#Literally feel free to do whatever you want with this au
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ironunderstands · 7 months ago
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Crossposting my IP3 as parents post because this is my propaganda and you will read it
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puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago
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Prompt 111
Y’all know H2O? Where some people get cursed to turn into merfolk whenever they get water on them? That, but replace water with ectoplasm and merfolk with naga. 
No, Bruce has no idea how they managed to get cursed or how he ended up with an armful of baby snake-person creature thing. At least this one isn’t black-hair and blue-eyes so his kids can’t complain at him. And it’s not his fault they all fell into this, this was supposed to be a vacation while Lucious, Alfred, and Gordon kept an eye on things back in Gotham. 
On the bright side, his children want to snuggle up for once, which he supposes is nice. And Damian seems pleased about it judging by his rambles about snakes. So there’s that. 
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harleyification · 1 year ago
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Hey look, I finally got to write some Moon Son!!! I’ve been heavily inspired by Lollipencil to start seriously writing for this AU, and so I decided to start at the beginning…how I think it all began. However, heed the tags, because this starts really dark. This idea has been traveling around in my brain for several months now, a culmination of A. Letting Marc and the others become a fist of Khonshu early, B. Their mother being shitty and abusive like in the show, and C. The comics interpretation of Marc possibly getting DID due to almost getting killed multiple times in his life.
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence (nothing too graphic but there is a lot of blood), attempted murder, attempted maternal filicide, hints of physical and mental abuse. Please be careful reading this, and enjoy.
It’s hard to breathe. His chest hurts, with every staggering breath making his collapsing lungs ache, each one sounding like a death rattle.
Because that’s exactly what it is – a death rattle.
Marc can’t remember how he got here tonight. The memories were blurry amongst the last few minutes, quickly fading away as blood loss settled in. Red pools dragged behind him in a trail as the teen desperately tried to crawl away from the monster behind him, trying to find help. But no one is around, it’s just the two of them, and she’s still looming over him like a predator that has caught their prey. Marc can see her shadow and the knife that she clutches in her hand.
Marc doesn’t look back around. The room is getting dizzy.. He needs to hurry, he– he doesn’t want to die, please– he’s only fifteen, and his life was shitty, and he hates his abusive mom and his neglectful dad who let it continue, but he never thought that she would ever go this far. He never fucking thought that she would ever take it this fucking far.
She’s saying something behind him, but the words hardly register. They sound shocked. There were repetitions of “...my god, my good lord, what have I done…”, but Marc doesn’t turn back around. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s so fucking scared, one hand clutching onto his wounds and the other grasping the wooden floor to slide himself away.
All of a sudden, the chattering from the monster came to an end. There was resolute silence for a mere second, the only sound being Marc’s labored and pained grunts. Then, the sound of shoes walking away, leaving him to die slowly and... alone.
But he doesn’t look back. He fucking can’t.
Not when the doors and the phone and help was so, so far away, and he’s losing himself rapidly.
“Help…” he calls out, but it sounds far away to him. One hand forward, pull his body with it. One hand forward…and pull…reach forward… and…
He’s slipping. He can feel it. It should be scary, but more than anything he is exhausted.
He comes to a rest at the foot of something hard. Gazing up tiredly, his blurry vision makes out the stone mask of some kind of bird-faced humanoid. It was small, miniature, meant to be a decoration for wherever they were. Funny enough, despite its uncanniness, Marc can’t look away. It was better to look at it than at his lonely surroundings, he kind of thinks…
He will close his eyes for a minute. Just for a minute…then he’ll…ask for help…
"Hmm… a little young to be a fist. A bit too young, maybe. But it has been centuries, and I require someone, anyone, to take up the role at last. What do you say, child? Would you like to live and get away from the ones who have hurt you most?
….
All I ask in return is that you shall fight in my name and do the bidding of the night. Protect travelers who walk underneath the stars, in every way that you must, no matter the deed. Whenever the shadows demand it, you must heed their calls. Protect the lost ones, as you were once before.
Good. Very well. This will be very interesting indeed. Now, sleep child. Your body must heal. I shall guide you to safety."
Wary eyes blink open to minimal light in a sea of darkness. He was dizzy, his eyes swimming momentarily as his hand reached up to rub his temples. The teen looks around, eyeing his surroundings with open confusion as everything registers around him.
He was in an alley. A dingy, fucked up one too, as it had trash everywhere and there were mysterious stains on the concrete not too far beside him. The sources of light were coming from street lamps that lit up the asphalt streets and illuminated the boy’s uncomfortable hidey-hole.
He gets up, grunting as his aching limbs protest. “What in the bloody hell…?” he mutters to himself as he cautiously steps out into the open, seeing no one in sight. The streets were empty, the city was silent, and there was no moon or stars to be seen in the smoggy sky.
And just as suddenly, the quiet was destroyed by the sound of distant gunshots. The teen looks towards their direction and makes a mental note to not fucking go anywhere near there anytime soon.
The boy steps further out into the light, and almost screams when he sees the sight of his own bloody hands and clothes. They were fucking caked in red, making the teen look down the front of his shirt to see where it was he was hurt.
But…there was nothing. He pulls up his sleeves, and his skin was still unharmed.
That just makes it worse though. He gulps, shoving his hands into his pockets as if it would hide the crime scene that he practically emits. If the blood isn’t his, and if he can’t remember where it came from…then that just makes things a hell of a lot harder to figure out.
Steven has woken up many times before in weird settings and situations, but waking up has never been like this before.
There was the sound of sirens now, police and ambulance alike. There was the gleam of a needle on the building’s corner that glowed in the streetlight, prompting Steven to walk even faster. There was even the distant resonant sound of hair-raising cackling, as if through a speaker.
“Sheesh. With this commotion, you’d think I’d somehow wound up in Gotham…” Steven grumbles as he hunches himself down lower, trying to be inconspicuous.
He doesn’t know where he’s going, or what’s going on, or what his plan is exactly, but…but there is always one thing Steve knows that he is good at and can rely on.
He can figure things out. He’ll be able to get through this and make his way back home, surviving on the streets if he has to. He’s sure of it.
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3rrorsnas · 1 year ago
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hey can you please take down your reblog of my post. its fine if you dislike that but id rather not have that attached to my post, thanks (genuine)
that's a weird ass fucking ask here, especially that I didn't spread hate towards you at all in my reblog. said reblog :
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you are free to post whatever you like, but I am not gonna silence myself and not post my feelings and experiences for your comfort. feel free to block me.
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milfgyuu · 4 months ago
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Lowlifes [M] Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.5k, f2l, smut, fluff, humor, foundfamily, gang?au, 18+ Summary: Seungcheol grows tired of watching you fool around with a string of loser boyfriends and steps in when an ex shows up somewhere he's not welcome which unravels years of feelings lost in translation. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, lots of making out both in public and private, lots of touching, holding, soft manhandling, language, physical violence, mentions of injuries, broken bones, etc. not super detailed but very much implied they are in an illegal crime crew/gang/ring whatever. people are drinking in the bar and getting lit bc it's big dawg dk's bday ok. i think that covers it.
Seungcheol knows he should mind his business and he’s well aware that you can handle your own problems because you take great pleasure in reminding him of your capabilities.
That doesn’t mean he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye as you’re pacing back and forth at the far end of the bar. Your phone is glued to your ear and you’re obviously upset, throwing your free hand in the air with a string of expletives falling from your lips so clearly that he doesn’t have to hear you to make them out. It’s obvious who’s on the other end of that call and just knowing you’re still speaking to your ex irks his nerves.
He drinks down the remainder of his beer as he continues monitoring from a distance, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with thinly veiled irritation. 
When you hang up the phone, mid-sentence, it takes everything in you not to turn and drive your fist through the wall. All the pretty promises and apologies…you knew they were empty. You knew he would disappoint you yet again. You’re more angry with yourself for being stupid enough to hope he’d come through for once but instead of being here with you and your friends, trying to work shit out, he’s running with his new crew. 
Things were always tumultuous with Jae and never going to work out, which you knew very early on, but you just loathe being wrong when you give someone a chance. It was a fool’s hope to think he might turn it around and make you feel better about letting him into your life to begin with.
The truth of the matter was that Jae just wanted to be a part of your crew and when they refused to let him in, he went and found another and tried to drag you along with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d leave them, your family, but you tried to make things work and it bit you in the ass more times than you could count. 
You’re pissed as all hell when you slip back into the booth, right into Seungcheol’s side. He’s warm and familiar, and when his arm falls around your shoulder it tempers your rage just a touch. Another thing Jae couldn’t stand…how close the two of you were. 
Seungcheol has been by your side since you and your brother were kids. You three have been thick as thieves, literally, for so long that you were more comfortable with him than anyone else in the world. You loved, trusted, and respected Seungcheol to a fault. 
He also notoriously let’s you get away with pretty much everything. 
So, for no reason other than needing a distraction and hoping to get a rise out of him, you take the cold fresh beer he’s yet to touch right out of his hands and bring it to your lips. He makes an amused sound and pinches your shoulder where his hand rests. 
“That doesn’t belong to you,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t do anything to stop you from taking whatever you want.
You swallow another small mouthful and set the beer down, pushing it back into his grip. The little gasp of surprise you let out when his big hand catches around yours before you can let go of the glass makes Cheol grin which is an improvement from the scowl he’s been sporting for most of the night.
“You gonna tell me why you’ve been so grumpy?” you ask, leaning into him so he can actually hear you over all the noise, “You only nurse a beer when you’re in a shit mood.”
He lets you pull your hand from the cold glass but doesn’t put any distance between your bodies, he lessens it instead. You’re so close that he doesn’t even need to speak loudly for you to hear him. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me.” His deep rumbling voice can be felt this closely and the alcohol in the warmth of your belly feels fizzy.
“I’ve known you longer than anyone else here,” you reason, “You can’t hide anything from me.”
Seungcheol snickers, “Oh, I bet I could.”
You don’t get the chance to try and one up him because your phone buzzes incessantly in your lap. Pulling back, you both see who is calling and Seungcheol kisses his teeth in irritation. You silence the call, sending your ex to voicemail and you’re about to reach for your own drink but another incoming call prevents you.
“You want me to answer it?” 
Seungcheol’s tone is dangerous so you silence the call again and continue reaching for your glass. “He’ll give up.”
That isn’t typically the case but you're praying this once it is because you really don’t feel like dealing with Jae’s bullshit any more than you wish to handle a pissed off Seungcheol or get a lecture from your brother. Jeonghan, over-bearing and unhinged as he is, will talk you to death when you make a poor choice as if his entire lifestyle isn’t comprised of the ones he’s made. Better to keep him out of it too.  
Cheol will give you a piece of his mind but he’s more like your big, scary guard dog and even though you’re never on the receiving end, you know he’s got a nasty bite so you’d prefer to keep the leash short and not dangle bait before him. The last thing you need is Seungcheol winding up in a cell because of you…he toes that line enough as it is.
Unfortunately, nothing is going your way tonight and your phone lights up again. Normally you’d leave it alone but another part of you, one far and detached from who is calling, still fears the guilt of missing back-to-back calls heavens forbid something has happened.
It’s the only reason you’re answering, shouting over the noise, “You’d better be dying. What the hell do you want?”
“Baby, I just need to talk to you and you’re ignoring me,” he whines back and bile gathers at the base of your throat, “I already said I was sorry! Your friends don’t even like me so I don’t know why you asked me to come. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”
“You’re not good enough for me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, beyond caring about his feelings at this point, “You’ve proved that time and time again and I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. I’m busy. Don’t call me again.”
“Wait, wait!” he calls out to you desperately - it makes your skin crawl, “I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart. I’ll take you somewhere real nice, just us two, ok? You just stay there and I’ll come get you.”
Your face bunches up incredulously, “Don’t bother showing up now! The olive branch I extended by inviting you tonight no longer exists. I don’t want you here and I’m definitely not going anywhere just the two of us. I’m with my crew and you’re with yours,” you argue back, “That’s what you chose, so that’s what you get.”
There is silence on the end of the line and then laughter. 
“You’re lucky you’re hot because it’s a distraction from how fucking crazy you are! I swear to god, you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll pay more attention to you! Is that what you want? Want me to drop everything to be with you? Like you don’t get enough fucking attentio-”
“Hang up,” comes a growl from your left and when you look over, Seungcheol is seething.
You don’t waste another breath except to say, “Don’t call me again,” before disconnecting..
As you tuck your phone back between your thighs you accidentally meet Jeonghan’s gaze from across the table. His eyes flick between you just having ended another call and Seungcheol who looks like he might shatter the glass in his hand at any given moment. He raises a brow, his silent way of asking if everything is okay and you wink back like it’s totally fine. No worries. Not a thing wrong or out of place. 
Which, it probably would have been if your phone hadn’t vibrated again a minute later. 
It’s just the one time so you thought it was a fluke, a misdial,  but then it buzzes again….and again. Then it’s a continually buzzing stream of new alerts so you pull your phone out and find sixteen unread messages. You don’t even bother reading them and shove the phone back between your thighs. Just. Shut. Up.
Minutes pass and you’re trying really hard to enjoy Chan’s little impromptu performance at the bar, and it sounds lovely, truly, but it’s difficult to focus on anything at all between your efforts to internally process your ex’s fucking audacity and to ignore furious heat rolling off Seungcheol’s body still so close to your own.. 
He’s wholly enraged and you can feel it.
There is maybe a solid seven minutes where your phone sits silently and you’re about to turn to speak to Jihoon and then…another text comes through. Seungcheol’s patience finally wears through and he plucks it from between your thighs before you can react. You watch quietly, not bothering to argue with him as he forces a shut down before pocketing it inside his jacket. 
You still stare at him like some admonished teenager and he stares back with a small smirk, daring you to say something. He’s not doing it to punish you - that’s the reason you don’t push back - he’s going to make sure you enjoy the night just like everyone else. He knows it’s not going to happen if you’re glued to your phone and so do you. 
Narrowing your eyes, you smirk back. “You’re giving that back later, right?”
His answering grin is troubling. “I might make you earn it.”
You toy with the idea of asking how but that line of thought is mercifully interrupted by a round of shots for the whole table being delivered and passed around. You had to wait the additional four minutes of having to sit through Hoshi giving an impromptu speech that almost dissolves to tears because he’s probably (definitely) two shots too deep and then it’s back to chaos and you’re finally free to be a part of it.
Your mood lifts tremendously over the next hour so being present in the moment with the people you love. Hao’s girlfriend Jessie passes you a sticker sheet with little glittery hearts and stars which end up all over the bar, in joshua’s hair, the tip of Jun’s nose, the bathroom walls, and some litter the dance floor. Woozi steals a couple for the back of his phone case and when you run out she supplies you with temporary tattoos. Almost everyone has at least two imprinted on their skin by the time those are run through.
When your hands are empty and your drinks all run dry, an old country western song crackles over the speakers and suddenly you’re being dragged out onto the floor by Mingyu who is hell bent on trying to replicate some old line dance you’re sure he’s fabricated in his foggy mind. Something about heels and toes, and being swung around your partner - it’s fun and somewhat terrifying when he’s nearly lifting you off the ground mid-spin. 
It’s not his fault that he’s got long legs and two left feet when he drinks so it’s mostly the two of you skipping in circles, laughing and completely out of breath, but it’s a blast. 
And then you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Mingyu doesn’t even notice that you’ve stopped until he trips over your foot, looking down at you in confusion. “You givin’ up on me?”
“What the fuck is he doing here?” 
The voice comes from Joshua in the corner, which means somehow word spread about tonight’s falling out without you knowing, and now everyone is looking at your ex, boldly and moronically standing a few feet away from you which is several feet too close for their liking. Unsurprisingly, it’s Hoshi who’s already in his face, smiling in the most menacing fashion. “This is a private event so unfortunately for you, you’ll have to fuck off.”
Jae scoffs aloud, “I don’t give a shit about your party.”
Then his scowl twists into a smirk but it’s cruel and mirthless, his eyes falling on you and Mingyu who had at some point out of habit placed his body just in front of your own.
“I came for my girl but it looks like she’s already moved on for the night, throwing herself at one of you sorry assholes because I couldn’t make time for her. Typical.”
Mingyu anticipates you trying to step around him and quickly catches you around the waist to hold you back at the same time that Seokmin stands from his chair so quickly it falls backwards and lands with a loud clatter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns menacingly. 
“Watch my mouth? I’m just pointing out that facts. I should have known that’s why she suddenly didn’t want me here,” he goes on like every pair of eyes on him aren’t glaring daggers, “Would have ruined her plans to get shit-faced and open her legs for whichever one of you looked at her first.”
Jeonghan hurls himself at Jae with an opened switchblade in his hand but, thankfully, Joshua and Jihoon catch him first, and the bastard laughs knowing none of them would let Jeonghan get close enough to do something stupid. Not with witnesses around anyway.
Jae tilts his head, speaking directly to Jeonghan with his hands in his pockets and condescention dripping from his tongue, “You’re her big brother,” he pouts, just pouring salt in the wound, “You’re really just going to sit back and allow all your friends to take turns with your little sister? The crew’s designated whor-”
He barely forms a smirk before Seungcheol appears out of nowhere and suckerpunches him in the mouth so hard the crack is audible throughout the bar. Unfortunately for Jae, he’s still conscious when he hits the ground, broken teeth and blood pouring from his maw as he screams in excruciating pain. You’re sure his jaw is broken and you’re glad. 
Absolutely no one moves to help him. Hardly even bats an eye.
Then, Seungcheol draws his leg back and kicks Jae in the stomach which means he’s not done and after what your ex just said…you’re not sure anyone in your crew will step in to stop him. You move instantly, pulling yourself out of Mingyu’s protective grip to push your way to the front where you’re relieved to see Vernon already attempting to pull his friend away and he does but not before your ex’s hand is crushed under the sole of Seungcheol’s boot and the screaming starts anew. 
When you reach them, you immediately put yourself in the middle without hesitation, both hands against Seungcheol’s chest in an effort to calm him down before he loses it completely. One of his hands is still clenched at his side and you’re trying desperately to get him to look down at you. He doesn’t but his other hand comes up to sit at your hip and that’s enough of an acknowledgement that you relax, just slightly. 
You turn just your head to look down at Jae who’s never looked more pitiful. Covered in blood, dirt, snot, and tears. 
Seungcheol glares over your shoulder at the broken man on the floor, his arm now firmly seated around your body in a possessive display as he growls, “Always running your fucking mouth,” then he nods in your brother’s direction, “I should let him cut your tongue out.”
Jeonghan’s knife spins dangerously between his deft fingers like he’s itching to use it. 
He’s no longer restrained, nearly deranged, and begins stalking toward your ex who flinches away and frantically shakes his head, unable to speak with his mangled mouth. Your voice cuts clear into the charged air. “Jeonghan,” you call out and your brother stops mid-step to look up at you patiently. You shake your head at him and he concedes but the fire in his eyes is palpable. 
He smiles down at Jae, voice lilting and deadly. “You’re safe…for now,” he tilts his head, crouching down to get closer, “And don’t bother running back to your crew for help or hope for some form of retaliation,” He pauses, covering his mouth with his knife, giggling with feral delight dancing in his eyes, “I bet you didn’t tell them where you were going or who you were fucking with because they never would have let you come and I can only imagine how pissed they’re going to be when they find out.”
