#how am i supposed to respond to this lmao
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nobodybetterlookatme · 2 months ago
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What a totally normal and completely hinged thing for someone to say 🫠
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doctorsiren · 9 months ago
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Thinking about how last night, at 1 AM, my sister (who isn’t into Ace Attorney) and I were at ihop, and I was very tired and my ADHD meds wore off hours before, so I was rambling about Ace Attorney and trying to explain to her why I don’t believe Gregory Edgeworth was 5’9. I was trying to tell her that, at least in my head, he was 6 feet tall.
And she goes “You say he’s 6 feet? Yeah, 6 feet underground” and I didn’t know how to respond
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ask-the-candy-clerk · 17 days ago
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this is from a part of a video that was uploaded to YouTube. The specific clip is called “Slimecicle Dramatically Reads ‘How to Defeat an Ostrich’”
"...Okay??"
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xoshepard · 8 months ago
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accidentally leaving someone on read bc hes interviewing for a new job (awesome!) that has potential that he'll become a manager (great!!) at a fucking defense contractor (killing tearing biting ripping violence violence violence!!) and idk how to stop myself from saying "glad youll finally get out of your current shitty job but sorry to hear that youre going to be a direct contributor to the war machine! :')"
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clits-and-clips · 10 months ago
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Still mentally smashing my head into a wall about being called a chubby chaser
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imperfectcourt · 2 years ago
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Not me just now realizing people have tried messaging me here and I just never responded bc I did not realize it happened like an ASSHOLE
I promise if you've ever messaged me and I never responded it was bc I'm a dingdong I never ignored on purpose 🥺
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nerdyfangirlingbooks · 18 days ago
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Is there a word for the opposite of internalised homophobia? When someone's normalised queerness so much in their head that they don't realise they're queer themself?
Like bi people not realising they're bi because when faced with homophobia their reaction is something along the lines of "who cares what gender someone else dates, why does that even matter to people? How is that a defining part of a relationship anyway? What are you supposed to do, just not like someone because of their gender?" only to eventually realise there's a reason they can't understand how gender could ever be a defining character trait for anyone in a relationship and it's because for them it isn't. But that is apparently not, in fact, the case for a lot of people
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springsylph · 4 months ago
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sometimes you’re fine and sometimes you get a comment from someone on ao3 saying that they “hope you want to keep writing” and “people continue to find your work”
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creekbed-burial · 4 months ago
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I might be dumb but i at least can tell when someones lost interest in me (he sent me just emojis two messages in a row, its over yall)
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bensiskos · 1 year ago
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Sorryyy I need somewhere to put my rage
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kithtaehyung · 18 days ago
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minted: three (explicit) | myg
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title: minted: part three (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: masterlist | one | two rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: at this point, you would do anything to forget. including the unthinkable with a gangster. note: sooo this series basically saved my writing slump haha. i am still having the time of my life and i’m so excited to show y’all more of this minted universe. and to also show you just how spicy things can get❤️‍🔥 note 2: this is ofc a present for hali @sailoryooons that spiraled into a whole universe. still always gonna thank nary @joonary for letting me use the vendor reader idea, as well! also happy birthday to @remmykinsff @awbells @keylime4eva @aaclariww and @noshit-cantfindagoodone!! to everyone else having a bday around this time, this is my gift to you hehehe. warnings: language, drugs, alcohol, slow burn, murder mentions, gang activity, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, chains bc of course :)), world-building, reader is still sassy, yoongi is still infuriating, tension explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: december 9th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 12.3k 😀👍
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explicit warnings: i know it’s a slow burn but there’s definitely smut lol, choking, head/hair tugging, penetration, oral (f rec), backshotssss, marking bye, rough sex, ass play, breast play, his hands are a nice necklace😀, taunting cus reader’s an icon, thighs, breath play, spanking, hand job, protected sex, multiple orgasms, restraints (his hands, robe tie), brat!reader but who is honestly shocked🙂‍↔️, brat tamer!yoongi lmao, yoongi is a menace i’m sorryyyy, but reader is…?????, need them both™, teasing, rawdogging HELLO?? (pls wrap it up fr!), commanding yoongi a ha ha, pain kink, cowgirl🙂‍↕️, this is just the calm before a whole damn storm
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“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  
This is it.
The brink of no return.
Your soul dips into the dark.
“Please make me fucking forget.”
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Did you go too far? 
Is there a limit to his accommodation? Did you actually think this was gonna be easy? 
When silence swirls between your robes, you start to second guess your demand. 
But Yoongi simply stares before stepping aside, allowing you to enter his room with jellied legs. 
This is madness, but you’re gonna go through with it. Whatever the hell this will be. Because you may not know much, but you figure all men sit up the same when sex is on the table. 
This man, though... 
Quite frankly, you aren’t sure about anything when it comes to him. Unless it’s about him doing something questionable. Then there’s no question about it.
The enigma himself makes no conversation as you step inside, even as your eyes roam around a cleaner, more put-together room than when you left the first time. Did Yoongi clean this much while you made a mess of your dreams? 
The only answer you get is a door shutting, followed by a massive presence at your back. Before you can so much as turn around, the first words on your shoulders burn like embers,
“Was he your first.” 
Fuck. 
This isn’t what you approached him for. He’s supposed to make you forget, not remember. Remember?
You don’t turn around; you don’t respond right away. Instead, you swallow before focusing very hard on the fact that Yoongi sleeps on the bedside nearest the window. At least, judging by the way the covers are flipped. You happen to prefer the side opposite.
The heat from his body proves soft but intense, and you can’t help but close your eyes when you finally answer with a question, 
“Do you remember yours?” 
“Yes.” 
“Do you ever regret it?” 
“No.”
Your vision lowers to the rug lying still under the bed. A splash of light grey amongst a darkened, moonlit sea. 
No matter how quick Yoongi answers. No matter how even his tone. 
He still remembers it, too. 
But this isn’t what you expected when you walked in here. You assumed this man was going to get right to it, save no room for you to second guess yourself. Clearly he gave zero shits about kissing you in that taxi, and he damn near undressed you in the living room. 
So what’s the holdup here? Does he want this for real? Or not? 
Head at a slight angle, you admit with a hint of finality, “I don’t wanna talk about that.” 
“Mm.” A warm, rough hand subtly tugs at your belt, and prominent knuckles nudge through the smooth material of your robe. “So what are you really here for.” 
Your eyes blink thrice. 
Yoongi cannot be serious. Does he really not know? 
No. He knows. With a shift of your jaw, you realize he’s just fucking with you, purposefully not in the way you want. “You’re being difficult.” 
“You woke me up.”
Ah. That’s fair. 
“So tell me.” 
Well. If you’re gonna have to spell things out for him, he’s gonna be waiting for awhile. Because the more you stand here not doing anything, the harder it is to gather a little thing called courage. Courage to meet the beast in his den, and madness to let him devour you whole. Now you have neither. Neither, neither, neither.
Awkwardness sticks to your throat until it’s jammed, and you can barely mush your lips together to form sounds. The courage you speak of flees before you can wrangle it, and what’s left of your answer tumbles out like boulders, “This is.. I don’t.. I can’t.” 
“You can.” 
“It’s,” you huff, noting that you don’t like this horrible mix of hesitation and anger, “It’s… I’m—” 
Your vision jolts as you feel a quick tug shit you’re spinning fuck your back just hit a wall—
“Of all things today,” Yoongi murmurs with slits for eyes, “This is what gets you to shut up?” 
