, and that you'll never ask if he's crying ever again. You kiss his cheek where the tear is and smile whispering that you promise. That you love him. That its going to take more than a little drink to drag you away from him.

☘️ He's far more wary around you, who you talk to, where you go, far more protective. And he starts working out more, starts going to the boxing ring with Isaiah and Finn, and when he fights he tries to tap into that panic he felt, pictures your lifeless body and channels all his emotions into every punch, the adrenaline making him ten times a better fighter.

☘️ Loves to hear you tell him how strong he's getting, loves when you run your hands over his arms to feel his muscles and say things like "How could I ever feel in danger when I've got you protecting me?"

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #Michael gray x reader #Peaky blinders headcannons #Peaky blinders fanfiction #Isaiah Jesus x reader #John Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x reader

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