Jae’s brows furrow indicating his confusion and Jeonghan laughs again, wiggling his long fingers, tapping them with the point of his blade. “How do you think your ring leader lost two fingers on his right hand? That pretty scar down the side of his face? It was an improvement if you ask me,” he croons and Jae’s eyes widen with renewed horror, “Loyal little lap dog ever since and hilariously, still harboring a rather sweet crush on my darling sister. Small world, huh? We’ll be sure to let him know how you feel about her and who’s responsible for,” he waves his hand with an air of distaste, gesturing to Jae, “This.”
When Jeongan stands again, his smile falls flat and you turn your head quickly, tucking it into Cheol’s chest when you hear the crunch and subsequent thud as your brother stomps and knocks Jae out cold. It’s cruel, perhaps, but now knowing who exactly he’s been working for, you’d consider this a mercy compared to wait awaits him.
Seungcheol lifts his chin with a silent order and Junhui and Mingyu are already stepping forward to haul Jae’s unconscious form out of the bar with Joshua leisurely striding behind them, Jae’s phone in hand. They’ll dump him outside, a few blocks away. He’s lucky they’re not animals - Josh will use Jae’s phone to deliver a personal message to his crew but beyond that, he’s no longer your crew’s problem. Retaliation isn’t even a concern in this situation.
The atmosphere is obviously soured and you can still feel the rage swirling in the air. There isn’t a single member of your crew who wouldn’t have loved a turn. Even Minghao, calm and even, the most level-headed in situations like this has a particular air of cruelty about him in the moment and Jessie at his side tucks away a glittering pair of brass knuckles. You don’t have to glance around to they are waiting for an order and Cheol still has his eyes focused on the door. There are also a few patrons who are not associated with your crew, the kind who know when to mind their business, but even they seem to be waiting to be told what to do next.
So, you clear your throat and try to paint on a pretty smile.
“Pardon the interuption,” you sigh, each head in the room swiveling in your direction, “Turn the music up and order another round for the whole bar,” you glance up to find Seuncheol already looking down at you and you pat his chest, “Drinks are still on the big guy so you’d better take advantage while he’s still feeling generous.”
Thankfully, its enough to get everyone moving again, your crew falling right back into the party swing as if nothing happened. It was so easy for them to flip the switch sometimes. From volatile back to joyous - back to shots, and karaoke, and dancing. 
Seungcheol was still furious though. He doesn’t bounce back nearly as fast.
“Why don’t we take a walk out back?”
He doesn’t budge for a moment and you say his name a little more firmly this time to which he reponds, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”
No one asks questions or follows the two of you when he takes your hand and leads you out the back and into the crisp night air. It’s dark but the moon etches just enough light that you can still see each other easily. Seungcheol’s shoulders are tense and you watch his fists clench and unfurl methodically. They’re also red and angry after making direct contact with Jae’s teeth. The thought makes your gut roil.
“Choi Seungcheol,” you lightly grumble, “You can’t go around hospitalizing every asshole that is mean to me.”
Nothing at first and then there’s a little huff of laughter. “I can absolutely do just that, or worse. Besides, I only hit him once.”
“You broke his jaw…and probably a few ribs with that kick,” you sigh and lean back against the building, glancing up at the sky. “My point is that I know you can but that doesn’t mean you should. If you get arrested, who’s gonna take care of me?”
He smirks. “Spoiled.”
“Your fault,” you roll your eyes and really look at him. “I didn’t know he was working for Kaito, obviously. You know I would’ve cut him off completely If I had.”
“I didn’t know either,” he admits, shrugging off your surprise, “Jeonghan must have found out and kept it to himself. You know how he likes to hold onto things until its useful. Your brother is kind of a sadistic asshole sometimes.”
“Hannie is just eccentric and has weird hobbies,” you counter with a small grin, “Besides, he’s your best friend so think about what that says about you.”
He just winks in response. It’s maddening and attractive, per usual. 
“Mhm,” you hum quietly, pleased to watch him unwind in front of you, because of you. “I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood,” you tease him, “I thought for a few that you might have been mad at me.”
Cheol lets out a long sigh and digs his hands into his pockets. “I’m never mad at you.”
You cross your arms and quirk a brow at him, “That’s a blatant lie and you know it. I can’t even count how many times you’ve chewed my ass out for one thing or another.”
“The handful of times that I have yelled at you came directly after you did something dangerous,” he argues back with a short laugh, “Calling your ex, that fucker in particular, makes me question your judgement and maybe your sanity, but it’s not a reason for me to be mad at you. If anything it’s mild frustration.”
You narrow your eyes at him. It’s more than mild. “Say what you need to say, Cheol.”
He squares his shoulders, face serious much like his tone. “You’re too smart to keep choosing assholes that let you down over and over again. So, why do you do it?”
You purse your lips. “Touche,” he’s not wrong, “I am self aware enough to admit my track record is shit but there is not a lot to work with. It’s not as though our dating pool is stellar, Cheol. We’re lowlifes…we associates with other lowlifes. Nice boys like girls like me until they realize I’m not worth the trouble.”
He sputters out a laugh and steps closer, just enough to lower his voice in the echoing alley way. A touch closer and you could probably steal a little body heat you’re starting to wish for. “You are the trouble,” his eyes sparkle when he says it, like its a compliment, “Nice boys too soft for you anyway and we’re not lowlifes…we just live a little differently. You can do better,” he smirks when you roll your eyes again, “You can…you just don’t.”
You uncross your arms and spread them out before you. “Oh, any suggestions? I forgot you were a dating expert-” then you break into a laugh and Cheol is throwing his head back, knowing what’s coming. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You’ve not had a girlfriend in what? Five years? Eight?”
He snatches both your hands out of the air and pushes them back toward your chest, trying to reign in his amusement and overall urge to smother you. “You’re high maintenance enough. Why the hell would I need a girlfriend? I’ve got enough on my plate.”
You reach out and lightly punch him in the chest. “You’re a big boy, Cheol. Don’t let me hold you back. I can handle myself.”
At this, he snorts and pulls a hand out of his pocket to point at you. “You can handle yourself? Did I not pick you up in a police station two months ago for speeding…again?”
You pull off the wall with your mouth open to defend yourself and he abruptly pushes you right back against it and continues. “Who taught you how to drive and took the blame when you ran over Jeonghan’s bike when you were fifteen? Who showed up at three in the morning to pick your drunk ass up at that halloween party just so you could puke in my car and my bed…all night?” he pushes closer and lowers his voice “Who bailed you out of jail four months ago when you took a glass bottle to someone’s head in club and it turned out to be a fucking cop?”
“He looked like any other perv fondling girls on the dance floor!” You shout, eyes wide and wild as if someone would overhear, “How was I supposed to know he was a cop?! And why does it matter? He was a creep and I’d do it again!”
Seungcheol is simply dissolving into laughter, his earlier shit mood absolutely erased, and then as your volume grows he starts attempting to shush you though it’s half-assed. 
“Shhhh,” he laughs even harder, “I know, I know. I’m just teasing,” he grins when you finally crack a small smile, “Honestly, I was so proud of you that night. Took fifteen stitches to sew him back together and I hear it’s left a big ugly scar.”
You scoff in disbelief at his blatant pride. “Proud?! You chewed my ass out the entire way home.”
“Quit doing dangerous shit without me,” he shrugs unapologetically, “If you’re gonna get yourself in trouble, at least make sure I’m there to back you up.”
You roll your eyes, placing your cool hands under your chin to warm them. A cold wind whips through the alley, tossing his soft black hair around. Naturally, he steps into the wind’s path, blocking you from the worst of it because that’s what he does. It grants you the opportunity to slide a little closer and he chuckles, catching on very quickly to what you’re trying to do. Use him as both a human shield and personal heater. 
He looks down at you with that soft gaze you know is only reserved for you. As you’ve grown older together, you’ve learned that it’s best to avoid basking in it for more than a few seconds at a time. Your eyes dart down to his chest and back up again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.”
He pulls your jacket a little tighter around you. “We can go back inside if you want.”
Whatever you want - it’s always whatever you want. Sometimes you just want to know what Seungcheol wants.
You hold eye contact with him now, just watching to see if his expression changes at all. It’s almost dizzying, staring at one another so closely. A stupid decision on your part, honestly.
“What if I asked you to take me home?”
Simple. “We can go home. Just gotta grab my key-”
You shake your head with a small laugh. “Actually, I think we should go back in and sing karaoke.”
His lips pull up, always quick to pick up on the game. “What song? I love karaoke.”
“Liar. You hate karaoke,” you grin, “Why do you give into anything I ask?”
His smile is so beautiful - it always has been. 
“I do not give into everything,” he corrects you and then huffs in amusement, “Go ahead, try your luck but put some actual thought into it. You know most things are negotiable for lowlifes like us.”
“Great! So, you’ll let me drive your car tomorrow night?” you bat your eyes at him soo prettily. It’s in the bag.
He hardly budges. “No,” comes from those plump lips more clearly than you’ve ever heard it in your life and you instinctually pout like a child which amuses him. “I said put some actual thought into it. You’re a terrible driver.”
“You also said to try my luck,” you answer and it comes out more like a grumble, “Which has apparently abandoned me tonight.” 
The way you drop your shoulders and pull yourself inward knocks him off kilter and his smile drops in a split second. When he speaks again, his voice is just a touch deeper - less playful, more gentle. The change is so slight that anyone else would miss it but you’ve got that shift of his rooted in your memory at this point. 
“Your luck? Maybe,” he tips his head in consideration, close enough that he’s slipped his arms around you, big hands splayed comfortingly against the middle of your back, “I’m still here though.”
You know you should put some space in between your bodies right now but that little voice that is usually telling you to mind your boundaries is so far away in the moment that you do the opposite. Closing the distance, you look up at him as you slip your hands around his waist beneath his jacket. “Yeah, you’re always here for me. Aren’t you?”
When he dips his head closer, his tone is surprisingly serious. “I hope that’s not an actual question at this point.”
His free hand comes up to catch the back of your neck as you move to pull away, to ask him to explain or just to confirm that what you’re feeling is mercifully mutually, but you’re trapped - body painted against Seungcheol’s in the moonlight. It’s probably the most intimate position you’ve ever been in with him and your heart thrashes in your chest.
“I’ve always been right here,” his nose and lips brush your cheek as he speaks, “Patiently waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” you ask too softly but he smiles, you can feel it against your skin.
“For you to get tired of playing house,” He chides gently, “You already have a home with me and you know it.”
To say it out loud for the first time is almost staggering for Seungcheol and it’s a devastating revelation for you. Each time you tried dating someone new it had felt like a cheap replacement to distract you from the despairing thoughts of loving Seungcheol and him not loving you back, but he was there. Watching, waiting, already belonging to you in every way the entire time. 
The first sound out of your mouth is escaped laughter. It’s soft and disbelieving. 
Seungcheol smiles as he pulls back enough to see your face. “You genuinely didn’t know?”
You shake your head back and forth, still laughing, and the dimples in his cheeks pinch as he’s rolling his eyes at you, snickering to himself. “You’re the worst. I seriously thought you were playing dumb on purpose,” he groans, though his hands meet in the middle of your back now, comfortably laced like he plans on staying this way for a while. “Tell me. Who are all those idiots in there to you?”
Easy. “They’re my brothers.”
“And who am I?”
Your lips twitch and he smirks. “You’re just…Seungcheol,” saying it makes everything so plain and simple. So obvious. “You’re my Seungcheol.”
“Exactly. Have I ever felt like a brother to you? Like just a friend?” he prods, pretty white teeth still on display. He’s going to drive his point home like always. 
“Listen, jerk,” you poke him in the chest with a long sigh, “Of course you never felt like those things to me. I didn’t want to see you as just a friend and definitely not as a brother, gross,” you grimace at the thought, “But just because I felt that way about you doesn’t mean I thought you felt the same. I thought it was all very one-sided and I was just going to eventually get over it.”
He raises a single brow. “And,” he blinks pointedly, “Have you gotten over it yet?
“Unfortunately not.”
“Good.”
Good because he’s truly out of patience at this point and he’s going to make sure you know exactly how he feels without question. 
And that’s how you find yourself caged up against the wall outside the bar, Seungcheol’s lips hungirly claiming your own. His hands trace your body outside your clothing until he gets tired of the separation and you jolt feeling his cold hands against your waist beneath your shirt. There isn’t a second of stillness. He’s constantly moving, shifting, giving, taking. 
You’re no better. 
The second he kissed you it was like a flood of energy zapping each and every one of your nerves. After your lips, your arms were quickly in motion, wrapping around his neck and shoulders. Fingers threading through and tugging at his hair. He touched you and kissed you so thoroughly that despite the fact that is freezing and you’re indeed, exposed outside while your friends are just on the other side of that back door, you want more. 
More, more, more. 
Seungcheol does too. 
“Let’s go,” he mumbles between your lips, still too enthralled to pull away. 
It makes you laugh, though it’s a little delirious because he’s back to sucking and biting pretty little marks onto your neck, and you peel your eyelids open to see the fog from your breath as you speak. “It’s Seok’s birthday,” your mouth pops open with a silent gasp as he bites you again, “We can’t just leave.”
He drags himself back up and meets your eyes, grinning, “Like hell we can’t. Go get in my car,” he digs his keys out of his pocket and passes them over, “I’ll let the boys know we’re leaving.”
You stand there for a moment, keys in your outstretched hand, “Wait!” you realize he’s already opening the door. He’s so serious. “What are you going to tell them?”
He shrugs, “That we have better things to do.”
Appalling. “Seungcheol!”
Now he’s smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell them we’re leaving and going back to my place to fu-”
“SEUNGCHEOL!”
“You don’t want me to lie and you don’t want me to tell the truth,” he blinks back at you, “I am not sure what you want from me, baby.”
Well. Brain melted. If he’s calling you ‘Baby’ he can do whatever he damn well pleases. 
“I’ll be waiting,” you laugh, quickly spinning on your heel before you drag him away and he doesn’t get a chance to tell anyone you’re leaving. They probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours anyway. You shake your head, hurrying your steps toward his car. 
It feels like you’re waiting an eternity but it’s only been a few minutes and when you glance out the window he’s already hurrying back. You’re not sure if he just caught the first person he saw and told them to pass it on or if he walked in and announced it to the entire bar but you honestly don’t care. You’re maybe fifteen minutes from the garage, Cheol’s permanent (and your home away from) home. He’ll probably make it in eight with the way he drives. 
“I’m surprised to not find you in the driver’s seat,” he laughs, shutting the door and immediately bringing the car to life. 
“You’re the better driver and I’d like to get there quickly.”
Smirking, he smoothly backs out of his parking space and peels out onto the road. “I think you’re plenty good at speeding. If your record has anything to say about it.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Ok, so you’re better at speeding and not getting caught. This is why I handle the other business aspects.”
His hand slips over the middle and lands on your thigh, kneading and flexing possessively. 
Watching you handle business has always intrigued and infuriated him. You’ve swindled awful men out of house and home - lining your crew’s pockets with all the spoils. It had always been a fine line between letting you work while recognizing how good you were at your job and trying not to strangle every dickhead who thought that fake smile you gave them was genuine. “Might have to retire you now.”
You pout in his direction knowing his moody comment is nothing more than his protective, if not slightly dominant, nature coming through. He’s not at all serious, even if he’d like to be. “You gonna take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore?”
He grins at the suggestion. “You know I’ll take care of you, baby. Minghao is plenty good-looking. We’ll start using him instead.”
You snort at the thought. “You’re better off sending, Jeonghan. He's pretty, charming, and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of anyone. Why do you think I’m so good at it? Learned from the best.”
“Yeah,” Cheol turns, the wheel smoothly gliding through his hand, “I don’t typically have to worry about you stabbing or torturing anyone though.”
“Typically?” you turn in surprise, laughing, “Are you saying it has been a concern?”
He looks at you with a brow quirked. “Once or twice,” he scoffs, “You are way more like your brother than you realize.”
“Oh? You got a thing for him too?”
He snickers in response, shaking his head. “Little shit.”
He squeezes the meat of your thigh again and you realize he’s shifted his hand higher, his fingers spread wide, the pads biting into your jeans. “Quit flirting with me and drive faster.”
The only sound that follows is his quiet amusement and the roar of the engine. 
Pulling into the garage, you’re feeling too charged from the quiet, electrifying tension. It makes you feel jerky, like every movement of your body takes too much effort and every surface you touch shocks your skin. You’re already eyeing the stairs leading up to his loft but he’s taking his sweet time coming around the front of his car, waiting for the garage doors to roll back down. You want to barrel straight into him but you don’t exactly trust your legs to carry you. 
The doors close with a loud thud and he looks over at you still standing near the passenger door. “You look nervous,” he smiles softly, making his way around the car until his hands are seated over your hips. “We don’t have to-”
“No, no, that’s not it,” you huff out a laugh, “I think all the anticipation made my body stop working. Everything is tingly and sharp, and I don’t think I can move. Stop laughing at me!”
He can’t. Seungcheol is simply beside himself. You really can’t blame him. Truly, too horny and excited to walk? That’s got to be a new one. It certainly is for you. 
“I can carry you, it’s fine.”
But he is still shaking with laughter and we’re talking a whole ass flight of stairs. It’s not fine, though Cheol is already scooping you up and you're frantically trying to situate yourself on his back because that seems like the safest option and you’re already off the ground. He’s not putting you back down until you’re both behind closed doors. 
“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his shoulder as he takes the first few steps up the stairs, “This is such a bad idea!”
His hands are firmly seated beneath your thighs and your arms are wrapped so tightly around his shoulders that you’re not even shifting much as he carries you but it’s nerve wracking and honestly, a bit embarrassing. He’s incredibly proud and stubborn so there really is no hope in convincing him to put you down anyway.
“Stop panicking,” he laughs, now halfway up the stairs, “I’m not even struggling so your lack of faith in me is hurting my feelings. You act like you’ve never seen me workout. I do it for a reason.”
“I thought the reason was just because you like to beat people up.”
He huffs in amusement, “Fighting isn’t fun when you’re not winning.”
“Well, you always win so you must be having a blast,” you pinch his earlobe, rolling your eyes since he can’t catch you doing it.
When he reaches the landing, he digs into his pocket, unlocking the door with one hand and then kicking it shut once you’re both inside. Then he lets you slide down his back but before your feet actually hit the ground, he’s spinning around to pick you right back up. He laughs at the sound you make, quickly grabbing his shoulders and crossing your ankles at his back. Cheol flips the lock on the door and takes you into the small kitchen, setting you down on the counter. 
“I always win when you’re watching,” he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning closer, “You get mad at me when I don’t, so, I stopped losing.”
He looks up at you with a boyish grin and you bring your hands up, lightly touching his cheeks with your finger tips. You’ve seen his soft skin mottled with bruising more times than you cared to think about. “I don’t care about losing,” you murmur, lost in thought, “I just hate it when you get hurt.”
Tracing a finger over his right brow you remember that night years ago when he returned from a job with it split wide open, blood dripping down his pale face. Busted lips, fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an awful limp. It was the first time you ever saw him so…broken.