Damn it. 
You don’t even have a rebuttal. Because he’s right. Yoongi’s sharp discernment is millimeters from your face and you have no intention to move nor speak. Only quick breaths. Only shaky exhales. 
But you do swallow.
Which brings out a sound you will never admit you like: a breathy, condescending laugh, as coarse and as soft as his touch. 
“You mean to tell me,” he observes, tilting your chin while his irises blaze dark, “You came all the way in here for nothing?”
“No, I—”
“All that talk, and for what.” 
Defend yourself. Say something. Say just one word two words any words—
Did Yoongi just pat your cheek? ..Twice? 
Why did you kinda like that—
“Makes no sense,” he ponders aloud, lolling his head and staring down your crumpled lips. “Who even are you..” 
Now that's an easy one. You always have the answer to that question. 
“No one,” you whisper. “Sorry to disappoint you.” 
Seems like the people back home aren’t the only ones you’ll let down. If Yoongi keeps that question loaded in the chamber, he’s gonna keep shooting the same target. Over, and over, and over. 
But you don’t have to worry. Because he drops it, caging you in with a hand near your stiff, risen shoulder, “So what are you here for.” 
This is a mistake. Either Yoongi doesn’t want this, or he’s being frustrating on purpose and your fire is both stoked and quelled. “Now I don’t know for sure.” 
“The more you stall the harder it gets,” he goads with a lick of teasing. And for a split, minuscule second, you wonder if that meant more than one thing.
Goddamn, he’s annoying. He’s outright savoring this. 
Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. You woke him up for god’s sake. If someone did this same thing to you after the day you’ve had, you wouldn’t have even let them in. 
Unfortunately for you, Yoongi’s version of dealing with a midnight inconvenience is whittling them down until they leave— 
“So you can tell my bellhop off but I get nothing, huh.” 
Oh, shit. 
Oh, shit. 
You’re so taken aback that you can only ask, “What?” 
Mercifully, the dragon gives you air, straightening before leaving your personal space. 
Your focus should be on his words. You know this. But he uses this moment to rake his hair, and words are no match for the sleeve cascading down his inked forearm. 
Even as his hair flows in waves, you still cling to his tattoos as he looks downward in thought. “You think I wouldn’t check who the fuck was coming up here?” 
It takes you a second to process. 
But you realize what this means and you fall silent again.
Yoongi saw that? All of that? You acted without much thought, and if he really did see and hear everything that went down, there’s a chance he thinks a lot differently about you now. No wonder he’s so thrown by this switch in behavior. 
But on the other hand.. The way he touched you in the living room. Was all that because of what he saw? Is that side of you the one that pulled him close? 
You thought his parting would allow you room to breathe. How very wrong you were. 
Shoving all contemplation aside, you decide to coat the room with concern, your assertion making a brief comeback, “He said a lot of shit, Yoongi. What was that about?” 
He languidly approaches the long table at your side—one you faintly noticed while leaving the room the first time. Unbothered, he slides unhurried fingers over a gun, stopping on the barrel before reaching for something less lethal. 
A decanter, it seems. Liquid flows from the container into a smaller glass, and you assume it’s whisky from the deep amber tones and luscious pour.
When you wonder where else Yoongi litters his weapons, he cuts through your surveying, 
“You really wanna know?” 
Looking up, you nod. 
He sets the bottle down with a dull clink. “He took his chances.” 
“His.. What?” 
Now what the hell could this man mean by that? You were clearly being coaxed into leaving the premises, vaguely feeling like something seemed off. How is he being so dismissive about all this? 
Slowly, Yoongi shakes his head, looking out into the night while taking his initial sip. “I don’t come here often. But when I do, I come alone.” Long fingers nestle his cup perfectly as he explains further, “It’s been awhile, so. Had to feel out the staff.” 
The staff. Is that why Yoongi held your hand? To weasel someone out? You really thought he meant it when he said he just wanted to… 
How naive. 
“His plan could’ve been solid.” 
“But what?” You ask, newfound frustration clipping your tone. 
Yoongi slides you a look over the rim of his glass. “He didn’t know who he’d be dealing with.” 
Your eyes roll so far they strain.
But this begs a question. Does he mean dealing with you? Or him? Surely he meant your little show at the elevator but he could very well mean himself. 
Facts are facts. Would Yoongi really trade il-don for you? Absolutely not. So you have to assume he’s mostly talking about the latter. 
Your scoff is pitched to the side, “Of course. You wouldn’t trade il-don for anything.” 
Yoongi pauses, not acknowledging your comment in the slightest as he strolls back your way. “Something I am curious about..” As he leans in, musk and whisky invade both your space and senses. And you hate, hate, hate that you need more of it. “Who was he talking to?” 
“Someone he royally pissed off.” 
“Mm.” 
“You’re not gonna punish him?” 
“Me? Nah.” Leaning on the sideboard, he stares out the windows across the room. Your vision follows suit. “Not until I have to.”
If what happened wasn’t enough to warrant a punishment, you’re morbidly curious about what ticks the box. “I figured he’d be dead by now. At least for trespassing.”
Yoongi only shrugs. “Grey zones aren’t just amnesty for the clans. Anything goes here, too, so a ransom attempt isn’t surprising.” 
This man really doesn’t stand on black or white. Here you are with eggs for brains discovering you were almost taken instead of saved, and he’s chalking it up to, what, just another Tuesday? Or is it still Monday? You don’t even know anymore. 
Your question leaves you a little scuffed. Because you feel exactly like leftover goods. The fruit at the back. “Are you always this heartless?”
“So I’ve been told.” 
Great. 
So much for being… Safe up… here… 
You glance at the touch on your hip, and your eyes traverse up his arm as he toys with your belt again. 
Shouldn’t you feel disgusted? Shouldn’t you be walking away? It’s crystal clear how little this man thinks of you, or anyone for that matter. He probably brought you along just to be a shield for his precious il-don. So why can’t you bring yourself to leave? 
Your knot starts to loosen.
His voice begins to flow.
“But if you’re gonna go for what’s mine, don’t be an idiot.” 
Wait.
No. Nope. Stop thinking about what that could mean. Because if you think too hard, it will only leave you disappointed. 
But there’s something you won’t stop doing. And Yoongi knows you won’t. So as he keeps playing at your waist, your words come out in shudders, 
“Can’t believe you used me.” 
Yoongi hums, and it makes you shiver when his touch leaves you to rest against wood counters. “You’re about to use me, too.” 
Fucking hell, he’s right. 
“Gotta say I didn’t expect it, but..” Damn him and his head tilts. “I’m impressed.” 
You’re too empty-headed that you can’t even process his words as genuine praise. His touches already feel like pops of lights in the night sky.
It’s a given. You aren’t prepared for him in the slightest.
“Come here.” 
Lightly pulling your hand, Yoongi brings you to stand in front of him. And from this point of view, you become even more ensnared. 
His robe flows down his taut build so beautifully, painting him like dark water over rolling hills. At his peak, the hair you’ve come to miss frames his face like artwork. Mesmerizing. Your downfall. 
“You get one more chance. Tell me why I’m awake.” 
Your brow lift is only a front. The rest of you is shaking, trembling, howling. “You clearly know.”
“Tell me anyway.” 
Relentless. Will you shame yourself for wanting to see him use this same strategy on other people? Most likely. But will that stop you from thinking about it anyway? Absolutely, positively not. 
But there’s another side of you that’s being comforted. And it’s the side that realizes how much he’s spoken, how much time you’ve spent without needing to watch behind your back. 
Yoongi talking this much? It’s making things easier. And it’s strangely making you feel a little better, even if the subject matter isn’t the greatest topic in the universe. 
After you steal a glance at the other whisky glass, you look into his eyes. Determined and decisive. Knowing exactly what you want at this very moment, because you just need a little more time. 
“Tell me more. About grey zones.” 
Something in the air freezes. And Yoongi’s brows crease so comically you almost laugh. “That’s it?” 
“Yes.” 
His nod is slow as he sets down his glass.
And you’re quickly hauled back so fast that you don’t have time to react. 
A rush of air. The world topples. Soft sheets. 
Dangerously, a thin chain sways above as Yoongi shrouds your body in silk and lingering smoke. A gasp escapes you as he peers into your eyes, and your senses fire as a commanding hand slides up your thigh. 
“Final answer?”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck you know you want him and you still do but also talking to him isn’t half bad and maybe you’re just tired of being lonely— 
Musk. Alcohol. Breathing hard, you take it all in. Slowly nodding because you can’t function otherwise, which makes a dragon flash teeth. 
But he obliges without moving a muscle, so you’re left underneath a demon—robe dangerously close to opening and exposing everything once again.
A man of conviction, Yoongi does exactly as you ask. Eyes drooped, he continues his explanations, as if he didn’t just shove you into his enormous bed and tangle you under his legs, 
“They started awhile ago, back when all the high-powers got locked in a grudge match. Took half the city with them.” 
Immediately, your shoulders start to sink into his tale. “Half is a lot.” 
“Everything went to shit,” he agrees. “Not even the Politicol could stop it all.” 
“Bullshit.”
His level expression is enough to refute.  
Now that’s a shock to learn. For as long as you can remember, the Politicol have always held more power than any force should ever have. If they weren’t able to keep this under control, the high-powers used to be ungodly. 
Staring at the slippage on Yoongi’s shoulder, you wonder if those ink lines are to immortalize the ones that came before him. The history he must’ve grown up memorizing. 
Still.. Why does he have them all? There’s no way he doesn’t know how disrespectful that is to all three clans. 
But then again. He said he didn’t choose them himself. Which leads you nowhere in this unending maze. 
Head disheveled; robe coming undone. To outsiders, you’d be at Yoongi’s mercy. 
But in reality, you’re laser focused on him and his explanations. Especially when his voice scratches every itch just right. “So…” You watch his gaze slowly slide down your face. “What happened?”
Even now, Yoongi’s hands stay exactly where they are. The only thing that moves is the tinkling swing of his silver above your warming neck. “Deals were made, stripping power from all of them in certain sectors so that none could completely take over.” 
“Why only in certain ones?” 
A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Let’s just say the negotiations went how you think they did.” 
Your eyes roll yet again. But another question pings into your mind as quick as the first one, knitting your brows. “Wait… Deals with the Politicol? Or each other? No way they would’ve let cowards put them all on a leash.” 
At this, something interesting passes over Yoongi’s face.
But it flits away before you can snatch it for further inspection, and the shift of his leg against your thighs resets your brain. 
“Any of the clans could’ve monopolized if they had the right resource, but. They weren’t ever gonna let outsiders get a piece. Called a truce and kept their mouths shut.” 
Makes sense. You know exactly what resource he’s referring to. “The il-don.” 
“That’s part of it.” He shifts again, but this time, your legs have more room to move. “But grey zones have priority infrastructure. The ones that keep the lights on. If you had the money, you had the people. And people are the best resource there is.” 
It’s at this moment that a lot of things click into place. 
And one of those is figuring out that you may have been a little wrong about the man above you. 
Is he heartless? To a high degree. But that comes with being calculating. Patient. Smart. Everything that Yoongi has been this entire time you’ve tagged along. 
He’s not keeping the il-don safe because he treasures it. It’s because the money is a tool. A tool to help him get what he wants whenever he needs. And leverage it for value instead of frivolous decisions and material things. 
Yoongi must have really, really enjoyed your tangerines.
A stray touch finally makes its way inside your thigh. And you flare between your legs. Shivering. Aching. You’re sparkling inside but won’t allow yourself to fully explode. Not when he’s revealing so much without telling. Not when you’re starting to see things from his angle. 
“Keep talking,” you rush out, gripping his robe and squeezing his pelvis. 
Though his fingers still light flares on your skin, Yoongi stops in his daring quest, observing your face without judgment. 
“I like it,” you shakily admit. Because screw it, since you’ll never see him again. “Learning about all this.” 
You sigh at his weight. His beautiful, strangely calming weight. “About you, too.” 
Stopping all movements, Yoongi coats your skin with gravel. “What good will knowing all this do.” 
He’s got a point. And it hammers home exactly what you were just thinking. “Nothing, maybe,” you answer, squeezing his robe a little longer. 
Fuck, you really are this deprived. This lonely. Is bedding a dangerous man—this dangerous man—really better than being alone right now? A mental reset is outstandingly in order throughout the coming abysmal months.
You finish your weak explanation, hoping it’s enough to convince him, 
“But it’s helping.” 
Yoongi lifts his head to watch your eyes. And you observe how dark his are in return. How cold. 
But yet.. Why do you also see…?
With a slight huff, you tack on, “And you aren’t so annoying to talk to right now.” 
There it is. That spark you’ve seen before in dusty, tinkering streets. “Don’t push your luck.” 
“I might.” 
He exhales, shifting himself into a sitting position and facing the door. “The thing about grey zones.. No affiliation, no rules. You can be anyone here.” 
When you lift your upper body to sit, you watch his side profile as you repeat, “Anyone?” 
Yoongi turns to look at your lips. 
You know there’s a question you want to ask. But for some reason, it’s difficult to say. 
But eventually, you can’t help it. Because you’re intrigued. You’re haunted. And you really, really need this. 
“Then who do you want me to be.”
He lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Looking into your eyes, he asks in disbelief, “You?”
“I’m pretty good at pretending.” 
“Sure you are.” He gives you another small grin before resting forearms on his knees. “But you don’t want my answer to that.” 
Swallowing is proving too difficult. What the hell does he mean by that? Is it one big bluff or a real opinion? “You’re just being a pussy.” 
All you get is the side of his cheek rising high.
Yeah. He’s not gonna tell you a damn thing. 
“Forget about me then. Who are you right now?” You wait as his expression falls back to earth. “Agust? Or Yoongi?” 
When you end with silence, you’re met with an approaching shadowed visage. And even in this moment, you sense static in the air, both of you poised and locked in a dangerous, thrilling dance. 
“You tell me.” 
Your breath cuts as he slips a finger inside your robe, and you dare not breathe when he pulls—slow, unhurried, intoxicating. 
You’ve never felt quite like this. 
Are you supposed to do something, too? Is there something that usually happens here? Your experience isn’t zero but it is clearly leagues below where it should be. 
Before you can blink a third time, your garment is ever, ever so slightly off your shoulder.
And you haven’t uttered a damn thing.
So he keeps going, sliding it lower, and lower, until he reveals a part of you that you didn’t mean to reveal so suddenly before. 
This time, it’s deliberate. And that makes it terrifying. 
This is the point of no return. The slope of your chest barely keeps your robe from dipping any farther. It’s happening, and life between you will never be the same when it’s over. 
And yet. 
Your nerves speak up at the worst time.
“Get me a drink,” you whisper, “Then maybe I will.”