You yelled at him for getting hurt but cradled his face in your hands the whole time. While Minghao sutured it closed, you continued cursing at him and everyone else who’d gone out that night but you never let go of his hand. When Joshua reset Cheol’s shoulder and he nearly passed out from the pain, you sobbed. For days you’d been furious with him yet you stayed over at his place for almost two solid weeks to take care of him. 
Putting him back together with your own two hands was the only way you could convince yourself that he was okay and from then on, you accompanied him on most jobs. Anytime things got messy, he’d come out victorious, and the very few times you weren’t there, he returned nearly unscathed. Bloodied knuckles at most. 
Your fingers must have drifted down to his lips because he kisses them and it brings you back to the present. He smiles against your fingertips and you move them under his jaw, out of the way, just so you can kiss him again. It’s soft, slow, adoring and his hands slide into place right at your lower back, his fingers pushing beneath your shirt to stroke your skin. 
When they make contact, his fingers spread wide, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. It makes your back arch, pitching your hips forward, and leaves you sitting poised for the taking but even then he takes his time. In the back of your mind, you’re sure he can feel your heat against his groin and it must be driving him just as insane as it does you.
Despite the body heat, when he pushes your shirt up a little further with his busy hands, you shiver at how cold you still are. It’s accompanied by a breathy little gasp that makes him pull away grinning, eyes still watching your mouth. “Still cold?”
“Yeah,” you admit, “Do you ever turn the heat on in this place?”
“Only when you’re here. I don’t usually need it.”
Of course not. Big manly man. 
“You’re going to need it if you’re still hoping to get my clothes off.”
Cheol pays no mind to your change in tone. The one you use to nag him to death. Instead he scoops you right off the counter, starting toward his bedroom. “I can warm you up myself just fine,” he says in an equally haughty kind of way. 
The kind of way that shuts you up because the only other thing that you could possibly manage is some pathetic giggle. He even makes a show of hanging onto to you with only one arm because he’s just so strong and you humor him with an ‘oh wooooow’ that makes him crack, laughing as he lets you slowly drop to the floor.
Your hand remains on his chest, nervously pinching at his shirt as you look around the room. You’ve been in here before just…not for anything like this. “Why does this feel normal and not normal at the same time,” you pause, realizing there is actually something different that you hadn’t noticed right away. 
Seungcheol let’s his hands drop away so you can walk over to his dresser to sate your…curiosity? Surprise? “You said I needed more personal decorations around the house,” he clears his throat, watching as you carefully lift his picture frames off the furniture to examine them, “I figured pictures were personal enough.”
There is one of Cheol as a teenager standing proudly beside his first car. Another with a few members of the crew all grinning around a card table. You loosen a soft laugh remembering that night clearly. Mingyu and Hoshi shouting over the table like banshees…all because Hoshi got caught cheating and blamed it on his favorite designated target. 
You pick up one you don’t recognize but smile at the familiar faces hanging out of the windows of a car you do recognize vaguely. The job details were hazy but you know you remember that car for some reason.
Seungcheol must have noticed you squinting at it because he comes over and stands behind you, pointing at the picture. “You don’t remember this one because you broke into a case of wine coolers the moment we were all home and accounted for,” he chuckles, his breath tickling your cheek, “Almost seven years ago now.”
“I hated waiting for you guys to come home,” you pout, pointing to the picture, “Why do I remember this car though? It’s so familiar.”
He laughs again and this time you spin toward him like the reason he is laughing is clearly painted on his face. It’s not but he fills in the blanks without prompting.
“Jeonghan caught you in the backseat of that exact car making out with Seungkwan, of all people,” Cheol grins at your grimace “We hauled you both off to bed, tucked you in, and agreed not to tell a soul. I honestly don’t think he knows about it either. You guys were wasted.”
“I definitely do not remember doing that but I did oddly stop drinking wine coolers not long after that night,” you sigh, tucking away the embarrassing story to kick your self over later.
“Guilty subconscious?” 
Shrugging off your jacket you give him a fake laugh which eventually morphs into a grin. “Were you jealous back then?”
He takes your lead, removing his clothes one piece at a time. “I was always jealous,” he admits and you let yourself stop to watch as he grabs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It leaves him only in his jeans, belt already unbuckled. 
You’re the opposite, jeans kicked to the side, but your hands rest on your shirt, too busy looking at Seungcheol to force yourself to keep moving. He’s no better, eyes glued to your hips, to your underwear, your legs, and then his eyes bounce back up to your face, finally noticing the way you’re looking at him.
He takes a slow step forward and then another.
“I’m not perfect,” he cautions, another step closer, “I’m stubborn and jealous,” one more step until you’re touching, “I don’t like sharing. If one of the guys flirts with you, even as a joke, I’ll probably rip their head off. Might happen more than once but I’ll get over it eventually, I promise.”
“Hmm,” you smirk as he stops so closely you can feel the heat coming of his body, “A little sensitive?”
“Maybe.” His smile is so pretty and disarming because now his hands are on you, palms rubbing circles into your hips before sliding back and down over your ass. “You’ve been chipping away at my self control for over a decade and now you’re half-naked in my bedroom. I’ve hit my breaking point, baby. I’m going to be selfish with you.”
You shift just enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it in the general direction of your pants, and settle your arms around his shoulders. “I think it’s only fair because I have always been selfish with you and i’ll be so much worse now,” you grin and he let’s out a heavy, husky chuckle, tightening his thick arms around you, “I’m going to be a menace.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I’m still cold.”
Then he’s kissing you again, your hands quickly moving from his shoulders to his waist, pushing his jeans as low as you can before he’s forced to part and pull them the rest of the way off, laughing and stumbling with you toward the bed. You land first, quickly shuffling under the comforter for warmth and he’s right behind you, rolling you onto your back to cover you with his body. It’s an added layer of heat and you wiggle beneath him when his thigh pushes between your legs. 
Seungcheol wants everything all at once and hates having to choose but loves knowing he’ll get the opportunity to do it all in good time. For now, he can’t seem to keep away from your lips, can’t stop the noises he makes everytime you tug at his hair or scrape your nails against his back and he hopes to god they leave bright red scratches in their wake. 
He wants to watch you get shy and embarrassed when he works out with them on full display. His ego is a beast and it’s going to be riding a high for a while.
When you push up against him, he gives you a little space to quickly undo your bra before it’s tossed to the floor and he’s slipping a little lower, his face pressed against your soft, warm chest. His mouth dances from one breast to the other and you moan into the open air of his bedroom, one of your hands still rubbing his back, smoothing over his muscles mindlessly. His perfect teeth graze your nipples and you grind down against his thigh. 
He pushes it higher and repeats the action over and over until you’re steadily working yourself up and then he shifts, taking that relief away from you. Your eyes pop open in surprise but he kisses you again before you can speak and his right hand slides into your panties, wet and uncomfortably cool against your folds now that his thigh is gone. 
He doesn’t waste time, running his middle and ring finger up and down until they’re so slick-coated that there is hardly any resistance when he slips them inside you, stroking up against that spot that has you arching your back off the bed. It’s almost cruel how quickly he gets you there and even worse that he hardly touches your clit before you come, stars flashing behind your eyes. 
Seungcheol kisses your face through it, whispering sweet, filthy praises against your skin. That’s my girl, you’re so fucking good for me, baby. Sound so pretty right now, wanna hear you say my name just like that.
It’s a miracle you don’t come again the second he pushes into you because he doesn’t stop talking unless his mouth is occupied and he’s too good at multitasking. The only time you get a break from his wicked words is when he’s bottoming out and your ears are ringing so loudly that you can’t even hear him anymore. He must realize it too because his mouth was moving and now, he’s just grinning, eyes trained on your lips when he draws his hips back a little and pushes back in. 
His pace varies because he likes watching the breath get caught in your throat, breaking up the gorgeous sounds spilling from your lips. For all the taunting and talking he’s done, he’s just as worked up as you are and suddenly sits up on his knees which changes the angle. He spreads your thighs further apart, almost crudely, and props your ass a bit higher. At first, he wraps his hands around your thighs for leverage, digging his fingers into your skin but it’s not enough, he needs more. 
When he moves his hands to either side of your waist, he locks in the perfect position to go as deep as possible and the sounds you begin making are far more desperate, the pitch swinging higher and higher until he’s moaning and panting, driving into you faster and harder than before. You know you’re going to come again, and fast, so when your eyes meets his, and he purses his lips, letting spit drop from his plump lips onto your clit, he doesn’t have to tell you aloud what to do. 
You bring your own hand down, rubbing yourself until your limbs start twitching. Your breaths are so shallow and ragged, your fingertips messily bumping against the base of his cock where he plunges in and out of your cunt recklessly. He looks just as far gone as you do but the second your eyes meet, he smirks and it’s your absolute undoing. 
When you orgasm for the second time it’s so intense that all of your muscles lock up aside from your legs which shake uncontrollably and Seungcheol groans, hips stuttering when he feels the overabundance over warm liquid spilling out around his cock, splashing against his groin and stomach, dripping onto the bed. He stills, filling you so completely full that you can’t even breath without adding to the mess you’ve both created. 
It takes several long minutes of heavy panting and blinking to get your heads on straight and he still doesn’t pull out. Not even when he slumps down against you, grinning and kissing you lazily. He’s doesn’t give a single fuck about the mess, even going to so far as pumping his hips a few times, laughing when you hide your face under your arm at the lewd sounds echoing through the room. 
It’s playful at first, those half-hearted thrusts, but then his kisses turn into little nips, his mouth starts spilling those dirty words in your ear and it’s not long until you can feel him getting hard inside of you again, having never pulled out in the first place. He keeps fucking into you slowly, swallowing the sound of your whining, revelling in the way your nails no longer just rake over his skin but painfully dig into it over his shoulder blades. 
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t give you the chance to wiggle away from him when the sharp tingling of overstimulation bleeds into, “Oh, fuck, Cheol, I’m gonna come again…fuck…”
And you do until tears stream down your face and he pulls out, flips you over, and puts it right back in, fucking you brutally until he’s moaning and cumming, and you’re nearly ready to pass out in the bed you’ve both absolutely ruined. You hear him speaking but can’t make out the words and then maybe your eyes close because you’re sated and exhausted. 
It doesn’t last long though because Seungcheol is attempting to drag you from sleep because he needs to clean you both up and change the sheets before anyone crashes for the night but you’re not budging. 
Until you feel the sensation of thick fingers pushing into your cunt and you mumble aloud, “Absolutely no…straight to jail.”
Seungcheol laughs at you having not even moved when you said it and removes his hand. “I tried waking you up nicely and you kept ignoring me. Besides, it’s all starting to spill out and I like seeing you full. If you keep laying here I’m going to end up fucking it all back in and giving you more.”
Rolling onto your back takes an incredible amount of willpower and Cheol’s helping hands because your hips are stiff as all hell. He’s patient, not pushing beyond your limits even though you’re sure he could go a few more rounds without tiring in the least. Affection swirls in your chest and it takes him by surprise when you reach a hand up and around his neck to pull him down to your lips. 
HIs body relaxes into the bed, pressing his weight more firmly into the mattress to keep the pressure light where it covers your own. He kisses you tenderly, his hands moving softly and slowly over your skin, and your mind is emptied of all but the feel of him. It’s overwhelming, how deeply attuned you are to one another and yet your body continues to demand more. 
Your kiss is broken off in a choked moan, Seungcheol’s, when your hand snakes between your bodies. He drops his forehead to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath when you rub the head of his cock into the mess between your folds. “Again?” he questions, even as his hips push forward of their own accord. 
“Again…” you breathe out, tipping your face up to catch his bottom lip with a gentle nip, “..and again, and again, and agai-”
The delirious smile on your face drops open as he pushes back inside. Your tight, swollen cunt aches with the intrusion but each shockwave that pulses through you is laced with pointed pleasure. The effort to keep his pace even and gentle is difficult but Cheol finds very quickly that there is something incredibly arrousing about slow, deep, intimate fucking. 
He’s never experienced anything like it because he’s never had you. 
Yet here you are beneath him, clawing at his back and shoulders, moaning against his throat, and he knows it will only ever be like this with you. He knew he was ruined for all others years ago but in this moment he fully understands the weight of it. 
Seungcheol will never want anyone but you.
And when you unravel together again, you look into his eyes and know it too.
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The next morning it takes an unprecidented amount of effort to wake up.
Your body aches and joints pop in too many places when you stretch your limbs as if you’ve been asleep for years and not mere hours. It’s easy to pinpoint the loss of warmth at your side, Seungcheol hardly ever sleeps in and it’s evident by the smell of fresh coffee wafting in through the open bedroom door. 
Slipping into the shirt he’d left you and your jeans from last night, you wander in and out of the bathroom and head straight to the kitchen. Cheol knows you don’t drink coffee but you do love the smell of it so the sight of a full, almost untouched pot makes you laugh. His mug sits abandoned in the sink so you rinse it out and refill it, carefully balancing the full cup in your hands as you leave his apartment and head down the stairs into the garage. 
Joshua is the first person you find, unsurprising as he never seems to get hungover no matter how much he drinks the night before. He’s sitting at one of the work tables pouring over a set of blue prints for a new job when you walk by, chuckling and swatting away your hand when you ruffle his hair. “Morning Joshie.” He waves over his shoulder as you keep walking.
It’s relatively quiet in the garage for a Saturday morning but most of your crew is probably passed out from the evening prior. You would have stayed in bed longer too if someone wasn’t missing from it - someone you still haven’t found. Instead, you happen upon Jeonghan and Mingyu working on an engine…you think…again, not your expertise. 
“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan drawls as he catches you approaching from the corner of his eye, “If it’s not my darling little sister,” he grins and leans over to kiss your cheek when you stop in front of him, “Whatever are you doing here, in the garage, smelling like sex and coffee, so early on this delightful Saturday morning?”
You give your brother a deadpan stare and Mingyu snickers behind him. 
“Where’s Cheol?”
“Bringing in another delivery with Jun in the back,” Mingyu mumbles half-way under the hood with tools in hand, “Should be finishing up soon.”
Jeonghan leans against the car and crosses his arms. “Is this an official thing?”
You know he’s only asking because he loves you both so deeply that if there were any chance of it being a fling where feelings are inevitably going to be trampled, he’s putting an end to it immediately. He’s so fiercely protective that he’d step in to protect you from yourselves without hesitation.
“That man would have to be thirty feet deep in the ground to leave me.”
“Isn’t the saying ‘six-feet deep’?” Mingyu laughs, still focusing on his task.
“I said what I said and honestly thirty-feet still might not be enough - you’ll probably have to bury me with him.”
Jeonghan relaxes, shrugging off the tension in his body with a loose laugh. “Good to know,” he grins, eyes soft and gentle once more, “I always knew you’d end up together once you both gave up the world’s most stubborn ass competition.”
He’s not wrong. Who knew a little communication could go a long way? Certainly not you and Cheol.
Two cars pull up outside the open garage door across the way and you wiggle your fingers in greeting when Vernon, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Jihoon all pop out looking absolutely exhausted. You turn and set Cheol’s mug down on the counter behind you and pull out a stool to take a seat and hang out. 
“Wonwoo wouldn’t let us stop for breakfast please tell me there are still leftovers from lunch in the fridge,” Hoshi complains loudly. He absolutely still looks a little drunk.
Jihoon shoves him to the side and makes a beeline for the fridge around the corner, the two of them cursing and bickering as they go. Wonwoo and Vernon pull up a stool next to you and now you’re feeling a little guilty for only bringing one mug down. 
“Where’s Cheol?” Wonwoo asks, pushing his glasses up and shaking out his messy hair.
Jeonghan tosses a thumb in his direction, “Delivery.”
Wonwoo nods and Vernon taps your shoulder. “Hey, you’re here kinda early. Where did you go last night? Lost you at some point.”
Your cheeks heat. There are some of the guys you make crude jokes with and some you don’t - both Vernon and Wonwoo being on one side while Mingyu and Jeonghan are on the opposite. “Oh, I uhhh-”
“Notice anyone else missing last night?”
“Jeonghan-”
Vernon’s brows pinch together in thought. Mingyu stands up, setting down his tools before wiping his hands on his pants. “You know,” he grins, “Guy who lives in a garage, goofy laugh, kinda mean…”
Wonwoo breaks out in hysterics and Vernon’s grin is entirely visible though you’re sure he is trying to make it disappear when he says, “Oh! Oh okay…yeah…that makes sense. So, you’re like…yeah?”
You snort in response nodding your head. “Mhm, we’re like yeah.”
“Who’s like what?” Hoshi says around a mouthful, coming up to join you with Jihoon stomping past him empty-handed to go help Joshua. 
“Her and Cheol finally got together,” Wonwoo supplies and Hoshi’s eyes light up.
“Oh my god!!! That’s so exciting!” he dances over and drops his food on the counter, which Mingyu picks up to polish off while he’s distracted. Hoshi wraps you in a bear hug you try to fight off and then you’re up and out of your chair being squeezed and swung around, “This is such great news!!!”
Thwap.
Hoshi blinks and you slide to the floor. When he touches the back of his head, it’s wet and he turns to find a rag on the ground. It takes less than two seconds to figure out who threw it because it’s Seungcheol’s thundering voice that calls out, “Put her down and get to work, asshole.”
“Asshole?” Hoshi mutters, kicking the rag, “I’m the asshole?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” he smacks your arm lightly, “Hey, do us all a favor. Take him back upstairs and tie him up or something would ya?”
“Inappropriate,” you snort just before big familiar arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Morning baby,” he breathes against your hair before he’s planting a hot kiss on the side of your neck, “Sleep well?”
Everyone very quickly finds a way to mind their own business. 
“Slept just fine,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him properly. “Now apologize to Hoshi, you beast.”
He sighs, dropping his head dramatically against your shoulder. “Hoshi!” he shouts across the way, “I’m sorry. Order breakfast for everyone on me.”
“All is forgiven, bro!” Hoshi salutes him in response and the others start gathering to make their requests. Food fixes almost anything in this house.
Cheol laughs and kisses your hair. “Happy?”
“Very,” you hum, turning in his arms, “Brought you coffee but it might be cold by now.”
“That was nice of you.” Now that you’re finally getting a good look at him you see he’s wearing the dark blue cargo pant, white tank top combo that drives you fucking insane. You’ll sit for literal hours on end just to watch him work on the cars in that exact outfit. Even better when he’s got oil smatterings here and there. The thick leather gloves he sometimes has hanging out of his back posket when not in use. 
Mechanic Seungcheol is one of your favorite fantasies sprung to life.
“I wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of my own heart,” you retort, “I was trying to get something out of you in return.”
“Oh?” he smirks, “Like what?”
“Kiiiinda hoping I’d get you back upstairs for a few favors.”
His hands slide along your arms until he’s managed to bring them up and around his neck and then he’s got you caged in, clasping his own low on your back. “I’m sure we can make time for that,” he mumbles along the seam of your lips, brazenly, and very openly making out with you in the next breath like there aren’t several people in the garage along with you.
“MAKE IT QUICK. WE’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”
Cheol tosses up a middle finger in Jeonghan’s general direction and shouts back, “Well, I’ve got your sister to do and that’s more important. Work can wait.” Your mouth pops open in amusement and he takes advantage of your distraction to hoist you up into his arms, making his way toward the stairs to his apartment again. When he speaks again, it’s only loud enough for you, “I think I’ve got just enough time to fuck you over the kitchen counter and make a fresh pot of coffee before I have to come back down, whoop your brother’s ass, and get back to work.”