Yoongi flicks up an eyebrow before obliging, and you silently mourn the loss of his heated touch. 
He walks over to pour you something neat, taking his time bringing both glasses to the bed. When you sit up properly, you habitually adjust your robe, scoffing at his hum. 
“Thanks,” you whisper, taking the glass and smelling the piercing aroma. “Maybe this is what I needed all along.”
“You ever had sex before?”
The question is so sudden and blunt that you cough up a burning sip. “Ow, fuck..” Wincing, you wipe your mouth before breathing in scratchy inhales. “If you must know, I have.”
“Maybe you are good at pretending then,” Yoongi drawls. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Don’t get me wrong. This situation is new to me.”
His brow raises are definitely talking a lot for him. 
“I’ve just never.. I dunno. Never had just one night.” Taking a more cautious sip, you continue. “Much less with someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“With a.. You know.” You fiddle with your glass. “A customer.” 
When you hear his reaction, you stare at his raised cheek, stomach fluttering when he sighs downward,
“You can’t just say shit like that.” 
“I can say whatever I want,” you counter. “Especially since I…”
You don’t wanna finish that. It helps that Yoongi doesn’t look your way still, taking a sip of his whisky instead. His locks swing forward as he leans, and you almost reach out to feel them. Maybe you’ll get to very soon. When you finally get over this final hurdle of outright shyness. 
Why are you so timid right now? Why can’t you just tell him what you very obviously came in here for and get on with it? You’ve been decisive as fuck the rest of today, so what’s got your tongue pressed this time? Is it really your abysmal level of experience?
Or is it because you’re gravitating to more sides of him with each passing second? 
“Since you what.” 
“Since I don’t like you,” you snip. 
Yoongi flashes teeth in amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.” 
“Oh, shut up.” You take another drink, feeling the burn down your throat. “I don’t have to if it’s true.” 
Both of you keep drinking in silence after that. Which makes things a weird mix of calm and awkward, considering what your original mission was. 
Going over the events of today, it’s a wonder why you aren’t crashing into a dreamless sleep. You’ve been up and having the most exhausting day ever, and yet, you can’t imagine shutting your eyes. 
Think of something else to talk about. Anything. Any topic you could possibly hold a conversation with Yoongi over. 
What did he respond to before? No small talk, since the plantains thing from months ago was a bust. And when you conversed over ramyeon it was more of him angering you on purpose—wait a minute. 
There was something you never circled back to. 
And as soon as you ask him about it, he appears impressed you remembered, 
“Were you bluffing when you said you knew what I was shopping for?” 
“No,” he responds immediately. “And I know I’m right.” 
“Prove it.” 
Mouth curved at an annoying angle, Yoongi shoots you a look before placing his drink down, getting up to walk to a tall armoire. 
Your eyes follow his every movement, even the way his ass moves under that damned robe. But soon, your jaw goes slack not because of his assets. 
But because the motherfucker was right on the money. 
How the… How the fuck did Yoongi know? 
In front of your face lies exactly what you were searching for. Sleek. Minimal. Lightweight and visibly balanced. You don’t even want to keep shopping around because this is the only one you want. 
How did he know you were shopping for daggers based on one single line of questioning? 
“I wasn’t gonna show you until you asked,” he divulges. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d forget. This one was hard as fuck to track down.” 
Eyes flicking up to his, you ask in wonder, “Can I…?” 
He lifts it slightly, signaling that you can indeed hold it yourself. 
And it’s perfect. 
“Wow,” you breathe out, feeling along its edges and hilt. It’s all one continuous line, with metal so black and matted that you almost moan. “I don’t have much on me, but.. I’ll give you whatever you want for this.” 
“Keep it.” 
What? 
“It’s yours.” 
There’s no way he’s just gonna gift this to you. It’s perfectly crafted in material you can’t even find in Crane. And they have almost every class of ore in existence. 
Who even is this man? 
“Yoongi, this is…” You shake your head while extending it back. “I can’t just take this.” 
“You can.” He fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist. “I did.”
Oh. Charming. The weapon you’re being gifted is stolen goods. “Well, in that case, I really can’t accept it.” 
But goddamn, this is more than perfect. You can’t even pluck one finger off the handle. And you can’t change the fact that it was already taken, right? Right?
“At least…” Scowling at your own crumbling morals, you mumble, “Not without good reason.”  
He looks at you over his shoulder. “Do I need a reason?” 
“No,” you reply. “But I’d like one.” 
Yoongi sighs long before moving his fingers. “I lied to you back there in the lobby.” Looking up at a clock instead of you, he works his jaw. “But this time, it really is just that.” 
“You expect me to believe you?” 
Fuck, the veins in his hands are so prominent when he laces them together. “No. But it’s better than those chopsticks you’re saving in the bathroom.”
Oh. So he saw those, too.
“Thank you,” is what you wave in white. Because that’s exactly how you feel and this one gesture does excuse some of his faults. Maybe. Or your standards have plummeted to the gutters. “I, umm. I usually keep one for self-defence. Just in case.” 
Turning it over and back again, you marvel at its light but solid weight. “But I lost mine in the last rough raid before they suddenly stopped.”
“Don’t sweat it.” 
“K.” Placing it on the closest nightstand, you go back to holding your glass between your hands. “One day I’ll pay you back somehow.” 
Yoongi shoots that down on sight. “No need.” 
“But I want to.” 
He glares before picking up his alcohol. “Anyone that owes me shit gets treated a lot different.” The drink rests in his hand like a liquid gem. “So just accept it as a gift, doll.” 
You’d laugh if you knew he was kidding. But you know he’s dead serious, so you only nod. 
It’s quiet again as you both retreat into your minds. 
Yoongi has the mental fortitude of a fortress it seems. Because he really is set on waiting until you tell him what you woke him up for, and it’s been awhile since this all started. 
But being in his presence while the night is quiet is somewhat comforting. You’re finding it easy to think about other things now, especially after he gave you so much to mull over. 
Like grey zones and how they came to be. It’s fascinating how you had no clue even though you should. Even though this whole conflict affected half the city. 
Wanting to gain more insight, you blurt your curiosity, “How long ago were the grey zones fought over? Before everything was decided?” 
“Years. Decades, at this point,” Yoongi answers, his gaze locked as you think about this timeline. “Most people don’t even bother knowing, though.”
“Why? This sounds like a big part of our history.” 
“No one cares if a Crane kills a Dragon.” His tone shifts slightly. And you wouldn’t have caught it if not for his subtle sulk. “They only resent the blood they have to wipe from the street.” 
Your lids lower all the same. Because that resonates deep within your chest, so much so that you feel your heart bend in its aching. “No one cares about us, either.” 
When Yoongi catches your look, you give a sad excuse of a smile. “Being a vendor? Especially where I am? You quickly figure out how little you matter. You as a person, I mean.” 
You slide fingers along the tiny rim of your glass, lost in the fibers of his rug more than anything else. 
Maybe you’re just a loose fiber in the rug of this city. One that will pretend to run only to be swept back into the folds. “The only things that people remember are what you offer. Anything other than that isn’t worth their time.” 
Lifting your chin, you save face. “Can’t say I won’t miss you.” May as well admit it all if you aren’t ever gonna see him again. “You were the only one that ever let me bother them.” 
“You never bothered me.” 
You look up to see him staring. Lip curled upward, you huff. “With all the looks you gave me? I find that hard to believe.” 
Yoongi doesn’t laugh in return. “What would I gain from lying?” 