“Your time management skills are-” you cling onto him a little tighter as he starts up the steps, “- very impressive.”
“You should see my oral presentation skills.”
With that in mind, you lean over his shoulder and shout down, “YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK IN AN HOUR.”
“AN HOUR?!” Jeonghan hollers back, absolutely exasperated because he knows this is going to be an ongoing battle for months if not years on end. “WHAT PART OF WE GOT SHIT TO DO DID YOU TWO NOT UNDERSTAND?”
Cheol sighs and puts you down to open the door, hanging over the railing with a flat look on his face. “I’ll rip the transmission out of your car with my bare hands and toss it into the river if you open this door.”
Jeonghan scoffs but Cheol grins and cuts him off, “And then i’ll take the knife in your glovebox and split open every individual stitch in the interior.”
Those are serious fighting words between car guys. You think.
Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then huffs, hands on his hips. “You guys are the worst.”
Cheol blows your brother a kiss as you drag him inside and you can catch a hint of amusement on Jeonghan’s face just before you seal yourselves inside. 
You’re okay with being the worst, so is Seungcheol. 
Maybe being a couple of lowlifes isn’t such a bad thing after all.
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Thanks for reading! 💖
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jenscx · 2 months ago
Text
HIT ME UP — uchinaga aeri
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aeri’s never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friend’s instagram and why is she so pretty?
tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric
wordcount 6.0k
🎙️ author’s note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi 🤍 can’t express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!
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uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesn’t really count the situationships or talking stages she’s had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.
something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isn’t that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesn’t think she’s asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities she’s met lately. even jimin can’t help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.
because aeri loves everyone, as long as they’re pretty, she’s been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she can’t really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.
needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.
and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeri’s latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date she’d been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.
(“oh… maybe i shouldn’t be friends with her either,” yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.
“do you think she’ll burst into flames if you tell her you’re a scorpio as well?” jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)
anyway, so what if aeri’s luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and it’s not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. she’s been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesn’t have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.
okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isn’t enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, ‘we’re soulmates’ type.
not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan aren’t aeons apart, aeri doesn’t really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesn’t feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.
she’s getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but she’s sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.
jimin [6.19pm]:
omg guys
i think i just met the loml
holy shit shes so cute
im in love
can sm1 find her @
yizhuo [6.20pm]:
who
jimin [6.20pm]:
uhmmmmm
minjeong?
her cup says that
yizhuo [6.20pm]:
are you serious 😐
jimin [6.21pm]:
STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME
AAAAAAA
aeri [6.22pm]:
girl shut up
she throws her phone aside as jimin’s cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasn’t going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole ‘i don’t need a man’ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.
jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.
aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.
“uhm, hello?”
“oh my goodness— what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!” jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.
staring blankly, aeri repeats, “hello?”
“hi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl and—”
yizhuo’s voice cuts through, “does it really count as meeting her though?”
aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, “no, but that’s not the point. the point is that she’s really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.”
“you think we can find it?” yizhuo asks, unamused.
“well, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!” jimin’s logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jimin’s assumption would be right.
“what was her name again?” aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.
jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, “minjeong! isn’t it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl… heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?”
aeri isn’t too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jimin’s boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.
a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, “i found her!”
and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.
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“c’mon, ningie! please!” aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girl’s instagram? definitely not aeri.
yizhuo only huffs, “i want something in return.”
“anything! really!” the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, “mj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.”
aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.
“oh my gosh, thank you!” jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuo’s cheek.
“how’d you find her instagram?” aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, “my friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.”
aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, who’s still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jimin’s devotion to find this mystery girl’s instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.
hence, she peeks over jimin’s shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, it’s well-fitting, surprisingly.
“she does look like a maltese,” are aeri’s first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, “i know right!”
“oh, she’s really cute,” aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isn’t planning on competing in some competition for minjeong’s love alongside her own best friend.
“she’s friends with a lot of unnies,” yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, “nayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnie— well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? she’s friends with her too.”
jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, “but they’re all friends only though, right?”
yizhuo nods, “yup, i haven’t heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.”
her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.
with aeri’s words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeong’s posts and hastily scrolls back up.
“check her highlights too,” aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. it’s full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.
then, jimin clicks on one that’s named ‘solos’ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeong’s feed is nice, aeri thinks. it’s clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.
when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeri’s jaw visibly drops.
“oh my god,” she gapes, snatching jimin’s phone away into her own hands, “who is that?”
“hey! give it back!”
“stop it!” aeri swats jimin’s hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lips— oh, aeri might be in love.
she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.
“oh shit, do you think that’s her girlfriend?” jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.
yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jimin’s phone, sneering, “close your mouth, both of you. she’s y/n.”
aeri jumps into action at her words, “you know this girl? who is she? what’s her name?”
“calm down, damn.”
“sorry— this is the literal love of my life?”
jimin frowns, “that’s what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.”
ignoring jimin.
“i don’t know her, i know of her,” yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.
“just stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or she’s in the comments,” jimin suggests.
aeri hollers, “you’re a genius!” it’s her first time saying that to jimin.
through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.
mj_0101 been away
view all comments
1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all
↳ mj_0101 photo creds to my bae
“bae?! jimin— oh my fucking god!” aeri screeches and thank god they’re in jimin’s room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeri’s been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.
equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, “of course the pretty girls are dating!”
“guys, i just said they’re only friends.”
“and how do you know that?!”
yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.
“because i know them, duh. y’all are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls it’s like your ability to think disappears.”
well that, aeri can’t disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeong’s story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.
as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, “stalk her on your own phone.”
begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girl’s instagram. it’s pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeri’s heart clench.
“fuck,” she groans, feeling her throat choke up, “she’s so my type.”
jimin nods in agreement even though aeri’s sure she didn’t hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).
“you think she’s into girls?” aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairo’s one right at the front.
“maybe. i don’t know her too well. i heard she’s kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.”
aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.
“aeri-ah,” jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.
“yes?”
she gulps, swallowing harshly, “if you text her, i’ll text minjeong.”
yizhuo hums, “you two do that.”
she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? who’s insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? she’s not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.
god, she needs you biblically.
“okay, let’s get girlfriends!”
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she doesn’t text you at all. it’s a little embarrassing to admit but aeri’s scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldn’t get her ego bruised like that. and jimin’s no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.
what she does do is first of all, create another account that’s completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri can’t help herself from viewing it immediately.
and maybe she shouldn’t have, since she’s seething by the time yizhuo texts her.
yizhuo [1.43pm]:
hey guys…
has any1 seen y/n’s story?
jimin [1.44pm]:
minjeong’s account is burned into my screen
but no ☺️
aeri [1.44pm]:
i’m gonna kill myself
jimin [1.46pm]:
😨⁉️
she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.
what the actual fuck.
her phone rings— she picks up on the first ring.
“so…” yizhuo starts awkwardly.
“what’s going on?! aeri, don’t kill yourself?! you’re my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeri—”
aeri cries out, “she has a girlfriend!”
the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jimin’s forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.
“WHAT?!”
“she just posted a photo of her kissing some girl’s cheek!” aeri screeches.
yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, “her girlfriend’s pretty though.”
“not the point— also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!”
jimin frowns, “you can still be friends with her, right?”
“well… i was going to try to hit her up first,” aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadn’t even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasn’t a homewrecker.
“maybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,” yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.
“jimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.”
“what?! i’m not ready!”
“it’s just a text! like her story or something!”
jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, “wait, don’t tell me you have been liking all her stories?”
“okay, maybe i have! that’s not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! i’m way farther in this than you are—”
aeri hangs up. she can’t deal with a gloating jimin right now.
she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.
swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. it’s a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.
with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.
she types out, ‘omg where is this?’ it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe you’re at. it’s a rather popular one that she has visited herself.
before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.
god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.
within seconds, there’s a reply that makes aeri’s heart soar.
[aerichandesu] 1eeyn
it’s winters village in hongdae!
you’re really pretty btw
score! aeri’s got this in the bag!
she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.
aerichandesu [2.10pm]:
omg thankuu 💗
you’re super cute too
you don’t reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. you’re online. but why aren’t you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesn’t pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.
she can’t let a girl plague her mind! aeri’s better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.
aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldn’t even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.
“girl, i think you have to stop,” yizhuo says one day.
“stop with what?” aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuo’s talking about. jimin’s head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.
after swallowing, jimin giggles, “your little thing with your girl.”
“uhm, what?”
“i think you’re creeping her out,” yizhuo shakes her head, “if i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.”
aeri pouts, feeling admonished, “i haven’t texted her in two days. she isn’t interested.”
“oh thank goodness,” the chinese girl sighs in relief, “i thought you went all joe goldberg on her.”
“i’m not joe! and i would never do that to someone!”
“well, i was worried anyway.”
jimin nudges her shoulder, “there’s a lot of fish in the ocean, right?”
rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jimin’s side, “imagine if i said that about minjeong.”
“why would you ever say that about minjeong?” jimin furrows her brows, “and i actually texted her.”
aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.
“you did?! holy shit, congrats dude!”
jimin looks away, sheepish, “i replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i don’t know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so i’m thinking of bringing her to bowl.”
genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesn’t remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just weren’t in the same classes.
“guess it’s just me now, huh?” aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.
jimin pouts, “you’ll find someone better.”
aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that she’s never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.
yeah, she doesn’t think she will.
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aeri’s totally fine. she’s gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and she’s okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeri’s determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.
(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)
yizhuo had applauded her ‘getting over’ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeri’s glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and she’s over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.
jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesn’t know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jimin’s paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.
what jimin doesn’t say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.
coincidentally, you.
hence, aeri’s sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.
you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jimin’s friends.
“this is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,” minjeong informs you, “but i don’t think we ever crossed paths before.”
“no, we haven’t,” you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.
“nice to meet you, y/n,” yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. you’re still a little confused as to why aeri wasn’t talking right now.
maybe she thinks you don’t recognise her? but you do. she’s the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.
“nice to meet you too,” you grin, “nice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.”
you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasn’t she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?
“shall we order?” jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.
you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.
y/n bae [7.24pm]:
is smth wrong w aeri?
mindoongie [7.24pm]:
uhmm idk 😓
idt she’s usually like this
jiminie said she’s quite sociable
awesome. so that meant you were the problem.
resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, “what are you currently studying?”
“oh, i’m doing fashion design,” she answers, twirling the knife.
“that’s interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?”
yizhuo chuckles, “i’ll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?”
“i’ll definitely pursue something in modelling but i’m studying medicine right now.”
engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeri’s pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what you’ve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.
“y/n, are you dating anyone right now?” yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, “ah, no. not currently.”
in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.
spurred on, aeri asks, “do you have time to date while studying?”
“hm, it was manageable,” you reply, “it got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.”
aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.
you wonder why she asked that.
[aerichandesu] 1eeyn
hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?
for taking care of my best friend
aeri blinks at the message. it’s the first time you’ve texted her first.
aerichandesu [10.43pm]:
sure
she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesn’t feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.
1eeyn [10.44pm]:
thank u aeri chan
aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.
1eeyn [10.45pm]:
we didn’t get to talk much, huh?
aerichandesu [10.45pm]:
no sorry
i wasn’t feeling well
it feels like the safest lie she can tell.
1eeyn [10.46pm]:
that’s a shame
are you feeling better now?
aerichandesu [10.46pm]
yes, i am
1eeyn [10.46pm]:
that’s good
rest well aeri-chan 💗
oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!
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over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didn’t know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeri’s nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.
(“she sent me a selfie! of her face!” aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.
jimin grimaces at the blood, “well, yes. selfies are usually of someone’s face.”)
then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.
aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri can’t believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.
how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“no scary movies please,” jimin begs, tugging at minjeong’s shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.
“you like scary movies?” you whisper to aeri.
she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jimin’s reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.
“nooo not the conjuring please!”
aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jimin’s apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when it’s minjeong’s turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.
“don’t worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. she’s just playing with jimin,” you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.
“oh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!”
“minions and despicable me are two different movies!” yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will end— with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.
a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, “they’re cute, aren’t they?”
aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeong’s fingers are interwoven even though they’re arguing.
“yeah, silly but cute.”
you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeri���s under the blanket, “we can’t lose to them, right?”
she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.
“no, i’ll never lose to jimin.”
your laugh makes aeri’s cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.
aeri’s heart feels content.
she’s happy here, being friends with you.
unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesn’t last for long.
after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. you’ve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows you’re busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.
photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you weren’t working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. she’s busy during the day, so she doesn’t really check her phone often. when she finally does, she’s welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.
she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.
then, one day, the messages stop. aeri’s a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothing’s there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.
but when she wakes up the next day, there’s only a lone message asking for her to meet you.
aeri agrees, yet she can’t help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.
after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeri’s suffering from y/n drought.
you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, you’re already there, seated and deep in thought.
“hey,” she greets, “slept well?”
you didn’t, but you nod anyway.
“did you have a shift yesterday?” aeri asks as you order your regulars.
“uhm, no. sorry i didn’t text you, i was busy doing something else.”
“nah, it’s fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.”
you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, “are you good? you seem a little off.”
“i’m fine!” your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.
“so, what’s up?” she finally asks.
you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, “i just wanted to talk.”
“mhm, sure.”
“i wanted to know… well… uhm, if you were still interested in me,” you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, “wh-why? what— what do you mean?”
you inhale sharply, “i know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?”
aeri withdraws her hand, “uh, why?”
furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, “please just tell me.”
“uhm. well… yes? but why—”
“because i’m interested. and i want to find out if the feeling’s the same,” you blurt out. aeri’s eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasn’t racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.
“if you were interested before… why didn’t you say anything?” aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “i was dating someone at the time. it wasn’t right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.”
aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.
“i’m sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldn’t message back with the same eagerness,” you explain.
“no, it’s fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didn’t like me back.”
“we became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.”
aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her ‘friends to lovers’ trope after all.
“i hope that now, i can take you on a date?” you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.
“yes, obviously. you’re my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met you—”
“oh, is that why you were so quiet that night?”
“yeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss and—”
you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.
when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.
maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.
thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).
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serqphites · 3 months ago
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been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again
16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass
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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.
"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?
she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!
she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)
laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.
this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them
i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!
you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)
not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.
abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)
abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.
abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?
even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO
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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3
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mjtheartist04 · 1 year ago
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IM SCREAMING AND BARKING‼️‼️
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*SHAKES YOU* MARIUS!!! I KNOW I ASKED FOR THIS BUT IM-
IM SPEECHLESS AND SHOCKED
THE COLORS. THE DETAILS.
THIS IS FUCKING GORGEOUS✨ I KEEP STARING AT THIS MASTERPIECE IN AWE CUZ HUH!????? IM ADMIRING THIS! JUST EVERYTHING IS PERFECT
YOU TOOK YOUR BEAUTIFUL TIME, HOURS EVEN TO DRAW ALL OF THIS- LIKE IM FR ZOOMING IN AND ADMIRING EVERY DATAIL,
THE COLORS! I CANNOT GET OVER HOW BEAUTIFUL THE COLORS AND YOUR ARTSTYLE IS✨😫
MY GAWD THANK YOU SO MUCHH!!!!😭 GGRAHHHH I LOVE YOUUU!!!!🩵🩵🩵 IM IN LOVE WITH IT💕 IM KEEPING THIS FOREVER AND TREASURING IT AND IM GOING TO CONTINUE ADMIRING IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE‼️
This is now my wallpaper for my iPad💖😮‍💨
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a commission for my wife @mjtheartist04! for her red riding hood au heuheueh
i enjoyed this a lot!! (also struggled a bit cos i made sure to size up my canvas for better quality)
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miupow · 2 months ago
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Omg have you done girldad!Soobin head cannons yet?
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GIRL DAD!SOOBIN HEADCANONS !
𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― 󠀬󠀬[ choi soobin x reader ] sfw , fluff . parent au , dad soobin , mom reader , mentions of pregnancy and birth , tooth rotting fluff
a/n ⸝⸝ no i haven’t yet… but i will now !!!! i hope you enjoy~~
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
soobin is the ultimate girl dad and nothing will ever change my mind about this ! his little girls are his everything and he would lay his life down in an instant for them
his daughters r such daddy’s girls he’s always the favorite parent lol !! he dotes on them and can’t ever tell them no the get absolutely whatever they want !
husband and father soobin with three daughters and a son .. his son looks just like him and is so shy and sweet ! his daughters always play with him as if he was their sister lol
letting his daughters put bows and barrettes in his hair, slather glittery makeup on his face, put a tiara on his head and make him play tea party or house with them. he’s always the dog.
him and his wife being the only two people who can tell their identical twin daughters apart and getting pissed when one is mistaken for the other. like wdym you can’t tell which is which??? starts color coding his twins so others can tell them apart 😭
he’s such a sap for his kids but he couldn’t care less , he loves them so much :( always there to support them in whatever they’re doing no matter what his schedule is, he would literally rather die than miss his kids dance recital
coming home from running errands to see both your daughter and your husband crying at the dinner table over math homework
he wasn’t very good in school so he’s extra impressed when his kids get good marks :) feels a little competitive with tyun because tyuns kids are just as genius as he is lol
he can’t stand being away from his kids :( take a child free weekend trip with him and he’s spending the entire time talking about how much he misses his babies :( always buying them gifts everywhere he goes they have sooo many toys and things because he just can’t help himself
taking naps with his kids :( soob passed out on the couch with two daughters on his chest, another daughter in his lap, his son wrapped around his leg 😭
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kathaynesart · 6 months ago
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So I read your analysis of Donnie’s ninpo and I think it’s really interesting. I find it funny that the last turtle to hone his ninpo is now one of the top two skilled in it.
I did want to ask though, what’s up with the little Donnie projection he has flying around? I’m assuming he’s not actually doing all the poses the little guy does like laying on the ground when it lays on Mikey’s palms. Is this his Ninpo, or the visors they wear, or possibly a third option I haven’t taken into consideration yet? I imagine it’d be a little draining to make a perfect detailed replica (hehe) of yourself flying around with energy that could be going into shields and the sort. Also the little guy can talk to people! Is that their visors or can Donnie’s ninpo allow him to almost throw his voice literal miles away?
Just curious about how your Donnie works! Your AU is REALLY amazing and I look forward to every part! Genuinely you are such a big inspiration to me :3
Also feel free to ignore this if someone has asked it already <3
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Ah-ha! Good catch. For the most part what we see is in fact a projection of whatever pose Donnie is actually making. It's basically just a hologram of him and uses minimal energy since the mystic fragments in the boys' armor is doing most of the work for him (this includes voice projection, because *mystic science* and I'm lazy). He just can't go very far from them since it's their armor that is projecting him.
However, we do get to see one other projection of him in the latest chapter. Namely the "Mini Donnies."
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If the Donnie projection we usually see is similar to a "live feed" then these little guys are more like animated gifs. They're basic images of him used as indication markers for his brothers. Had this scene been fully animated you would have seen that these little versions of Donnie are just doing a back and forth 2 frame hammer animation. That way his brothers could see if he was mending all the spots on the shield. (Sure they couldn't see the backside of the shield but boy was panicking haha.)
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As far as Donnie laying down that is TOTALLY something the real Donnie is doing right now. Bro went and exhausted himself then crawled back through Leo's portal in a much less flashy fashion. He's probably laying on Raph's pillow pile back in their dorm now. Thanks for your question!
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kithtaehyung · 1 year ago
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u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg
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3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣
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explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩
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“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 
“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 
Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 
“Barbie was great and you know it.” 
“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 
“I got this.” 
Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 
“Yeah, probably.” 
Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 
The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 
“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 
“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 
“So is the jersey?”
“I have two of these.”
“…I will never understand you.”
The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 
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If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 
Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 
It’s magical. 
But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 
Ugh. 
At least he’s carrying everything. 
“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  
“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 
“The lights are so nice, though.” 
“Uh huh.” 
After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 
And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 
“Hey! You made it!” 
Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 
As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 
“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”
“For what?” 
“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 
Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 
When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 
“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.
“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 
“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 
“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 
“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 
His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 
Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 
Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 
“Yoongi! You, too?” 
Huh? Him, too? 
“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 
Hot? What could possibly be—
Oh. 
Fucking.
Hell. 
It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 
And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 
You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 
Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 
How the fuck are you supposed to react! 
“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 
Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.
“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 
And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 
“Why?” 
“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 
Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.
But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 
“And you dressed basic for what?” 
Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 
Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 
But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 
“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 
“Won’t help you, doll.” 
Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 
Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 
“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 
Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 
And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 
Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 
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You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 
Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.
And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  
Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 
Shit, you can’t do this. 
If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 
But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 
You [10:02pm]: what🥺 
“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 
“Where’re we going?” 
“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 
From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 
Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 
You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕
Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 
Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 
It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 
So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 
You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 
It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 
Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 
Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 
You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 
You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 
This is bad. 
Why can’t he be super annoying instead—
Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 
Well. 
You [10:10pm]: 😐 
Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 
Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 
“I will once you stop sexting.” 
“We are not!” 
“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 
Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 
“A model.” 
He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 
“Yup.” 
Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 
Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 
Why does he have to say all the right things?
You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 
Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 
You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 
You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 
Wait. 
Have you ever been that bold? 
Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 
Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 
And rude. 
You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛
“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 
The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 
Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 
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Nope. 
Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 
Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.
But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 
“You know what’s up.” 
“Dom!” 
“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 
Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 
“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 
“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 
Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 
“He’s not my—”
Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 
“Is he coming?” 
“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”
“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 
Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 
It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 
“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 
What? 
Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.
Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 
But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 
Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 
Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 
Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 
Fuck, what if his hand is better! 
Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 
Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 
But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…
That last card may have just saved your ass.
You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.
“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 
And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 
With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 
Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 
And outside of it. 
While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 
At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 
When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 
After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 
Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 
This is agonizing. 
Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 
Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.
Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 
Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 
Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 
Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 
But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 
He’s not like that anymore. 
But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 
Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 
How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 
Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.
You’d rather be standing together. 
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Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.
Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 
The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 
You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  
“What’s your favorite candy?”
“Chocolate!”
“I like gummi bears.”
Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.
Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”
“Yeah! One sec.”
As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,
“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 
One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 
“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 
Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 
“Yeah!” 
Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 
But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 
“What’s up!”
“Come here real quick!”
When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 
When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”
“Okay!”
Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 
As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 
Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.
Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 
But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 
The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 
“Meow.” 
Oh. God.
Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 
And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 
“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 
“Yes, huh!” 
“No!” 
“Look! I have ears!” 
“No! You sound like a human!” 
“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 
Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 
Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 
One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 
When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 
But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 
“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 
You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 
But what you do know? 
You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 
“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”
Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”
“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 
There’s one other thing you know for sure. 
Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 
Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.
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Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 
An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 
But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 
Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 
To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.
“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 
Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 
“I am!” 
As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 
“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 
Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 
“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 
“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 
Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 
You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 
Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 
Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 
“When?”
“At Hobi’s?”
“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 
“It does—!” 
Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 
“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 
Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 
If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 
More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 
“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.
Your brother was right yet again. 
There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 
Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 
There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 
Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 
Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 
“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 
“Hey!” 
The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 
Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.
And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.
Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  
And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 
“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 
And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 
Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 
Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 
Still a goddamn menace. 
“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 
“I am.” 
“So do something!” 
“Am I holding a basketball?” 
Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 
“Fine.” 
And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 
All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 
“Don’t listen to him.” 
“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 
Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 
“Whose side are you on!” 
“You got something to say?” 
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 
While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 
“No, I’ll make it.” 
He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 
Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 
Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.
“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 
“The haunted house?” 
“Yeah, that.” 
After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 
And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 
While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 
Huh. 
Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 
“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 
Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 
As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...
He’s already walking away. 
And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 
Umm.
What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 
…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?
Motherfucker.
Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 
So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  
But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 
Because he’s watching that dude leave. 
Looking pissed. 
Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—
He’s not—
What is he doing?
He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 
Right?
…This is bold as fuck. 
Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 
“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 
Damn. No subtlety this time?
You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 
But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 
“I should’ve done this sooner.”
“You didn’t know.” 
“Doesn’t matter.”
When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 
Yoongi is actually furious.  
Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 
Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 
They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 
Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  
“Y’all good over there?”
“Yeah.” 
Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 
That’s probably best for everyone involved. 
“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.
And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 
“Okay.” 
No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 
But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 
The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 
Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 
And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.
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The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 
But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 
So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 
Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 
Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 
But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 
Did you feel jealous? Upset? 
To your pleasant surprise, not really. 
Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 
You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 
All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 
A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 
“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”
As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 
So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 
Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 
“You good to go home with your friends?” 
Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 
“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 
“The fuck? On Halloween?” 
He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 
Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 
And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?
Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 
You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 
“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 
“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 
“K.”  
He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 
Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 
Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.
After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 
Maybe you should have left, too. 
Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.
But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 
Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?
Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 
You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..
Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t
Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 
This is it. 
This is why you stayed. 
Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 
Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll
And you will wait forever. 
However long it takes.
You [12:51am]: ok
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It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.
Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 
All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 
But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 
So unfair.
In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 
And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 
Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 
“Come here.” 
“You sure?” 
He hesitates. 
And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 
But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 
What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?
There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.
God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 
But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 
However. 
When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 
“Yoongi…?” 
With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 
Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 
Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 
As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.
And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.
“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”
His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 
“Is that what you want?”
Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”
“Me to suck you dry.”
You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 
His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”
That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.
You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 
“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 
“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”
“Good.” 
You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 
Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.
There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.
And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”
“Yoongi—”
Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 
Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”
“You taste so fucking good.” 
More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”
Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 
“Yoo—”
And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 
For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 
Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.
But you can tell something’s off.
He’s holding back.
Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?
If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.
So what’s with the sudden hesitation?
Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 
“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 
“Please what.” 
“I need you.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 
“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 
Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 
Were they always that loud?
“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 
Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 
Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 
“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 
“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”
“You don’t.”
Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 
Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.
And you’ll let him.
Consequences be damned. 
“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”
Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 
Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.
Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.
“Thought I was boring.”
Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Say sorry then.”
It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”
Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”
Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 
“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”
Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 
All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 
Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”
Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”
“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 
“This wouldn’t get old?” 
“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”
Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”
“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 
He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.
“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 
“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”
“Just make me forget it.”
He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 
And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 
You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.
If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.
But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,
“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 
“Wait, why—”
“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”
Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 
“Yoongi, what—” 
He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 
And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.
You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.
“Baby, you sure?”
“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 
“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 
Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 
“We don’t have to, doll.” 
And if you’re honest… 
The thrill of it is enticing.
“We can.” 
“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 
A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 
“Not telling.” 
Of course. “You suck.” 
Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 
Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 
Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 
And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”
“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 
“No, but—fuck.” 
Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 
“God, you’re so perfect.” 
Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 
“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 
Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 
“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 
Oh. 
You know why he’s holding you so hard. 
And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 
Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 
His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 
But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 
“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 
Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 
So you vow to make that reality. 
“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”
Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 
Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 
Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 
His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 
And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 
Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 
Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 
“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 
Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—
A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 
Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 
Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 
But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 
So fucking unfair. 
Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 
Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 
Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 
And you recognize both of them. 
“—like you said, right?” 
“I know, but…” 
It’s Tae. 
And Jimin. 
“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 
The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 
“You really think so?” 
There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 
Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!
When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  
What the fuck is he doing! 
This man is going to be the end of you. 
“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 
“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 
Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 
And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 
Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 
You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 
Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 
And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 
“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 
“Most of it was your idea.” 
“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 
Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 
“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 
“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 
A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 
“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 
“You just sat on it.” 
“I didn’t sit on that side.” 
Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  
“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 
“Yeah, you’re right.” 
Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 
Adrenaline still at its peak. 
“You’re gonna pay for that.” 
“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 
After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 
“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 
“Do you want to?” 
You pause. 
If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 
But if you stay… 
“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”
“Fuck no.” 
Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 
And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 
So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”
“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 
You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 
Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 
A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 
“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 
Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,
“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 
Holy fuck, what? 
“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“We don’t have—”
“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 
What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 
Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 
When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 
“Sure you didn’t.” 
He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 
Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 
“We don’t have to.” 
Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 
But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 
Fuck. 
Do you really go for it? 
You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 
…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 
“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 
His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 
Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 
“So fucking wet.” 
Fuck. 
“Gonna take this dick so well.” 
Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 
“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 
Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 
Well, you think he’s on the same page. 
Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 
Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 
“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 
You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 
You feel bad. 
And it feels fantastic. 
“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 
When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 
After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 
When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 
“Mmhmm.”
“Good girl.” 
As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 
Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 
Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—
“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.
“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”
Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 
Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.
“Show me up then.”
He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.
Oh, he’s a killer. 
And he’s all yours.
Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.
Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.
Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.
Which is the worst best thing to do. 
“Fuck, doll.”
With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.
“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 
And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 
You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 
“Breathe in for me.”
And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 
Fuck! 
Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 
“Again.”
When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 
“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,
“So good.” 
“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”
Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”
He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”
You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 
“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.
After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”
You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 
And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 
Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.
Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.
How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 
“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”
“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”
He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 
You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 
And definitely other people, too.
But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.
“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”
You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 
And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,
“Then come for me, doll.”
Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.
“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”
And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 
“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”
Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 
“Baby, I’m still—”
“Fuck—”
You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.
“D—”
You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”
“No, but—”
“Take it off.”
Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 
Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 
Because you want this. He’s earned this. 
Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 
This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 
When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 
Yoongi is fighting for his life. 
You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 
And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 
He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.
“Open that mouth.”
You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.
“Goddamn.”
You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.
It looks like he wants to say something. 
But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 
As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 
But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 
As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 
Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 
“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 
His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 
"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 
Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 
And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 
If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.
Even if they frightened you to death. 
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Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 
After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 
With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.
And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.
But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 
When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 
And you dissolve into mush yet again.
Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 
You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  
What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 
Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 
It’s definitely with Yoongi. 
Right now, you know your home is with him. 
Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 
You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 
Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒
Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 
And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 
Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 
He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.
And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.
Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)
Happy Halloween indeed. 
end :)
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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.
++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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yooniivrse · 6 months ago
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healing touches | myg
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summary. sometimes, your boyfriend's tender touches and caring actions help heal your fragile state faster than any medication.
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pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, established relationship au
word count: 2.2k
content: yoongi comes home to find you sick / he makes you food / reader can't help but fall asleep literally everywhere / yoongi loves you too much 😪😪
warnings: very brief mentions of passing out
a/n: im a slut for sick fics and i couldn't find many yoongi ones so i decided to just write one 😋 if anyone has any ideas for fluffy or suggestive yoongi drabbles feel free to drop them in my asks 🙏🙏
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main masterlist
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"I'm home!"
Yoongi's voice echoes through the house and he furrows his eyebrows at the lack of response to his words.
Usually, he would meet you at the lobby of your shared apartment on weekdays, as you would often stay back to grade a few assignments or prepare for the next day. On the days he didn't meet you, he would hear your footsteps as you made your way to greet him, or some sort of noise to prove that you were busy doing something.
But today, there was nothing but silence. Yoongi shrugs it off. You probably just lost track of time.
He makes his way into the living room and places the keys onto the small key holder on the wall.
He begins to remove his jacket but his actions still when he finds you sitting on the couch, a large blanket completely wrapped around you. The TV in front of you was on, but the sound was barely audible and your head was turned away from whatever you had put on to rest against the leather sofa.
Yoongi folds his jacket over his arm as he makes his way over to you.
"Did you get back from work early today?" He asks, placing a kiss on the top of your head.
You groan softly as you stir, slowly moving your head up to look at him through squinted eyes. You were going to whine about how he had disturbed your sleep, but decide against it. Complaining needed energy, energy that you currently lacked.
"Didn't go today. Called in sick."
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and you begin to move out of the warm confinements of your blanket. Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, reaching out his hand to place it against your forehead.
You didn't have a fever, but your words came out dry and broken and there was a clear flush to your cheeks.
"Why didn't you tell me? Are you still feeling sick?"
You nod softly and move the blanket to the opposite end of the couch. You cringe at how your top sticks to your body from the sweat coating your skin.
"I just had a headache in the morning so I didn't think much of it. But after you left, I was like cold all of a sudden so I used the thermometer and it said I had a fever."
You leave out the part where you almost fainted in the bathroom as you changed back into your pyjamas after calling in sick, not wanting to worry your already worried boyfriend.
"You should've called me, I would've left work in a heartbeat," he says as he presses his lips against your forehead.
You ignore the way your heart flutters at his words, failing to bite back a smile.
"It wasn't even that bad, don't worry. Plus, I'm pretty sure the fever pretty soon after. I just fell asleep on the couch."
"Still. Did you take any medicine?"
"Yeah, I took some painkillers for the headache."
You notice how dry your voice is in your throat, wincing at the pain when you try to swallow.
"Did it help?"
"Not really, but I'm fine now so."
Yoongi places his jacket on the couch and makes his way to the medicine box he had placed in one of the kitchen cabinets, having to look through each one before finding it. He takes two tablets and brings them over to you along with a glass of water.
"I'm fine now, babe, seriously," you mumble, reluctantly taking the tablets and the glass from his hands.
"I don't wanna take any chances, love. Drink up."
He watches you as you tip the glass over your mouth and gulp down its contents. You hand it back over to him with a small sigh, and he places it down on the coffee table.
Your eyes scan over Yoongi's body. He's wearing a simple black hoodie, the one you steal from him the most because of how comfy the fabric is.
You reach out your arms invitingly, wanting nothing more than to melt in his arms after not seeing him the entire day.
"I don't wanna get you more sick though," he says, tilting his head as he runs his hands through his grown-out hair.
A small pout forms on your lips and you throw him a scowl.
"I'll get more sick and die right now if you don't cuddle me."
Yoongi laughs at your words. His gums are on display and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons.
"So dramatic," he mumbles.
The leather beside you sinks beneath his weight as he sits down and you instantly wrap yourself around him. His body radiates warmth and you throw one leg over his lap, snuggling your head closer into his chest.
────
You don't quite remember falling asleep, but when your eyes flutter open, the sunlight in the room is replaced by blue rays emitting from the TV.
Goosebumps erupt across your back and you slightly shiver. The space beside you is empty, Yoongi is no longer there to provide you with any heat.
You blame the moody weather for the chills you feel across your body. You were starting to regret throwing away the patterned blanket a few hours earlier, desperately craving the warmth it had enveloped you with.
A few minutes go by and the only thing on your mind is how you were going to die of hypothermia any minute now. You had closed your eyes in hopes of falling asleep again, but your actions went in vain.
You let out a small groan as you turn your head to try to spot the blanket, trickles of pain erupting from your neck.
The fabric sat just out of your reach, and it seemed to mock your weak attempts at attempting to grab it.
You give up fairly quickly and resort to sitting completely still, trying to dull the ache that pulses through your limbs.
You hadn't been this sick in months and you felt as if this was the universe's way of reminding you how miserable it was.
"You OK?"
Yoongi's voice is deep and you look up to see him standing at the doorway to the living room carrying a plastic bag in one hand.
He throws his keys onto the counter and they hit the marble loudly.
His eyes squint against the harsh light of the TV as he sets down the bag and moves towards you.
"Yeah, I was just tryna get the blanket. Where were you?"
He brushes away a few strands of your hair before resting his hand against your forehead.
"Shit, you're burning up. I don't think a blanket is a good idea, love," he says.
"But it's freezinggg."
Your words come out as a small whine. Yoongi's eyes shift between you and the blanket, weighing out both options.
"How about you go to the bedroom and I can put a wet towel on your head, so you cool down while also being under the duvet?"
You practically shiver at the idea of a cold towel against your skin.
"Fine."
Yoongi reaches out his hand and you hold onto it as you stand up. It takes more energy than anticipated and you wince at the throb of pain in your legs.
"Where were you?" You repeat.
"Oh right. I was gonna make you rice porridge so I needed to get some stuff. Apparently it's great for when you're feeling sick."
You smile at your boyfriend and place a small kiss on his cheek.
"Thanks, baby."
"Mhm, no problem." Yoongi's grateful for the dim lighting of the room so that you don't have the satisfaction of seeing the blush that taints his cheeks.
"I'll bring it to the bedroom, you go lie down."
You nod before slowly making your way to the bedroom as Yoongi moves into the kitchen.
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By the time Yoongi comes into the room with a bowl in his hand, you're fast asleep again.
You lie completely curled up and covered by the blankets. Your cheeks are flushed from the incredible warmth you are putting your body through.
Yoongi sits down on the mattress carefully, not wanting to disrupt your peace.
"Wake up, love. Your food's ready."
"Not hungry," you mumble, bringing your knees closer to your body.
"You're not gonna get any better if you stay hungry."
You huff and reluctantly stretch out your limbs. With great effort, you lazily sit up against the headboard of the bed.
Yoongi takes a spoonful of the rice porridge and brings it to your lips. You take a mouthful and swallow it down eagerly.
"Not hungry my ass," Yoongi says with an accusing stare and you laugh.
You can't shake off the warm feeling that fills your heart at the domestics of the entire scene at hand as you take another large bite.
You end up eating the entire bowl but decide against asking for seconds. The need to sleep was stronger than anything else right now.
Yoongi leaves the room to put the bowl back and bring you a wet towel. He returns to find you sleeping again.
Your body must be exhausted from fighting whatever sickness had overtaken you for you to be sleeping this much.
He gently places the towel over your forehead, pressing it down so that it doesn't slip off onto the mattress.
Your brows furrow at his actions but you don't wake up. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, mumbling under his breath.
"Pretty."
Yoongi never thought he would find the one. He believed in love, but the idea of finding someone he could think of as home always seemed too unrealistic, a mere fantasy he would sometimes use for inspiration in his lyrics.
He never thought that the simple thought of someone could brighten his day. Until he met you.
You were chaotic and quiet and everything in between. Someone people could talk to comfortably and freely, someone open-minded and thoughtful.
Everyone seemed to love you, which is why it confused Yoongi whenever you would get flustered at the compliments that fell from his lips.
He thought you would have been used to it. He didn't know how someone could talk to you without showering you with compliments.
When he had told you this one night during the first few months of your friendship—before you started dating—you had laughed, confessing how you rarely ever got compliments. Yoongi still remembers how he had stood there dumbfounded.
Ever since that night, he had made a vow to shower you with compliments.
However, the words soon turned into a habit. They weren't any less truthful, but he found himself whispering them to you even while you were out of earshot or while you slept, like now.
Yoongi stays by your side for a minute longer, simply admiring the way the lamp on your nightstand illuminates your features with its faint glow.