Mm. That’s an interesting question. But the alcohol starts to talk for you as you have the balls to flirt. “People lie to get laid, for one.” 
“Mm.” He takes a measured sip of his glass, the last dredges of it swaying at the bottom. “Can’t say I’ve ever needed to.” 
“Shocker,” you drawl, sipping to match his pace. And it’s after this drink that you loosely admit, “This is really good, by the way.” 
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm.” Lifting the glass to peer inside, you swirl it around before divulging a past you don’t talk about—ever. But what are rules of conversation when you want to stall? “My uncle got me into whisky a long time ago. But fruit stands don’t pay for top shelf alcohol.” 
“Where’s he at now?” 
“Uhh.” You look away. “Gone.” 
“Sorry to hear that.” 
He gets up, and you watch in silence as he makes his way to the sideboard. Stuff shifts around before he appears to pour another glass. And he stays there for a bit, black robe blending into all the dark decor. 
“Yoongi?” 
He turns. 
“Can you keep talking?” You keep your drink steady between your robed legs. Buzzed and vulnerable, you offer an explanation, “Turns out there’s a lot I wanna forget right now.”
Like endings. And future endless days without your most frustrating, most dangerous, most favorite customer. 
Yoongi pauses before walking back to the bed. When his thighs settle next to yours, he asks without much heart, “What do you wanna know.”
“You.”
His jaw shifts, and you feel a slight tug in your chest. 
Was that too forward? Probably. But you’ll take what you can get, like a last meal chosen to hit every one of your desires. “Anything you wanna tell me, of course.”
Yoongi remains quiet. Which isn’t unexpected but still a little letdown. 
“Not much to tell.” 
Ah. Just more lies then. Maybe you should stick to the original plan. “Nothing at all?”
He looks at you, planting a hand on the bed to lean a little closer. “Nothing you’d wanna hear.”
You shift between his eyes. Wondering if it’s better not knowing or if you really do wanna give in. 
Perhaps his eyes will speak for him instead. Glowing dark. Hints of ember and smoke. Years and years squeezed into those irises. 
“What if I do,” you quietly question, catching the light on his alcohol-tainted lips. 
Reaching out, you boldly place a thumb over one side, slowly brushing off excess liquid and marveling at how soft he is there. Tender, just like his name. “What if I don’t care.”
Yoongi waits for a moment before holding your wrist, the atmosphere trembling and buzzing around your shoulders. Oxygen depletes as he leans in close, his beautiful features almost touching yours. 
You feel something locking into place. Something beautiful and terrifying. And it holds you down as you feel his hair, his warmth, his—
A noise blares into the room before you can feel yourself rushing upward, your body reacting on survival instinct alone. Glasses spill onto the rug and you don’t know what’s happening but lack of sleep lack of comfort lack of everything has you ready for—
Time stops. 
Sounds muffle. 
And your eyes flash wide as you see the tip of your blade pointed straight at Yoongi’s side. 
Just as he’s poised with a gun pointed towards the door. 
It’s a phone ringing. 
A fucking. Telephone. 
What have you done?
As Yoongi slowly shifts his gaze to your outstretched hand, you tremble in severe regret. Regret that you pulled this on him with the very weapon he gave you. Regret that he knows all there is to know about how you still feel about him. 
But you didn’t mean to… You didn’t even think. And you abhor how you directed your fear at the one person that kept you alive. The one person you fucking saved. 
When Yoongi lowers his gun, he doesn’t acknowledge the guilt on your face. But as he walks away to grab his device, his gaze flicks back to you before he answers across the room. 
Shit. 
You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up. 
You weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t care. You really weren’t. But who knows what Yoongi will think of you after that shock of a face off. 
Coming into his room was most definitely a mistake. Now you can’t wrangle your emotions for shit, head pounding with feelings and outcomes and adrenaline to the brim. 
Yoongi’s close to the wide bathroom stairs, so you can’t hear what’s being said. He does keep looking at you, though, which keeps your fingers pressed against a hilt. 
Are you in danger? Will Yoongi not want anything to do with you anymore? Is it alarming that you can’t decide which one is worse? 
The call doesn’t last long.
And as soon as he hangs up, you’re sputtering like a broken fountain, dagger still wielded as he stalks forward—phone clunking to the ground. “Who was that.” 
“No one.”
“What’s gonna happen to me.” 
“Nothing.” 
Fuck. You really did fuck everything up. Your brain is so battered that you’re gonna be skittish and paranoid for a long, long time. “Yoongi, I’m so—I didn’t mean to—It just happened—”
Forget it. It’s over. Your last interaction will haunt you forever and the only way you’ll experience what could’ve happened between you will be in your wildest darkest sweetest illest—
Burns flare at your eyes when Yoongi’s chest meets the quivering tip of your blade. 
“Stop,” you wince out, a damning tear pinging to your feet. “Just stop.” 
He starts to walk forward, which alarms you enough to step back because what the fuck is he doing! Why can’t your arms move? Why can’t you lower the fucking dagger? 
“I can’t,” you croak. “I can’t move.”
You’ve been firing on all fronts the whole day. Even in your dreams, you’re in survival mode. You can’t unlock your arms because they fight for the rest of you. Your legs propel you when the rest of you wants to give up. 
But that still doesn’t stop your heart from aching. It burns, it burns, it burns. 
When Yoongi grips your wrist, you choke on a sob. When he calls you smart, you squeeze your eyes shut in shame. And when he whispers to drop the fucking blade or he’ll do it for you, you do so after a maddening pause. 
It clunks to the ground when a gun does, and you’re suddenly spun until the backs of your knees hit something solid. 
Immediately, you’re thrust back onto dark sheets again, tears now rolling into your ears as you instinctively let Yoongi smother you whole. 
His hand slides to your inner thigh, and your mind reels when you start feeling a hardness on your stomach. Breath whooshes out of your mouth before you're covered in silk and muscle, and pleasure bursts from where he quickly devours your neck fuck.
Hands are quick to untie your robe as fire stokes your throat. 
“I won’t ask again,” he vows with a voice that rumbles. “Tell me what you fuckin’ want.” 
“Yoongi—” 
“Say it and it’s yours.” 
“Make me forget,” you shove through your teeth. “Just make me fucking forget.” 
“How.” 
Fuck lack of experience. Fuck being shy. You aren’t wasting another damn second and your emotions need all the release they can get. Loose lips, loose tongue, looser inhibitions.
The monster inside of you yanks at its chain, claws and claws at its confines screaming at you to give in. You need this. You want this, especially if Yoongi himself is gonna give it so willingly.
Just say it. Just say it.
“If this really is the last time I’ll see you…” 
Yoongi stills as your eyes lock unblinking. 
Tell him. Four words. 
“Fuck me like it.”
A proverbial chain snaps as Yoongi dives into your neck, ravishing you and sucking hard on your vein. When you yelp, your clenched legs seem to encourage, and he thrusts forward to launch you up the bed with a purpose. With intention.
All to let you know what you just got yourself into.
His fingers light little fires along your skin, burning everything in their paths up your arms, your sides, squeezing into your imperfections and latching down. His lips set your being ablaze as he keeps feasting, causing your breaths to get shorter, and shorter, and shorter. 
“So sensitive..” 
When you feel the warm swipe of a tongue, your eyes scrunch shut as you shudder. Which makes the whole thing worse for you when Yoongi chuckles dark in return. 
“I don’t think you’re ready for this.” 
“Shut up,” you huff out, grasping for his robe and raking at his sleeves. “Of course I am—Fuck.”
His thumb rolls across your exposed nipple, pinching it to make you arch right up into his chest. “You sure?” 
When the hell did he even open your robe? How did he do that so quick without you knowing? 
You bite down on your lip to keep from screaming, nodding in determination while your brows almost kiss. 
Watching your expression, Yoongi pinches again, biting his own lip while slowly spreading that shit grin. Your moan comes out more like a muted hum, which seems to displease. 
“Uh uh,” he orders. “You’re gonna be loud for me.”  
“But what if someone—” 
“They won’t.” 
He continues in his control, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up before shoving it to the side. 
And you know where he’s going. But it still shocks you all the same when his fingers make contact with your slick. 
Your very, very wet slick. 
Many, many things will haunt you for life. Your experiences. Your choices. 
But right now? The only thing that will follow you to your grave is this distinct, biting, staccato batch of laughter. “You shouldn’t’ve ever come in here.” 
Breath ragged, you watch as Yoongi concentrates, exploring your cunt with his long digits and hitting every nerve with perfection. When you rub against him, he growls, lifting shiny fingers to insert right into his mouth. 
Sucking. 
Licking. 
And your eyes mirror his at once—as black and pulsing as fallen stars. 
He swoops down at the same moment you tug on his clothing, his mouth latching onto the side of your neck he hasn’t ravaged. Impatient, his hand yanks the bottom of your robe to the side, fully exposing your legs and leaking folds while you grapple with your own obstacles. 
It’s messy. It’s jilted. It’s exactly what you want. 
As soon as you find the slit in his robe, you take a brave leap and reach for his cock, not knowing what you’re gonna find but having a vague idea based on his—
Oh. What.
Fuck, he’s gonna split you in two. 
You’ve held one before. You know what they feel like. But this cannot be possible and you’re already mentally preparing yourself for your breaking point. 
“You good?” 
You snap your head right up, realizing how stunned you must be if he’s asking. “I… You’re fucking huge.” 
Yoongi doesn’t react, but that somehow makes it more attractive. Like he knows. And he doesn’t deny a thing. “That a problem?” 
“I mean… I think I’ve lived a good enough life.” 
To your surprise, the man above breaks completely as you keep blabbering, shoulders shaking alongside those stupid dimples. Those beautiful, elusive dimples. Too bad this is the last time you’ll ever see them. “Did what I wanted.. Not everything, but most of my list.” 
Yoongi’s still chuckling. And for a brief moment, you’re brought back to the days he was just a patron. Back to when you would think about him before bed, delighted to see him stop by. 
This is him. This is Yoongi with you now. 
Where was he this whole time? Was he really waiting until you answered him for real? 
You went so far into your head that you missed the change in position. So it makes you jump like hell when you realize where his teal mop of hair resides. “Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?” 
Between your thighs, Yoongi lifts a brow, locking your legs with tough arms before you can even move. 
“Yoongi, you don’t have to—oh, fuck!” 
The first contact of his tongue on your folds makes your eyes burst, your legs effectively being pinned down in their tensing. Jolts of lust spiral from your core as he licks, sucks, twirls around your clit like it’s second nature, and you feel yourself welcoming his every thrust.
This is happening. This is happening? You’ve never done this before, not that you’ll admit it. Whatever Yoongi’s doing is completely new territory for you and you don’t ever think you’ll leave. Permanent residence. No other land to discover. 
Whines echoes throughout the room before you slap a hand over your mouth. Because the whole world will hear his name if you don’t. Especially when he adds fingers and curls them just right what the fuck! 
He makes you forget. And forget. And forget. You even forget your own name. Only his. Saying it into your palm over and over and clawing his sheets with the other. 
A low growl rumbles between your legs before you hear him purr, “Just like I fucking thought.” 
What’d he say? He didn’t say that. You’re hearing things, you’re sure of it. There’s absolutely no way Yoongi’s imagined anything about you, much less what you taste like. 
And the words keep coming as he whispers how tight you feel. How hot. How perfect you’re gonna fit him. 
While all you can utter in return is gibberish mixed with the syllables of his name. 
Pleasure rolls in waves as he learns every inch of your cunt, fingers drenched in your slick and the curves of his cheeks lathered in your scent. When he reaches beneath you to grope your ass, he gives a rough squeeze. 
“Move your fucking hand.” 
Your eyes fling wide. 
“I wanna hear you.” 
“No, I’m—there could be people—”
He clambers over you, robe wide open and revealing a body that rips your soul clean out. When he seizes your palm to shove it to the side, another monster starts to wake within your chest. 
And this one takes treacherous pleasure in those slitted eyes. 
“You’re gonna scream for me.” 
“Or else what.” 
The dark rumble. The rolling thunder. 
Your other monster is starting to match his glint. “You don’t wanna do that with me, doll.” 
“Do what?” you ask with flitting eyes. 
When all you get is a sharp smirk in return, your stomach flips in desire and excitement. So when he slaps the side of your breast, you hum high with a delighted flinch.
“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” 
Yes. This is what you came in here for. Your shyness will have to be comfortable with the unknown, but it’s also helping seeing Yoongi much more relaxed. 
Like a normal person. 
Especially when he leans over to open his bedside drawer, hair swaying as he grabs for what you think are condoms. 
Your hunch is right when he rights himself again, teeth nicking a wrapper before tearing it in one sweep. When you start to clench your legs together in response, he shoves them back open with a thigh, robe parting to show exactly what’s going to splice you in half. 
You’ll gladly take his amusement at your jaw unhinging. Because what you see is heaven sent. 
Yoongi says nothing as he wraps himself fully, and he continues to be silent as you whisper, 
“I wanna see you.” 
It doesn’t take long for him to understand. As his length presses against your core, he slips off his dark robe, letting it slide down equally dark sheets before pouring onto the floor. 
You’re just as quiet as he situates himself above your beating heart. Which is for the best. Your thoughts are better left unsaid. 
All you can do is grip his arm, sliding your hand up until you can finally, finally brush his hair with your own fingers. Exhaling when you discover how soft it feels. How comfort can be found in something as trivial as tendrils.
“This is helping, too,” you murmur to his lips, inhaling what you realize is your own scent. 
When he cradles your chin, your breath cuts. “Things happen when you say what you want.” 
“If only it was always that easy.”
“It is with me.” 
Your heart skips twice before tripping on itself, and you instinctively curl your palm against his head. “Everyone around you must be so lucky.” 
An eyebrow lifts before he huffs. “Not talking about just anyone, love.” 
…Huh? 
What does he mean by that because shit you’re getting tugged forward he’s so strong—
“Now, if you’re gonna be difficult,” Yoongi warns. “Let’s give you enough time to reconsider.” 
Your thighs widen as he positions himself at your entrance, cockhead rubbing along your folds as you tense. 
“Uh uh.” He hums. “This is what you want, yeah?”
“It’s been awhile,” you spat, rolling your eyes when he shoots you a knowing look. “Just… give me a second.” 
Obliging, Yoongi starts slow, making your head roll into the pillow as you accommodate his girth. Holy fuck, he’s big. But he’s sliding in easy after his little feast down there, which you piece together as one big prep for the main course. 
“Fuck,” he groans, resisting every urge to plow straight into you. At least, from what you can decipher in his pinched features. If this feels amazing for you, you can’t even imagine what he must be feeling now. It only gives you butterflies knowing he’s following through with his word. “So fucking tight.” 