Eventually, he stands up, only to feel your hand grab his before he can take a step.
Your grip is loose and your eyes are still closed, but you lightly tug at the sleeve of his hoodie and he finds himself returning to your side.
"Can you get me the blanket from the living room?"
Exhaustion laces your words despite the numerous naps you had taken throughout the day.
"Aren't you warm enough? I dont want you to have a heatstroke or something."
"I won't, I swear. Please?"
How can Yoongi say no when your voice comes out so fragile and your grip is so gentle. Fuck, you truly did have him wrapped around your finger.
"Fine."
You smile and Yoongi feels his heart skip multiple beats.
Your hand drops from his top and Yoongi retrieves your treasured blanket in less than a minute.
He drapes it over your figure, placing a kiss on your nose as he does so. He fights the urge to immediately slip into the bed beside you, not wanting your sickness to worsen from whatever his clothes may have contracted over the day.
He lazily strips himself and changes into the first pair of sweatpants he sees. He also takes off the wet towel from your forehead, wiping down your face and neck with it before folding it and placing it onto the nightstand.
Finally, he climbs under the duvet beside you. Your body instinctively turns to face his.
Yoongi doesn't expect to feel your lips on his cheek.
"Thank you. I really don't deserve you," you whisper. You drape an arm across his chest and roll onto your stomach, letting out a small moan of pain as you do so.
"You do, baby."
You deserve a lot more than just him taking care of you. You deserve the world itself in your hands and Yoongi knows that if you were to ever ask, he would give it to you in a heartbeat. He would give you the world and so much more.
He leans over your body to switch off the lamp.
"I love you," you whisper, a small yet content smile drawn on your face.
"I love you too."
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glow-in-the-dark-death · 5 months ago
Note
Don’t know if you take writing prompts so if you don’t feel free to ignore this I have an idea for a dcxdp crossover ghost hunger au ( but only if you want otherwise it’s just Danny being able to eat anything and everything literally )ghost prince Danny au Redeemed Vlad au Vlad x Maddie x jack 
 Halfas were mistaken for a lot of things in mythology and being very rare they were often considered the “special ones” of whatever species they were mistaken for and the last halfa before Vlad was the one that inspired the novel of Dracula Yes there are vampires, but the one from the story of Dracula was not a vampire
Anyway, Danny trying to hide from the GIW decides to lean in on the mistaken identity, and what better city to do that in then Gotham, the one rumored to have monsters already patrolling its streets anyway Danny, gets mistaken for a vampire and Danny decides to roll with it setting up shop in an abandoned cathedral while trying to get the undead of Gotham back into the zone ( Grundy, the talons, Jason, and possibly a few others)
And Vlad occasionally has him going to galas for business (and practice for when Danny is the ghost king ) and of course, Danny continues the vampire act there too tone down, but still enough to give off an otherworldly vibe
I love this idea! I think I've only ever seen one other story about fake vampire Danny.
I'm not really able to write an actual story with world building or anything nice like that (trust me I've tried not pretty🫠😆), my stuff is usually just gibberish that I clean up a bit before posting, so I'm really sorry if you wanted an actual mini story.
~
But I'll try to do a little prompt!
~
Tell Me What I Am
There had been some odd rumors going around Gotham.
Those who were more sensitive said that the dead becoming aware, most didn't pay much truth to all that was being said.
Still everyone was more alert feeling like the entirety of Gotham was in the presence of something Other.
~
Jason didn't enjoy going to the galas when he was young and now as the recent 'No Longer Dead Wayne Child" he was forced to go once again.
He looked around trying to avoid all the rich snobs that were trying to push their daughters practically into his arms
He snorted at his thoughts, "Very much not my type."
Distracted he bumped into someone and oh-speaking of his type.
~
Danny didn't mean to bump into someone especially the guest of honor of the gala but it had been a while since he was able to properly eat something that actual filled him up and not just distracted his mind a bit before it came back,
So forgive him for being distracted and-
oh
oh?
Oh!
"You smell divine" he mumbled in between his suddenly overly sharp teeth
"..Wha-Thanks I guess?"
Danny's foggy mind suddenly snapped back into sharp focus once he felt Vlad call for him.
He quickly fled from the man
' Shit I almost bit him what the hell! '
~
Jason thought back to the night of the gala
"Hey B, do the Masters seem...odd to you?"
Bruce glance up from his work
"Did something happen?"
He thought about the sharp fangs suddenly in the young man's mouth alongside his comment feeling almost like prey under his intense gaze that pinned him in place with the sheer hunger and want in them.
How the older man pulled him away but not before Jason saw his eyes flash red for barely a second.
"....Maybe."
~
Just an Idea
Hope this was to your taste Anon!
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nhaaauyen · 5 months ago
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⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)
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PART II: MY HEART DREAMS
zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.
series masterpost: part I // part III // part IV // part V // part V
wc: 7.1k author's note: ahhh tysm to everyone reading!!! your comments literally make my day and the taglist DAMN!! seriously I'm so grateful <3 also i apologize for this chapter being so long, i tried to stfu but it still ended up being 7k
One thing you should've realized sooner was that nothing escapes Sevika's notice in Zaun. 
You were barely a week into your new routine, legs burning as you struggled through your morning run. The only sound you could hear was of blood pounding in your ear—and the addition of a rumbling engine approaching from behind.  
You whip your head back, unsure if your ears were deceiving you but there it was, a truck filled with Sevika's scavenging team catching up, with Sevika herself leaning out the passenger window.
"Pick up the pace, pantry girl!" she shouted, her voice laden with amusement. "At this rate, you'll be old and gray before you join my team!"
Her crew howled with laughter as they sped by, leaving you red-faced and fuming in a cloud of dust.
Now, weeks later, you collapse onto the grass beside Caitlyn, both of you panting heavily after finishing your lap around the neighborhood. The memory of Sevika's taunts still burns, spurring you to push yourself harder during training.
Just as you're about to ask if you should do another lap, something ice-cold presses against your neck. You yelp, jerking upright in surprise.
A dark-haired woman hovers over you, a familiar smirk playing on her lips and a frosty water bottle in her hand. "Still jumping at shadows, I see," she teases. "I'm not sure I can use someone so easily startled on my team."
You glare up at her. "That's rich, coming from you," you retort. "Your late-night victory parties make it impossible to get a good night's sleep around here."
"Feeling left out? The invitations open, you know. Just bring your own drink."
"How about an invitation to join your team instead?"  You counter.
Sevika laughs, the sound was simultaneously frustrating and oddly captivating. "Maybe focus on not tripping over your own feet first, pantry girl."
After you finish your training for the day, you take a quick shower and make your way to the pantry for your shift. But as you approach, you notice something odd - your name isn't on the schedule. Again.
"That's the third time this week," you mutter.
Caitlyn notices your confusion. "Maybe they're cutting back on hours?" she suggests, but her tone is uncertain.
With your unexpected free time, you find yourself spending more time with your makeshift family. Family dinners were something you always had, but for the first time you didn’t have to worry about where or what your next meal would be.
Powder chatters animatedly about her latest inventions, while Caitlyn asks questions that make the kid’s eyes go wild with excitement. Vi listens with a mix of amusement and pride, occasionally ruffling her sister's hair.
Vander sits at the head of the table and he interjects with the occasional piece of wisdom that makes Vi interrupt to remind him that they were too old for lectures or dad jokes, drawing laughter from the group.
As plates are cleared and the conversation winds down, Powder asks to star gaze again, which Vander wants to say no to when everyone has work tomorrow. But then he looks outside and he’s reminded that things weren’t the same, you could afford the leisure to enjoy the skies now.
So you all move to the roof, continuing your evening under the stars. Powder points out constellations, making up stories for each one. Vi playfully argues with her interpretations, while Caitlyn offers more scientific explanations. You lean back, taking in the moment, feeling truly at peace for the first time in a long while.
As the night deepens, drowsiness sets in. One by one, you bid each other goodnight and retreat to your beds.
Morning arrives sooner than you'd like and you meet Caitlyn early, both of you squinting against the bright sunlight as you make your way to the training grounds. The morning sun warms your face as you and Caitlyn wait on the grass for Grayson to arrive with your sparring partner. You're chatting idly, speculating about who it might be when you hear approaching footsteps.
Your eyes widen as you see Grayson walking towards you, but it's the figure beside her that makes your breath catch. Sevika strides across the field, her presence somehow always able to steal your attention. She's wearing dark wash jeans that hug her legs and a sleeveless, tight black tee that shows off her toned arms with her usual red shawl draping over her left side.
Grayson offers an apologetic smile as they reach you. "Sorry we're late. There was a situation to handle."
Sevika merely grunts, barely acknowledging you and Caitlyn. Your heart races—if she was here to watch you were so screwed, there was no way Sevika would let you have a match without her snarky comments. 
"Marcus was supposed to be here today," Grayson explains, "but it seems he's... incapacitated."
You and Caitlyn exchange knowing looks. It's not the first time Marcus has been too drunk to show up, and frankly, you're relieved. Even when sober, he's a total ass.
"So... who are we sparring with?" you ask, though you have a sinking feeling you already know the answer.
Grayson gestures to Sevika. "Someone owes me a favor."
Sevika rubs her head, clearly annoyed. "Can we get this over with?" she grumbles.
Grayson chuckles. "She's just grumpy because she's hungover," she explains to you, then turns to Sevika with a raised eyebrow. "Which you wouldn't be if you didn't drink like it's water."
Sevika scowls, softly as she crosses her arms. "It's my day off," she retorts. "You never come to my parties."
"I drink on my own time," Grayson replies primly, adjusting her stance.
"You're too much of a goody two shoes," Sevika snorts, rolling her eyes.
You and Caitlyn look at each other in shock, from the fact that the two captains are bickering like siblings and they’re going to be sparring with Sevika. 
"Sevika?" Caitlyn sputters. "You want us to spar Sevika?"
"It's better practice for you two - Sevika has years of fighting experience. You can learn some new techniques today,"  She reassures. "So, who's first?"
"I'll get it over with," Caitlyn acquiesced, her voice steady despite the nerves you can see in her eyes.
As Caitlyn approaches the sparring area, Sevika reaches for her shawl. In one swift motion, she removes it, and your eyes widen in shock. Where you expected to see flesh and bone, there's instead a gleaming bionic arm. 
Intricate gears and pistons are visible beneath panels of transparent material, offering glimpses of the arm's inner workings. As Sevika flexes her fingers, you can see these components whirring and sliding with precision, each movement accompanied by a soft, almost musical hum.
Sevika doesn't react to the stares, her face stony as if this reveal is inconsequential. You feel a pang of guilt for gawking, but you can't help wondering - was this a war injury, or a result of the walkers? 
Caitlyn recovers from her shock like you do, now both of you feeling more intimidated by the strength and skills of the woman before you.  You watch as Sevika easily deflects Caitlyn's first attack, countering with a move so fast you barely see it. Caitlyn hits the ground hard, she barely has any time to react when Sevika strikes again.
"Come on, cupcake," Sevika taunts, using Vi's nickname for Caitlyn. 
The use of the nickname catches both you and Caitlyn off guard and she narrowly dodges a punch.  You had no idea how much Sevika had been paying attention to your group.
"Is that all you've got?" The captain says smugly.
As the sparring continues, you find yourself studying Sevika's every move. The way she anticipates Caitlyn's attacks, the efficiency of her counterstrikes, the subtle shifts in her stance.  
But it's more than just her fighting skills that captivate you. It's the fierce concentration in her eyes, the slight smirk that plays on her lips when she lands a particularly good hit. It's the way her muscles flex as she moves, the sheen of sweat that forms on her skin under the hot sun.
You're so lost in your observations that you almost miss when Grayson calls an end to the match. Caitlyn is panting, bruised but not beaten, while Sevika looks barely winded.
"Your turn, rookie," Sevika calls out, her eyes locking with yours.
Sevika takes a menacing stance, her bionic arm whirring softly as she flexes her fingers. You try to quell your nerves, reminding yourself of all your training.
The match begins, and Sevika doesn't hold back. She lunges forward with a quick jab that you barely dodge. Her follow-up kick catches you in the side, and you stumble back.
"With those sparring skills, you'll be dead by now," Sevika taunts, circling you like a predator.
You regain your footing, countering with a series of quick strikes that force Sevika to step back. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't think any walkers would be punching me back anytime soon," you retort.
Sevika smirks, effortlessly blocking your attacks. "There are still survivors out there, some who might not be as merciful as me." she says, suddenly dropping low and sweeping your legs out from under you.
You hit the ground hard but roll quickly, narrowly avoiding Sevika's follow-up strike. "I’m only alive because you needed the meds.”
“But you’re alive regardless?” She counters.
“Urgh, you're the worst, you know that? You just like watching me suffer-"
Your words are cut off as Sevika charges forward. You manage to sidestep, grabbing her arm and using her momentum to throw her off balance. For a moment, you have the upper hand, landing a solid hit to her midsection.
Sevika grunts, a flash of surprise in her eyes. "Well, it's not a bad view," she quips, her voice slightly breathless.
You're holding your own better than you expected, your training with Grayson evident in your improved technique. You even manage to land a few solid hits, each one making you more hopeful that you could finally prove yourself to the captain.
But Sevika is still Sevika. Just when you think you might have a chance, she changes tactics. As she unleashes a flurry of lightning-fast strikes, you are able to block the first few, but the last one catches you off guard, sending you stumbling back.
Before you can recover, Sevika is on you. With a move so smooth it seems almost effortless, she sweeps your legs again and follows you down. You’re on the ground immediately, the air knocked from your lungs, and suddenly Sevika is on top of you, pinning you down.
Her face is inches from yours, her breath hot on your cheek. "There's always next time, pantry girl," she says, her voice laced with arrogance.
Fury and frustration surge through you—at the nickname, at losing, but most of all at yourself for the way your heart races at her proximity. You struggle against her hold, but it's futile—you lost and couldn’t prove you were ready. 
The days blur into a haze of relentless training after the match, your body pushed to its limits.  Yet despite your efforts, something feels off. Each time you miss a target or fumble a move, Sevika's face flashes in your mind. Your focus wavers, distracted by unnameable thoughts that surface whenever you recall her challenging gaze or the smugness in her voice. 
The sharp crack of gunfire echoes across the makeshift shooting range. You squeeze the trigger, watching as your shot goes wide, missing the target by a good margin. Expaseration bubbles up inside you for missing yet again.
Next to you, Caitlyn's sniper barks and the center of her target explodes. Again. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy at her precision.
"Excellent shot, Caitlyn," Grayson praises, her eyes gleaming with approval. "I think I’m looking at my newest sniper."
Caitlyn beams at the compliment.
Grayson turns to you, her expression apprehensive. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted today."
"No, I'm fine," you mutter, trying to focus on the target in front of you.
Grayson raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Well, if you keep shooting like you did today, you can expect another month before Sevika would even consider accepting you on her team."
At the mention of Sevika's name, you can't help but frown. Grayson catches it immediately.
"What's wrong?" she probes, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.
You hesitate, then the words tumble out. "I just... I don't get her. I don't know how to convince her I deserve that spot on the team when she's so infuriating and stubborn."
To your surprise, Grayson laughs, a warm, rich sound. "She hasn't changed since we were deployed together, then."
Your ears perk up at this. "You were deployed with Sevika? Can you tell me about it?"
Grayson shrugs. "What is there to tell? We were in the military together for 10 years and she's a brilliant soldier."
"That's all to her?" you press, not satisfied with such a simple answer.
Grayson gives you a long, appraising look. "What is it that you really want to know about her?"
The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, then close it again. What do you want to know? But more importantly, why do you want to know? You realize you don't have an answer, and the realization unsettles you.
Seeing your confusion, Grayson's expression softens. "Sevika is not the best fighter," she says quietly.
"What?"
Grayson chuckles at your expression. "Don't get me wrong, she's an advanced and skilled fighter. But she's not unbeatable." She pauses, her eyes distant as if recalling memories from long ago. "What makes her different... She is loyal and fierce. That woman fights till her very last breath. If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her."
Your mind whirs at this information. Who is Sevika beyond the soldier everyone knows her as? You find yourself hungry for more details, more glimpses into the woman behind the tough exterior.
Then you catch yourself, anger flaring up. Why do you care? Why does it matter who Sevika really is? She's just the leader of the scavenging team, nothing more.
You shake your head, trying to clear these thoughts. "Thanks, Grayson," you mutter, turning back to the target.
As you raise your gun again, you can feel Grayson's knowing gaze on you. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the target. But in your mind's eye, all you can see is Sevika—her cocky grin, her ruthless determination, the mystery that surrounds her.
You squeeze the trigger, and this time, your shot flies true, hitting just off-center. Progress, but not perfection. Much like your understanding of Sevika, you realize. You're getting closer, but there's still so much more to uncover.
⁺˚⋆。°✩
A slight breeze rustles the leaves as you wait by the usual tree, checking your watch. Caitlyn's late, which isn't like her.   You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes already and this was the Caitlyn, the one who’s never even been late to a shift at the pantry.  
You’re about to turn back to the house when suddenly you hear shouting from the road a few blocks away. Without thinking, you immediately sprint towards the commotion.
When you arrived, the scene before you was the last thing you would expect—Caitlyn and Vi were in each other's faces, their voices rising with each exchange. A burly guy from Sevika's crew is half-heartedly trying to separate them.
"You fucking liar!" Caitlyn screams, her face flushed with anger. "Why would you join without telling me?"  
You momentarily pause from trying to pull the fighting couple apart, in all the years you knew Caitlyn she had hardly cursed; Vi must’ve fucked up, bad.
Vi's stance is defensive, her hands raised. "It's safer for you this way!"
"Safer?" Caitlyn's laugh is bitter. "I didn't ask for a white knight, I asked for a partner that's honest!"
The guy from Sevika's crew steps between them. "Come on, ladies, this ain't the place-"
Caitlyn whirls on him. "How could you let her in Sevika’s group like this?"
He backs up, hands raised. “Listen, I had no part in this. Vi was the one who asked, and Sevika accepted her."
Caitlyn's face contorts with anger, and she lunges forward. You jump in, grabbing her arms. "Cait, stop!"
But as you hold her back, his words sink in. "Wait, WHAT?" You turn to Vi, shock evident on your face. "She accepted you to join her scavenging and not me?"
Vi looks away, guilt written across her features. Your blood boils. You release Caitlyn and round on the guy. "Where the HELL is she?"
He crosses his arms, defiant. "I don't have to answer to you."
You step closer, your voice low and dangerous. "Oh, trust me. You want to tell me."
He hesitates, then sighs. "Fine, but it's your funeral. She's in her garage."
Without another word, you turn on your heel and march away, leaving Caitlyn and Vi to their argument. You had your own annoying, lying woman to deal with.
The garage comes into view, its large door open. As you approach, you catch sight of Sevika bent over a motorcycle. Her back muscles flex as she works, visible beneath a black sports bra. Her jeans hang low on her hips, revealing the band of her boxers. For a moment, you were unable to comprehend the sight of Sevika in clothes that weren't military green. 
You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before addressing her. "Vi and Caitlyn are out there fighting. I thought you should know."
She turns, surprise briefly flickering across her features before her trademark nonchalance slides back into place. "And that concerns me... how exactly?" she questions, wiping her hand with a rag. "Last I checked, I wasn't running a relationship counseling service."
"Because of all the bullshit you gave about me not being ready? Why won't you let me on the team?" you demand, your voice cracking with desperation. "You let Vi join. What makes her so special?"
"You don't know what you're asking for."
"Then tell me!" you shout, stepping closer. "I'm sick of your cryptic bullshit, Sevika. I deserve to know!"
Something in Sevika snaps—Her composure shatters, replaced by a raw, barely contained fury. "Fine? You want to know why?" She grabs your arm, her grip tight enough to bruise. "Let's go."
She drags you out of the garage, marching through the community with large strides. You struggle to keep up, confused and a little scared by this sudden change in her demeanor.
As you reach the outskirts of the settlement, Sevika slows down. You follow her gaze and feel your blood run cold. Wooden crosses stretch out before you, maybe 20 to 25 of them, each marking a grave.
"This is why," Sevika grits.
You stand there, frozen, as Sevika turns to face you. Her eyes are blazing, but there's something else there too - something melancholic you've never seen before.
"Do you know how many empty graves we have?" she asks, gesturing to the crosses. "It's a fortune if you're able to bring a body home, or if you can spend someone's last moments together."
She walks among the graves, her fingers trailing over the rough wood of a cross. "This is the type of thing we have to deal with. Every time we go out there, we risk not coming back. And if we don't come back, this is what's left of us. A wooden cross and a memory."
"I've had to bury too many people. I've had to tell too many families that their loved ones aren't coming home. And sometimes, I couldn't even give them that closure."
She turns back to you, her eyes now hard, and gone was the brief moment of vulnerability you saw before. "This is why I won't let you on the team. Because I can't... I won't add another cross to this field."
The weight of her words hits you like a physical blow. But instead of understanding, you feel a surge of anger.
"So what?" you snap, surprising both yourself and Sevika. "You keep me locked away like I'm Rapunzel in a tower? Look around, Sevika!" You gesture wildly at the desolate landscape beyond the settlement. "There is nothing left to lose. The world is gone!"
For a moment, she's silent, and you think you might have finally gotten through to her. But then her expression hardens, a bitter smile twisting her lips.
"You can say that," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "until you have the world in your hand and it's ripped away from you."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You see a flash of something in Sevika's eyes - a deep, soul-crushing resignation that makes your anger falter.
"There is always something to lose," she continues. "And every time you think you have nothing left to lose, life finds a way to prove you wrong."
She steps closer to you. "You think you're ready to face what's out there? You think you have nothing to lose? Trust me, pantry girl, you have no idea what loss really is."
"What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?" you challenge, your voice rising. "This isn't living, Sevika. It's just... existing."
Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "You don't understand-"
"No, you don't understand!" you interrupted, shoving her back. "We're all going to die—But I'd rather die out there, trying to do something I wanted, rather than rot away in here!"
You’re angry and you know you just provoked her but you can’t help but shove her back again, frustrated at her but, even more so at yourself.  You were terrified, of fucking course you were—but who wasn’t in the world you were living in? 
With a growl, she lunges forward, shoving you hard. You stumble back, shock and anger coursing through you. Without thinking, you retaliate, pushing Sevika with all your might.
The two of you grapple, a tangle of limbs and fury. Grass and dirt kick up around you as you roll on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sevika's bionic arm hisses as she tries to pin you down, but you're quicker, fueled by frustration and pent-up emotion.
With a burst of strength, you manage to flip Sevika onto her back. You straddle her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, which fall limp immediately. Both of you are panting heavily, faces flushed and hair disheveled.
"I won," you gasp out, your chest heaving. "You promised. If I could beat you, you'd let me join."
Sevika looks up at you, her expression unreadable. "When will you learn patience?" 
The proximity is intoxicating, and for a moment, you're distracted by the feeling of Sevika beneath you, the rise and fall of her chest, the intensity in her eyes. 
"You can't expect me to live like this," you insist, your voice softer now but no less passionate. "What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?"
Something flickers in Sevika's eyes—pain, fear, or something else entirely. Without warning, she bucks her hips, throwing you off balance. In one smooth motion, she shoves you away and stands up.
You scramble to your feet, ready to continue the fight, but Sevika's next move stops you cold. 
"Sevika!" you call out, your voice cracking. "Don't you walk away from me!"
But she doesn't stop, doesn't even look back. 
You're left standing there, alone among silent tombstones and empty graves, watching her retreating figure disappear into the gathering dusk.
⁺˚⋆。°✩
The weight of defeat settles heavily on your shoulders as you stumble into your room. You collapse onto your bed, fully clothed, as the scene replays in your mind. Sevika's face haunts you - not her usual cocky smirk or searching gaze, but that fleeting expression of raw pain you glimpsed just before she walked away.
There's something deeper, a hollowness in your chest you can't quite name. It's more than just the sting of losing an argument or watching her retreat. 
There was something else in her eyes that truly unsettled you—that flash of fear when she looked at you, as if dreading you might become another one of those wooden crosses she would have to mark.
Just as you're about to drift off, a sudden burst of loud music jolts you awake. Shouts and laughter follow, unmistakably coming from a few blocks down—right where Sevika's house is located.
You groan, pressing your pillow over your head. Of course, another one of her infamous parties. But as you lie there, listening to the distant sounds of celebration, a part of you can't help but wonder what Sevika looks like when she's relaxed, surrounded by her team. 
After an hour of futile attempts to sleep, frustration wins out.  You sit up, running a hand through your hair in annoyance. You throw on a hoodie and stomp towards the door, grabbing the nearest pair of slippers without looking.  
The cool night air does little to calm your irritation as you march down the street. You pound on the door, ready to give her a piece of your mind.
To your surprise, it's Sevika herself who answers. Her usual scowl morphs into a grimace as she recognizes you, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight of her throws you off balance—her gray wife beater clings to her frame, and her cargo pants are smeared with what you hope is just mud. Despite the mess, she looks... good. Annoyingly so.
"Do you know what time it is?" you demand, trying to focus on your anger.
Sevika takes a long drag of her cigarette and then blows the smoke out slowly. Her eyes drift downward. "I like your slippers," she remarks.
You glance down, mortification washing over you as you realize you're wearing Powder's pink bunny slippers. "Shit," you mutter, but quickly shake it off. "Why do you have to be so loud? This might come as a surprise but some people are trying to sleep!"
"Worried you won't get enough sleep to organize properly tomorrow?" Sevika taunts, leaning against the doorframe. "Make sure you don't mix up the soup and fruit cocktail cans."
Her dismissive attitude ignites your temper. "Fine, whatever. You're acting like a complete ass," you spit out.
Sevika's eyebrow raises slightly. "Is that all? Because if so, I've got a party to get back to."
You're about to retort when you catch a glimpse of the interior of her house. It's a mess—empty bottles strewn about, gear haphazardly tossed in corners. 
"What?" Sevika's voice snaps you back to reality.
"I... nothing," you stammer, taking a step back. "Just turn the music down, okay?"
Sevika studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turns and disappears into the house. A few seconds later, the volume of the music noticeably decreases.  Sevika.. Was being obedient? 
She reappears at the door, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Anything else?" 
You open your mouth, then close it again. What else is there to say? That her apparent disregard for what you want infuriates you? That her words about from earlier today won’t leave your mind? That despite everything, you find yourself drawn to her in a way you can't explain?
Instead, you just shake your head. "No. That's... that's all. Thanks."
As you turn to leave, Sevika's voice stops you. "Wait."
You pause, looking back at her expectantly.  You notice that there is a hesitancy to her this time, like you were fragile and if she got too close you might shatter.
"Wear proper attire tomorrow, okay?" she says, her tone businesslike. "And check in at the armory with Vi."
You blink, confused. "Vi? What does she-"
Sevika cuts you off with an exasperated sigh. "Do I really have to explain it to you, rookie?"
"Yeah, cause I don't get it," you retort.
"You're on the team."
For a moment, you just stare at her, unable to process what you've heard. Sevika refuses to meet your gaze, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.
As realization dawns, a wide grin breaks out across your face. Sevika immediately cuts in, "Don't think I'm going soft on you and giving you anything you want. This is an easy spot, but-"
You can't help the shit-eating grin that spreads even wider. "Thank you," you say, your voice sincere despite your obvious excitement.
Sevika just nods, her expression carefully neutral. "Yeah, okay. Now get out of here before I change my mind."
You nod enthusiastically. "Right. Yes. Thank you again. Good night!"
You turn and walk away, trying desperately to keep your cool. But as soon as you think Sevika has fully closed her door, you can't contain yourself anymore. You do a little excited jump right there in the street, pumping your fist in the air. Then, grinning like a fool, you take off running towards home.
What you don't see is Sevika, still standing in her doorway. She watches your celebratory dance with a mixture of disbelief and something akin to fondness. Shaking her head, she finally closes the door, a small, bemused smile playing at the corners of her lips.
⁺˚⋆。°✩
The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the farm as your team arrives. The dilapidated barn looms ahead, its red paint peeling and faded. Overgrown fields stretch out to your right, while a rickety fence encloses what must have once been a thriving chicken coop.
Sevika's voice rings out across the coop.  "Alright, gather the chickens."
You blink, certain you've misheard. "Wait, what?"  
You weren’t expecting your first mission to be on a farm, much less to gather the animals. But your confusion is quickly overwhelmed by the sight of your teammates scattering, chasing after a flock of very startled, very loud chickens.  
"How do you expect us to get food?" Sevika asks, her tone matter-of-fact.
You turn to her, eyebrow raised. "Why aren't you helping?"
The air seems to still as everyone freezes, shocked by your boldness. Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously.
"I'm your captain," she states, as if that explains everything.
A reckless grin spreads across your face. "What? Afraid you can't catch a single chicken in front of your people?"
Sevika's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you wonder if you've pushed too far. Then, to everyone's surprise, she vaults over the fence and into the coop.
"You have a mouth on you," she growls, eyeing a particularly plump hen. "That's going to get you in trouble one day."
You hop in after her, heart racing at how she easily accepted your challenge. "Only if I'm caught," you quip back.
The two of you circle the hen, which clucks nervously. You lunge forward, but the bird darts away.
"You're scaring it!" Sevika snaps.
"Me?!" you retort. "You're practically harassing the thing!"
As you both scan the coop for a chicken that wasn’t running like it had its head chopped off, a voice pipes up from outside the fence. "They’re bickering like an old couple!"
In perfect unison, you and Sevika whip around, shouting, "Don't you dare say that!"
The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze, looking at each other in shock, and then it’s replaced quickly with a scowl as the determination to capture the chicken sets back in.
Okay, so barreling at full force towards the animal was not the way to go considering everyone was already filling their cages.  You mentally devise a plan to corner the chicken, gesturing for Sevika to move to the right while you go left. But as you both rush forward, the hen squawks indignantly and darts between you in a perfect straight line.
Unable to stop your momentum, you and Sevika collide, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. You find yourself pinned beneath her, acutely aware of her weight, her warmth, the scent of her body wash and gunpowder that clings to her skin.
Sevika pushes herself up slightly, her face inches from yours. "This is dumb," she mutters. "I don't need to prove anything."
"Mhmm," you manage, your brain short-circuiting from the proximity.
She grunts, rolling off you and standing up. "There's one last chicken," she says, brushing dirt from her clothes. "We better get it."
You turn your attention back to the task at hand, scanning the coop for that last elusive hen. The last hen clucks nervously, darting between the wooden beams of the coop. You and Sevika exchange a quick nod, wordlessly agreeing on a strategy.
Sevika crouches low, her movements slow and deliberate as she inches towards the left side of the coop. You mirror her actions on the right, creating a human barrier. The hen's beady eyes dart between you, sensing the trap.  
"Easy now," Sevika murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 
The hen makes a break for it, but you're ready. You lunge forward, herding it back towards Sevika. She reaches out, her fingers just brushing the chicken's feathers—
A deep rumble suddenly echoes across the farm, stopping you both in your tracks. You both freeze, exchanging a brief, confused glance. In that instant, the barn door explodes outward with a deafening crash. Splinters of wood fly through the air, unleashing a horde of walkers that stumble and lurch towards you.
"Fuck! Run!" someone screams, and chaos erupts.
Your teammates scramble to grab their chicken cages, but you're transfixed by the sight of Sevika, who's inexplicably clutching the chicken she just caught to her chest with her left arm. Without thinking, you grab her right hand and bolt, pulling her along.
As you run, weaving between broken fences and overgrown crops, the absurdity of the situation hits you. Here you are, fleeing from a walkers horde, hand-in-hand with your usually stoic captain who was so dead set on capturing a single chicken she risked a few minutes just to get it. Suddenly, Sevika bursts out laughing, a rich, genuine sound you've never heard before.
"This is so fucking stupid," she gasps between chuckles.
Her laughter is infectious, and soon you're both giggling like maniacs as you sprint towards the getaway car. The wind whips through your hair, you look over at her and see her tiny ponytail bouncing, her eyes sparkling with unadulterated joy.
As you approach the car, you see one of your teammates dancing in the driver's seat, bobbing their head to music that was loud enough you could hear it from a distance.
Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is that moron doing?"
"Start the car!" you yell in unison with Sevika.
"Start the fucking car!" echoes from all directions as your team converges on the vehicle.
In a mad scramble, you and Sevika end up diving into the trunk together, barely missing from crashing into each other. The car peels out, tires kicking up dust as you make your escape. You twist around to look back, seeing the walkers crest the hill behind you, their grotesque forms looking like ants as you get further away from the farm.
As the adrenaline starts to fade, you become acutely aware that you're still clutching Sevika's hand. You both look down at your intertwined fingers and quickly release a faint blush coloring your cheeks. 
You glance at Sevika and are struck by the sight of her wide grin, revealing the charming tooth gap from the first time you met her. She looks lighter somehow, the usual weight of responsibility temporarily lifted from her shoulders.
"Maybe you should put the chicken in the cage," you suggest, nodding towards the bird still tucked under her arm.
"Right," Sevika says, quickly stuffing the bewildered chicken into a nearby cage.
Free of your feathered companion, you lean out of the trunk slightly, letting the wind rush through your hair. The music from the car's speakers drifts back to you, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the smell of the woods and the high from the adrenaline rush.
When you open your eyes and turn back, you catch Sevika staring at you. She's not looking at the receding farmland or checking for pursuing walkers. Her eyes are fixed solely on you, an unreadable expression on her face. In this moment, bathed in sunlight and the afterglow of survival, she looks different. Softer. There was no reminiscent of the super soldier you knew her as.
As your eyes meet, Sevika doesn't look away. Instead, her grin softens into something more intimate, more real. You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, a feeling you can't quite name but don't want to let go of.
The car hits a bump, jolting you both and breaking the moment. Sevika clears her throat and turns to secure the chicken cage, you weren’t sure if had imagined the smile or not.
As you return to Zaun, the adrenaline from your narrow escape fades into a collective sense of relief and camaraderie. The team works together to unload the chickens, and despite the close call, everyone seems to be in high spirits.
"Hey, how about another bonfire party?" someone suggests, and a chorus of agreement follows.
To your surprise, Sevika turns to you. "You should come," she says gruffly. "You’re part of the team now."
"Yeah, sure," you reply, fighting to keep the eagerness out of your voice.
As the team disperses to prepare, you notice Vi sprinting towards a certain someone waiting for her at the entrance. "Caitlyn!" Vi shouts, throwing herself into Caitlyn's arms and kissing her passionately.
You raise an eyebrow. "Well, those two made up fast," you mutter to yourself.
Later that evening, you find yourself seated on the cool ground in front of a roaring bonfire. The flames dance hypnotically, casting flickering shadows across the faces of your teammates. The air is filled with laughter, the clink of bottles, and the rich aroma of smoke and grilled food.
You're nursing a beer, listening intently as the others regale you with stories from previous hunts. Sevika sits not far from you, perched regally on a lawn chair. She's quieter than the others, but you notice her lips quirk up occasionally at particularly funny or outrageous parts of the stories.
As the night wears on, a cool breeze picks up. You shiver involuntarily, the chill seeping through your thin shirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sevika glance your way. Without a word, she shrugs off her shawl and leans forward, draping it over your shoulders.
The gesture catches you off guard. You want to thank her, but something in her posture tells you she'd rather not draw attention to the act of kindness. No one else seems to have noticed, and you wonder if this is just how Sevika takes care of her team—quietly, without fuss or expectation of gratitude.
You pull the shawl tighter around you, inhaling the faint scent of cigarettes and gunpowder that clings to it. 
The conversation lulls for a moment, and then someone pipes up, "Hey, remember that time at the hospital in Piltover when we-"
"Uh," another teammate interrupts, glancing nervously at Sevika. "Sevika’s here."
All eyes turn to your captain. Sevika just grunts, taking a long swig from her bottle. You can't tell if it's approval or indifference, but the storyteller takes it as permission to continue.
The crackling fire seems to dim as the storyteller begins, his voice low and reverent. "It was before Zaun was established. Sevika, Silco, Grayson, and some of us old veterans had been cooped up in the hospital for weeks. But it was time we got out, find new people and a place to stay."
You lean in, curious, sneaking glances at Sevika, whose face remains impassive.
"The hospital was completely surrounded," the storyteller continues. "But we had weapons and vehicles. Silco had this completely badass idea to add extra defenses to the ambulance in the garage."
A chorus of whoops erupts from the group, and you see a flicker of pride in Sevika's eyes.
"The plan was to pile as many people as possible into the ambulance. But in the garage," The storyteller's voice drops. "There must've been an opening or something. Somehow, those bastards found their way in."
You find yourself holding your breath while Sevika's face is impassive, but you notice her grip tightening on her bottle.
"It happened so fast. One second Silco was up, the next he was down, a walker lunging for his throat. And Sevika," He shakes his head in awe. "She didn't hesitate. She threw herself between them."
All eyes turn to Sevika. You glance at Sevika, trying to imagine her and the emotions in that moment. 
"Go on," she says. "Finish it."
The storyteller hesitates, unsure. "We had to go back in. We cleared the area, but the walker's teeth sank into her arm instead of Silco's neck." the storyteller says softly. "Even then, she didn't stop fighting. She bashed its skull in with her free hand, then turned and took out two more, saving a few more of us.  But the bite meant she was infected…"
There's a collective intake of breath around the fire. You feel a chill that has nothing to do with the night air.
His voice trails off, and Sevika finishes for him. "So Silco ended up amputating my arm," she states.
"When I die, I'll die on my own accord.  Not because some mindless corpse decided it was my time."
The silence that follows is profound. You see a mix of awe, respect, and a hint of fear on the faces around you as Sevika's words hang in the air.
Then, as if a spell is broken, cheers erupt. "Fuck yeah, boss!" someone shouts, and others join in.
Sevika just grins as she stubs out her cigarette and stands.  “I’m calling it a night, try not to have too much fun."
You remain rooted to the spot even though you know you should go give the shawl that's still draped around your shoulders back.  
As you’re watching Sevika’s retreating form, you're struck once again by how little you truly understand her. Just when you think you've got her figured out, she does something that shatters your assumptions. Her rare, genuine smile from moments ago was like a crack in her armor, offering a glimpse of something you're not sure you were meant to see.