“Not my fault you take up… so much space,” you grit through your teeth, neck straining as you blow air to the ceiling. 
Fully sheathed, Yoongi rests inside until your muscles relax. And you only peel your eyes open when you start to slip into more pleasure than anything else. 
Okay. You can do this. You can fit him surprisingly well—maybe too well—and you’re okay to keep going without restraint. 
When you peer down your body, you expect him to look bored or indifferent. Like he’s wasting time dealing with you. 
So it makes you shiver when Yoongi looks ready to ruin. 
Toned arms flex at his sides, hands keeping your thighs held in their place. When a strand of vibrant hair falls, his chains spark in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. A dragon that waits. And waits.
You’re ready. Your demise will be your reward. 
“I’m good,” you assure him. “You can move now—”
A second invisible chain snaps with a clink, and Yoongi launches into a thrust that has you seeing stars. You tumble through the dark as he thrusts again, mouth open with silent yells before you gnaw right into your lip. 
“Relax for me,” he commands. “Just like that.” 
Your cunt hugs him tight as you bounce even harder, his little grunts of praise making you mewl and whimper in bursts. 
Fucking hell, this feels good. 
You cannot wait to find out how it’ll feel when you piss him off. 
His hands grip your hips, hosting you up onto his thighs as he thrusts hard into your cunt. Your body rocks in an arch, limp and at his mercy—which there is very little of. Enchanted, your  lip tightens with the pull of your teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he feels so fucking good and hitting. Just. Right. 
It all carries you so far gone that as soon as you feel a rush of air, the sting on your ass makes you react—piercing moan making both of you freeze.
And Yoongi’s eyes deepen a shade as he slowly grins. “There you go.” 
“Don’t act like you—fuck!” His second swat has you grunting through your teeth, and his thrust forward at the same time he does it again has you whining. Monosyllabic, his name shoves out of your lungs, with each part more chipped than the next. 
“What’s that, love?”
“Yoongi, please—”
“That’s right.” He clutches your sides so damn rough. “Say my fuckin’ name.” 
And his pace pitches you into the sun, rocking so hard you won’t be surprised if the bed frame snaps in half. In thirds. In sevenths. Your legs go completely limp as he drives in, filling you and hitting a spot that pierces your eyes with stars and light and lust. Down down down you spiral, up up up you go. It’s only you and him now, with Yoongi plowing into you like his life ends come morning. 
There’s nothing in the world that feels like this. Burdened by the dangerous weight of a man—this man—while feeling so light you could float? Absolutely nothing can compare. 
Your body finally rests as he stops, but you get no breather as he flips you over with strong arms. Disoriented, you squeak as he tugs you backward, your ass rising in the air as your head is shoved into luxury cotton. 
Sweet pain sears your ass again, and you gasp with wide eyes as you feel his cock at your entrance. “What are you—”
“Lift up. Higher.” He slides his dick up your folds. “You’re gonna like this.” 
“You don’t speak for me—”
He thrusts into you as soon as you get accustomed to his length and size. And the place his thumb presses makes you scream into your pillow. His pillow. A hotel suite pillow that you’re biting to stay afloat. 
How the fuck does that feel so good? How does all of this feel so good? His thumb on your asshole already has you melting, but the smacking of his sack against your clit makes you want to repent.
“So fucking—fuck.”
Drool strings from your mouth as your arms are tugged at the elbows, your whole upper body coming up for air. Precious precious air that’s cut off when Yoongi chokes you from behind.
“Yoo—!”
His strength slams your chest into the headboard, right at the edge of the bed before you feel the force of his palm hit the wall. 
“What did I fucking say.”
“A lot.”
“I’m gonna hear you.”
“But—”
He shoves you flush against dark wood, your cheek smushing hard and your lips curling. “Let them hear you, too.” 
You keep your moans muted until fingers are shoved down your throat. And you gargle until he yanks them out. 
“That’s it. I know you can take it.”
“You’re easier…” Gritting your teeth in a smug grin, you taunt in a bold-faced lie, “Easier to take than I thought.”  
His laughter is not lighthearted. “You’re still gonna go there, huh.” 
“I don’t know what you mean,” you pout, eyes drooping from the euphoric shocks his thrusts provide. Sweat rolls down your arms as you slip on the wall, but it gives your chest a cool surface to rest. “Go where?” 
Suddenly, the grinding stops. And your cunt feels abandoned as he pulls out so fast. When you think to spin around, he spanks your ass with a harsh, “Don’t move.” 
Do you want to disobey? Yes. But you’re more curious than anything, so do as he says.
And your eyes light up when you realize what he comes back with. 
“Now… I could use this,,” he warns, pressing a silky smooth robe tie along your neck. “Since you don’t wanna behave.”
“Do it,” you taunt, wishing like hell that he does. Yes, yes, yes. You’re drunk on lust and volcanic want and you will fight for nothing more. “You won’t.” 
Your neck is rocked back before you feel him slap your ass. “Then stay still.” 
And you obey as you feel your belt—or his, either one—wrap loosely around your column before it’s tied. 
Gently, your chin is turned, and you’re surprised when you’re met with stern eyes. “Can you breathe.” 
Blinking, you nod. “Yeah, I can.” 
“Two taps if you’re out, understand?” 
“Yes.” 
A swift pat to your cheek. “What’d I say.” 
“Two taps,” you repeat, figuring out fast that you’re liking this development a little too much. “If I’m out.” 
Holy fuck the yank you feel is exhilarating, your body bending back as shock overcomes your senses. 
Lidded eyes staring down at yours, he vows, “You better make them count or we never do this again.” 
“I will, I will,” you rasp out, breath still coming to you fine albeit a little more harshly. “I promise.” 
“Good girl.”  
Wait, did he say again? 
As he slips right back inside, you lose all passing trains of thought. Cunt filled while his fingers clog your mouth makes you traverse to another plane. Every part of you, at his mercy—
Then he yanks you backward and all that mercy burns in the flames of heaven. Flocks to the clouds of hell.
The belt is completely taut as you succumb to his thrusts. Hard. Fast. Rough thrusts make you cry out as he toys with you, gravelly hums tumbling down your back as you arch for him. All the sounds you make echo throughout the room, a symphony of mewls and moans as Yoongi controls your every move. 
“Take it.”
“Hmm?”
“You want it,” he repeats. “So take it.”
Oh. Oh, he wants you to—Oh.
You start moving back and forth, doing exactly as he says. Taking what’s yours for the night and shamefully not forever.
But it turns out it’s not enough because he tugs. 
“Like you fucking mean it.”
Fuck.
Groaning, you move with more intention, sliding up and down his cock and feeling full every time. It feels good having control, you muse, and imagining him watching your debauchery turns you on that much more.
Your thrusts turn to rough slams, friction running fast while you chase it with all your strength. The groans you hear sound primal, hissed taunts egging you on.
“Guess you can listen after all.” 
“Fuck you.”
Another hard yank. 
Your laugh only spurns him on. 
Slaps to your ass, grabs to your breasts. Yoongi is worshipping every inch of you and you won’t even notice this until nights later when you’re alone. You’ll remember the way he squeezes just right, the way he fits so well, the places he hits with no hesitation nor guesswork. It’s pure experience strangling you with passion and you don’t even know how to embrace it all.
But then you start to feel it. Your breath tapering. It’s getting harder and harder to suck in air and you’re starting to see stars across your eyes. 