You recall Grayson's comment; If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her. But Sevika isn’t just dragging anyone down—she's fighting, clawing her way up. She’ll endure whatever comes, as long as she’s the one who gets to forge her own path.
Sevika faced death itself, and she emerged victorious.
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lovehotelreservation · 2 months ago
Text
Nectar
Summary: As your royal bodyguard, Laios was to ensure that not a hand was to fall onto you, the princess.
But what was he to do when exposure to some potent pollen has him desperate to have his hands all over you?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: F!Reader/Laios
WHO'S READY TO GET EATEN (OUT) 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️
This piece has been a long time coming ever since I hosted a special poll on my Tumblr where I had my readers vote on my next lewd piece--from character to kink to trope/AU, all were determined by my dear hotel guests !!! Thank you all so much for your patience and for joining the fun !!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ I've been meaning to dive into DunMeshi (and Laios's pantalones) so this was the perfect opportunity to finally do just that !!!
I appreciate you all as always and I hope you enjoy !!!
-------------
There was a fruit that Laios wanted to eat.
Not to be found atop a bushel on the streets of a bustling market, nor to be served as an appetizer at an upscale restaurant.
This particular fruit was one of a kind–locked away in a garden, access reserved exclusively to only a select and chosen few, hidden within the brush of a storied grove.
Given his notorious taste for the most bizarre ingredients literally cut fresh from a dungeon’s depths for the simplest of meals, such a specific and normal craving was rather astonishing.
But Laios didn’t want to simply partake in this specific fruit.
Rather, there was this cavernous base urge to hunt down this fruit, scaling whatever length of tree as needed to seize–to lunge if needed–the delectable treat with his very own hands, dragging his tongue along its surface for an indulgent lick before sinking his teeth in for a juicy mouthful.
He didn’t even care to wash or wipe the fruit down before feasting away. Any speck of grime and dirt would only add to the flavor–if anything, imperfections on the purity of this snack served to stir his appetite all the more, a deep-seeded hunger that had gnawed at him damn near endlessly at this point.
However, attaining this singular delicacy was not going to be easy in the slightest.
While his monthly pay of coin for his services as an appointed guard to the care of the kingdom’s princess was nothing to scoff at, he wouldn’t be able to even attempt offering to buy this rare fruit.
For it was less about accumulating enough wealth and more about how he was forever shackled to the circumstances of his poor, humble upbringing.
Fated to be barred from this fruit’s taste, he was instead made to linger around the perimeter of the garden that housed this delectable treasure, to always be within reach but bound to have his hand chopped right off if he ever thought of plucking this sweet for his own famished desires.
It was a conundrum surely, one that he–reluctantly–had made his peace with for some time.
Up until a sudden shriek from afar suddenly shook Laios free from the serenity of his continued contemplating.
On a day like any other, he was to escort the princess to the outskirts of the kingdom to oversee the crops of the imminent harvest. His upbringing as the son to proud farmhands made this visit feel akin to a homecoming. He was always happy for the chance to see his parents along with–if lucky–his sister Falin should she be home from her continued studies of the arcane arts. Though, he was most thrilled at the prospect of offering facts of the natural bestiary and the gaminess of their meat to the intrigued ear of the princess.
Your ear.
And while you, the queen to be, were usually so happy to take in well of knowledge that Laios had to offer, he couldn’t help but notice on this particular day that there was this anxious energy that seemed to shadow over you like that of a bride veil, one that simmered beneath your usual graceful demeanor.
Having been under his guard and protection as his charge for years at this point, you trusted him deeply. He knew this to be undoubtedly true.
Yet there was something about your behavior throughout the day that demanded solitude–any opportunity to be alone, you were quick to take. And while unlike the stuffy and pushy advisors that often fussed over every breath you took within the castle, he respected your independence as an individual, seeing you for who you were rather than the shine of the crown on top of your head.
Still, as your bodyguard, he couldn’t allow you to stray too far away from him.
And yet for every step he took to close the gap, you only seemed intent on maintaining distance.
It was puzzling certainly, and while he wanted nothing more than to gain further insight as to what brought about this odd change in your attitude, he was far more worried with your current wellbeing.
His feet carried him as far as he could, past the vast fields of crops all the way further out past the farmlands. He cursed at himself for letting you out of his sight, all while wondering how you managed to give him the slip in the first place.
However, he would address that matter later. For now, he was set on finding you.
While his familiarity with the immediate area served as a reassuring foundation for his search, there was now the facet of determining just where you would have wandered off towards. While he took into account where you–adorned in frills and jewels–realistically could have made it out to within the time span since he last saw you, he thought back to any places of interest where you most likely would have gone.
His amber eyes quickly scanned across the horizon–either a pond that wasn’t too far out into the distance, a road that one could follow to a neighboring farm, or a somewhat maintained path that led to a field of white flowers.
The faint, distant sight of ivory petals immediately caught his attention and reignited his memory.
“–and besides supplying various cheeses for the wintertime fondue, this region’s other key offering is none other than the lovelily!”
Laios was all broad smiles and pride as he concluded his explanation.
You were all twinkling eyes and curious as you repeated his last word.
“‘Lovelily’?”
Happy for the chance to elaborate further, he proceeded to mime out the shape of the flower (horribly) with his hands. “Yes! The very same flower once used in ancient rituals for fertility–now it’s more commonly used for love potions! Potent ones at that! You know, as I think about it, I think the stems tend to not grow that tall…”
As his focus shifted more to the accuracy of the height of the flower that his hands were representing, he didn’t notice the way that the curiosity in your eyes soon changed to something far more calculating.
But of course!
His destination determined, Laios jetted himself forward towards the field of lovelilies–a sea of white blossoms that stretched far and beyond. Gaze darting around for any sight of you, he continued to shout out your name as he rushed through the vast spread of flowers.
Lovelilies were used for love potions for a reason. Their signature pink pollen is potent with aphrodisiac effects, making them the ideal candidates for their prior use with fertility rituals in times long since past.
By this point in the season, the flowers were harvested of their pollen by local apothecaries, so he at least had one less thing to worry about.
Still, just an immediate scan around the field yielded no sight of you, which only deepened his already heightened anxiousness.
Up until, at long last, he heard the muffled response of his name as he approached the center of the field.
Immediately he gazed down, and like an apple that had fallen from the tree, his eyes came across a rather deep ditch in the ground.
Deep enough to house you right within its depths.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Laios immediately dove in for your rescue. As he landed on his feet, he looked forward. Given the time of day, he still had a decent amount of light shining down within the darkness of the ditch, blessing him with the sight of you sprawled upon a bed of lovelilies. Joyed relief quickly across his features as he called out your name once again while he knelt before you.
“Are you alright–?!”
“Sir Laios!” You gasped in relief, even as your voice quivered so. “Please forgive me for leaving your sight and causing worry! I–!”
Laughing jovially, he held up his hand and waved it from side to side. “Worry not, princess. A little curiosity never hurt–”
It was at the second push in the air by his hand that he caught sight of a familiar shade of pink that floated by his face.
He immediately froze, soon realizing just where you had landed in: a ditch of unharvested, fully pollinated lovelilies. 
Tension gripped him as fiercely as he held onto you upon scooping your body into his arms.
“Princess! Hang onto me and hold your breath!”
You did as told, scrambling to wrap your arms around his neck while he worked to haul the both of you out of the ditch, all while doing his best to avoid inhaling the pollinated air as well. While it took a bit of maneuvering, a few slips while clawing at loosened soil, he was able to securely bring the two of you back onto solid ground.
However, with one issue handled, he was immediately checking over you in a flurried panic, his hands cradling your face while his mind raced back to what usually consisted of typical symptoms of lovelily exposure.
“How do you feel? Any pain? Discomfort?”
His palm pressed against your flushed cheek, a notable warmth permeating off of your skin. Before he could examine further, you meekly spoke up in response,
“I think…I may have hurt myself when I fell…”
You shifted your leg forward, wincing as your voice trailed off, your breathing becoming shallow.
And it was that expression of pain that had him quickly springing to action once again.
Formality, order, manners–all were immediately consumed by ferocious protective instinct as Laios seized the hem of your dress skirt and yanked it high up and over his head. 
He sought out for any sliver of blood or purpling bruise, his gaze darting along your leg for possible injuries sustained.
Higher and higher, his eyes continued to trail upwards.
All the way until his focus shifted towards right between your thighs.
Hues of soft pink caught his gaze, a notably sweet scent drifting by his nose.
There, spread all across the fabric of your panties with a few dustings along your inner thighs was a thick layer of lovelily pollen.
Though he was relieved to see that overall you didn’t seem to be significantly injured by your descent into the ditch, he once again found himself stuck in place.
With your dress skirt still enveloped over him, he was entrapped within close proximity to the infamous aphrodisiac ingredient. Instinct and knowledge of the flower’s effects roared at him to move, to at the very least hold his breath, yet he could not.
He refused to.
He was much too captivated, too entranced to do so.
The sight and scent of the pollen was one matter.
However, what truly beckoned for him to push his head closer up in-between your thighs was one particular scent.
Not that of the sweet lovelily pollen. 
It was something headier, a unique musk that enticed his senses, drawing his mouth to water.
And the source of that delectable scent was currently being obscured by flimsy fabric.
He just had to get a better smell of it.
His hands reached for your legs, large and calloused hands gripping them by the sides all while he immediately planted his face right in-between your thighs, his nose pressed right against your clothed core. He inhaled deeply, groaning out in delight upon exhaling at your natural scent.
He suddenly felt hungry–no, famished was much more appropriate.
His thoughts were becoming muddled, his initial intention of remembering the exact effects of lovelily pollen exposure quickly becoming lost amidst the dire need to satisfy his own cravings. Before he could act further however, it was the sound of your voice that suddenly had him snap out of his reverie.
“S-Sir Laios…”
The shudder in your voice quickly had him shoving himself out from under your dress. Immediately, his darkened eyes sought out yours, his face hot and red, his breath ragged.
What he saw was a near identical expression from your end: cheeks burning with scarlet, breath also struggling to steady itself.
With his attention captured by you, he watched as you brought your hand to the front of your gown, seizing at the material while you gasped out, also seemingly at odds between coherent thought and bodily desire, “It would seem both of us are sweltering in our respective attire.” With your other hand, you reached down to cup his chin, smiling sweetly at him, flustered and all. 
“Shall we do something about this heat together?”
Laios grabbed at your hand, bringing your palm to his lips before pressing another kiss to your wrist as he breathlessly affirmed,
“As you wish, princess.”
It was one last expression of proper decorum between the two of you–him, your trusted bodyguard, and you, his precious charge–before you both descended into an animalistic frenzy right amidst the sea of lovelilies.
A mess of frills and jewels laid to the side while Laios was far from fully stripped of his armor, his chest piece and undershirt tossed some ways away. Though his erect cock throbbed painfully within the confines of his breeches, he had undoing the strings to his trousers last in his mind, his priority first and foremost being to run his tongue all along the sopping stickiness of your core.
He couldn’t get enough. Every slurp, every suckle, every wet smack of his lips–even nudging his nose along the wet length of your slit for a better indulging of your scent, his insatiable greed knew no limits, encouraged further by the quiver of your thighs and the whines of his name from your lips.
It was hard to pry himself away from your inner thighs, especially with each orgasm he drew you towards. Even when he finally yielded to your pleas for him to finally strip off his pants, he still was adamant with feasting away at your core, fondling your ass as he kept you close to his face, all while you were positioned right on top of him, your mouth and hands clumsily handling the thick girth of his cock with earnest kisses and strokes.
How could he possibly think about stopping when the fruit he craved to eat was finally presented to him?
Or so he thought.
The taste of your core was most certainly going to impose an insatiable addiction moving forward.
However.
It was as the two of you were tangled together, his large stocky build weighing down onto yours while his big cock pumped in and out of your core’s velvety depths that he finally had a sample of what he truly sought out most.
“Sir Laios…!”
The euphoric call of his name had his focus shifting right to your face.
Right as your hands rested on his cheeks, guiding his head downwards so–for the first time–your lips could press against his for a kiss.
A simple sweet display of affection.
Yet one that scorched through him so much more significantly than any other touch exchanged between you both.
The taste of your lips had him shudder and gasp out your name, all while he was all the more compelled to slam his cock into you with furthered exuberance, the desire to flood your core with the hot and heavy load of his seed all consuming.
It would be some time until the two of you would finally work your way through the effects of the pollen.
It would be a far, far later problem for you both to explain just where exactly the two of you had disappeared to all day and why your clothes were in such disarray.
But for now, and what would remain to be true well after–pollen’s influence aside–was one blessed reassurance: You were just as hungry for him as he was for you.
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meanbossart · 11 days ago
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ASK COMPILATION: BODY HAIR, BHAALIST DU DROW, BLOOD INQUIRIES, THE MAN'S DICK AND HOBBIES.
Answering more asks! As always, I want to apologize for not being able to get to everyone - literally nobody has ever complained about it, but I still feel bad 😅I appreciate everyone's questions and sweet messages all the same, and even if your ask isn't here I hope you can be entertained by the other replies!
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Anon I feel terrible about having to say this because I can tell you were hoping for a specific answer here, plus doing your very best to sell your pitch to me -
But DU drow hates body hair.
I'm not making this up in the spot just to be a contrarian, this is one of various unimportant character details that have come up already at some point or another, for whatever reason. It is no coincidence that many of the characters he finds unattractive do have visible body hair, like Gale and Halsin whose hairy toes he dreads the sight of.
I refuse to believe that elves are truly dolphin-smooth as that would be an absolute biological nightmare, so both him and Astarion have a normal amount of peach-fuzz all over. Otherwise, DU drow finds the sight of anything longer/coarser than that unseemly, and the feeling unpleasant; it is simply what he grew up with and hence what he's used to. In this respect, he wants people who take after his own image.
As with most things, he could forgive it if he were in love with someone - assuming you don't mind the occasional joke about it. And unfortunately I think something as significant as Halsin's case would be too off-putting for him to ever give them a chance. A Shadowheart situation, on the other hand, he could grow to like.
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I believe there's some sources that imply bhaal-corrupted(?) blood should taste a particular way, leaning towards the unpleasant. People can make up whatever headcanons they want with that information, BUT since I spent over half of this game supplying the guy with the stuff and he seemed all too pleased about it, I choose to assume it's not that bad.
I think there would be something... Lively about it? Fairly normal taste but it leaves a tingle on his tongue, like it squirms on its way out and dies in his mouth moments before it can hit the throat. Very salty, but it could just be his skin.
[FAR, FAR MORE UNDER THE CUT]
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Bhaalist DU drow likes both cats and dogs just fine (again, he considers the animal kingdom to be it's own thing and hence removed from his fate to butcher humanity) and you wouldn't be wrong to assume he has a thing for dogs in that AU because of their unconditionally loving and loyal nature, however Bhaalist DU drow is still very much a cat person. He likes their independence, their little attitudes, their self-sufficiency, plus the fact that they keep the rat population in check inside the temple. He finds those qualities admirable, respectable, perhaps he would even find them desirable in a partner if, unlike he cats, he wasn't so opposed to them roaming free.
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In-game DU drow succeeded the check required to spot Astarion before he could jump him - so yes, just not the version where they end up rolling awkward around the sand for 2 minutes, LOL.
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He's semi aware of it, or at least he becomes aware whenever Astarion's mask slips. When Astarion is putting on a good performance, DU drow wholeheartedly believes it. Also, It's worth noting that Astarion does manage to have fun occasionally, and have periods of... Superficial happiness? They just so happen to be unfulfilling, and don't make up for all the other pitfalls of his situation when they inevitably come crashing back. He's also great at tricking himself into thinking this is a good time.
Bhaalist DU drow makes vague attempts at "making things better" whenever he catches him in a mood, usually through physical affection or lavish gifts. That works well enough the first year I think, before everything kind of loses its luster. After that, DU drow just gets it into his head that Astarion "doesn't understand what he must do to succeed and keep him safe".
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This is a VERY interesting observation and... Maybe? Especially early in the relationship, DU drow finds Astarion's quasi-predatorial behavior very attractive, but only AFTER he notices his vampirism. I think this outlook of the character contextualizes Astarion's condition in a way that he can immediately understand and simpathize with, even if DU drow doesn't know much about vampires themselves. Of course, this is specific to Astarion - he does not extend this grace to the rest of his kind.
I'll be thinking about this one!
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I don't know the video in question but from your description I think they would both be VERY confused, LOL.
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HMM, I think that might actually depend on a lot of things! Assuming the woman (or just the other partner) in the relationship isn't a drow, and exactly what KIND of devotion we're talking about (is the drow pro-active? Protective? Does he put his neck on the line for this relationship with pride? Does he seem strong and capable and like he doesn't rely on his partner?) he might see enough of himself in him that they could actually get along. This is similar to how DU drow immediately took a liking to Aylin even though she's this moon-goddess child and a supposed beacon of justice.
The quickest way to get on DU drow's good side is to be the idealized version of what he believes himself to be. Oh, and not get in his way.
If they're both drow it's kind of hopeless though, yeah LOL.
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Planning on it!!
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DU drow never slept with Haarlep! He only took his clothes off and then attacked him full in the nude.
...I'm not sure how to justify that in the lore, but it's exactly what I did and it's too funny to take it back, LOL
I think Astarion was just kind of baffled by what transpired until DU drow turned to while hopping around pulling his pants back on and asked if he enjoyed the show, then he remembered he just loves finding any excuse to take his clothes off.
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That's a lovely compliment, I definitely go for a very "organic" look so I genuinely appreciate it. Thank you!
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Thank you!!! A lot has actually been said about Gortash in my #enver gortash tag, if you'd like to get all the gritty details. Suffice to say that they had a very odd but significant friendship.
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DU drow is the kind of person who shoots awake as soon as the sun starts gracing the sky, but he tends to do whatever he has to do and then go back to bed right after, and stay there at least a bit past noon. He did this both in his bhaalist days and in Astarion's company, though the amount of time he spends asleep during the day definitely increases because of the vamp, especially over time!
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So, the urethra in a penis is located pretty much on the underside of the shaft, so the wound actually does not reach it! As far as functions go - peeing and ejaculating - it comes out of the tip's opening as normal. When he first caused the wound it probably did puncture the urethra, but that would have closed up over time. What you see is the injury many years after the fact, after all.
So the implications are pretty minor. Aesthetically, his foreskin hangs a bit weirdly when he's soft (like a tiny little penis curtain) and has more give than usual. Functionally, he has spots within the scarred up injury that are either numb or overly sensitive. Also, you can kind of see the dickhead notch through his underwear which is fun.
Otherwise, that is pretty much it! No worries about the nature of the question I've gotten worse, LOL. Thank you for your kind words as well!
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I think he used to write in his bhaalist days - very, very occasionally mind you - like if you scoured the temple you would find a dozen or so ripped up pieces of paper with little short poems on them, written in a very sharp and carefree hand. Anywhere from 3 to 10 lines per-poem, usually less than more. The sentences are descriptive of actions, never feelings or thoughts, but they don't ever seem literal.
Back in those days, he also went to the theater every other year.
Post-tadpole, he ends up dabbling in carpentry, leather-work, and enjoys listening for musical numbers taking place in taverns and inns to go to and watch. He eventually starts pulling Astarion into little slow dances when that happens. I think he might end up writing again someday, but not for many, many years.
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