When you reach an alarming point, you quickly slap his leg twice, oxygen gushing into your lungs right as he lets go. 
You almost come on that exhilaration alone. Adrenaline pumps pumps pumps into your veins, eyes blowing black as he spins you around.
Hot, open mouth kisses pepper your burning throat, and you have the nerve to catapult him all the way back onto the bed. 
Yoongi lets you top him with a laugh, and you immediately use this opportunity to pin him down with a chokehold. Wanting him to feel the same way you just did. Knowing deep in your soul that he wants it, too.
“Cute.”
“You asshole.” 
Holy fuck, you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse. It’s rugged. 
It’s salacious.
He cocks a brow while peering down his nose. “You done?”
“What?” You blink. Slowly releasing his neck, you admit with a rasp, “No, that’s not what I.. I’m not done with you.” 
Yoongi slides into a smirk, and you attempt to scoff with a burning throat. 
You wanna tell him how good he is. How stupidly attentive he is. But all you settle for is something neutral. Safe. And maybe a little forward. 
“Just felt like calling you that.” 
Yoongi’s smile mellows into a line, and if you weren’t in such an evocative position, you would have thought it was genuine contemplation. But he slides hands up your thighs before slapping the side of your ass. “Get on.” 
Fuck. You don’t really know how. At least, you don’t know how to do it without showing him you aren’t used to it. 
So the confidence will keep getting faked. With a little help of your quick wit and tongue as you grab his length. “Didn’t hear a please.” 
Yoongi huffs out amusement. “I don’t say that.” 
His tip goes in fine. Fuck. Okay. You can do this you can do this. “Why am I not surprised—!” 
He shoves you down as soon as you give him enough leeway, and you groan out as you catch yourself with hands on his chest. 
“This is where you’re gonna live,” he says with confidence, laughing in condescension when you scowl. “Fuckin’ love it.” 
He can’t say stuff like that. 
You ride until you find a rhythm, rolling your body and finding the friction you want. It’s there for the taking. And he’s encouraging you with gravelly words and hums, with hands up your stomach and grasping your chest. 
After a single swirl of your hips, he throws his bed back until his neck strains. “Fuck.”
So you take that cue, rotating between rides and swirls. When he tweaks and rolls thumbs around your nipples, you clench hard around him, and he does it until you moan to the ceiling. 
A slap to your breast makes you whine, and you keep going before leaning forward, placing hands against his shoulders and bouncing your hips on his cock. 
“—a fucking natural,” Yoongi praises, chuckling to himself as he toys with the silk streaming down your neck. 
“Maybe I’ve just practiced.” 
“Show me more then.” 
Quickly, he tugs you down flush against him before grabbing your ass, slamming you down and pistoning up until you scream.
You start biting his shoulder to quell your shouts, which makes him moan loud enough to make you possessive. Wildly possessive. Before long, you feel yourself going limp on him, only for him, solely for his pleasure and yours. 
“Just like that. There you go.” 
You mewl into his skin as he grabs you, holding you down as he slams into you again and again and again. Drunk with power, you begin to mark his throat, devouring and feasting with reckless abandon.
Growling ragged, Yoongi flips your position and pins you face down, shoving up hard into your cunt before plowing. You fully lean into the yells now, saying his name and inching over the goddamn edge of the bed.
It’s there. Your release. It’s potent and it’s visceral and it’s everything you need need need—
“Yoongi, I’m close—”
He penetrates so far that you can taste him, and you come so harshly that you convulse. Squeezing like hell and quivering in a full body fold.
Holy shit, the screams. Is that you? 
The sinister laughs of pride prove you right. “That’s my girl. Fucking scream.”
You can’t stop. All you know is extreme pleasure coursing through your veins, pulsing beautiful colors and making you arch like mad. 
But you have more to handle. Yoongi prolongs your euphoria by yanking you back only to sink into you again, hands rubbing both nipples and tongue speaking deadly sins in your ear.
“You aren’t done,” he growls. “Lemme hear you again.” 
“I can’t—”
“Liar.”
His name rips from your mouth as you surprise yourself, gushing around his length and squeezing in powerful pulses. Nothing exists. Nothing at all. Everything you know is a feeling, as vibrant and shimmering as the sun above your street back home. 
All the heat you’ve ever felt coalesces along your skin, and the words whispered in your ear slide right down with your sweat. You aren’t quite sure what you hear. But judging by your preening, it has to be praise. Dirty, dirty, sinful praise. 
When your limp weight is flipped, you allow your legs to be hoisted up with no resistance. Looking upward, you peel open lids to the equivalent of a king. A god. And your outright awe blocks your ears from catching what your dragon swears. 
“—perfect,” he grits, inserting himself into your squelching folds. “Again.” 
No fucking way you have more left in you. You’re already floating in the ether, buzzing in pleasure and sweat and ecstasy. If you come one more time you’ll be an empty shell. 
“Earn it,” you boldly rasp out, grappling a bit of your spirit and reining it back one last time. “Take it, you bi—”
Your heart leaps up your throat as you’re pitched upward, groan serrated and high as you grin in triumph because it feels so fucking rewarding when he gives gives gives. 
Letting everything go relaxes your folds, causing Yoongi to rock into you with pride and without resistance. His chain smacks against his pecs at the same pace as your bouncing chest, and you’re more than sure you’re gonna feel bruises on your legs where he sinks his claws.
Skin slapping skin. Mewls and gritted curses. Heady scent covers them all in a thick layer and you feel the light grow closer and closer, stronger this time than all the others before it. Why? Why do you know this one will pitch you over the edge for good? 
Both of you may feel the same. 
Because Yoongi suddenly shoves himself so far into you and presses his body flush against your shuddering shaking screaming form.
You pulse frantically around him, throat sore and ragged from your final cry as tears stream down your face. It feels so fucking gorgeous that it hurts, and you enter a plane so mystical it’s completely separate from your earthly vessel. The two of you become closer than one, and you feel Yoongi stutter in his groan before yanking out and ripping the condom off.
Hot spurts paint your skin—a sweaty, spent canvas that dips slow with your labored breaths. His own breathing is rough but not exhausted, and you chalk that up to the mountain of stamina and experience he has on you. 
It’s done. 
Thoroughly spent.
All the pent up emotions dissipate in a slow descent. The chaos of today finally lowers its head, your monsters making their ways back into their cages. Moonlight shines brighter. Fuller. 
Illuminating a man in silver as he slowly heads into the bathroom. 
Holy fuck. You just slept with a gangster. With a Dragon.
With Yoongi.
There’s no way you can forget this. No way you can see yourself moving past this moment, even years and lifetimes from now. It doesn’t matter if Yoongi never thinks about you again, because something transpired in this room that you’ll keep locked away in your soul forever. 
As he brings back a towel to wipe his essence from your skin, you wonder. 
Was it all worth it? 
Or will this torture you in every dream you’ll ever have? 
A palm digs into the mattress before you feel weight and jewelry. The silk around your throat is carefully undone, and lazy, heated lips descend on your neck once more.
Bliss.
Sighing, you utter his name much softer now, telling him please without knowing what for. 
“What do you want,” he whispers.
“I don’t know,” you admit in a wisp. 
Yoongi keeps worshipping your throat, and you mewl when he reaches to rub your breast in a slow squeeze. When you drag your hand down to grip his cock, he tenses with a gritty hum. 
“Careful, love,” he rumbles. “There’s a lot more I can do with you.” 
“Tell me.” Your breath starts shorting in anticipation. “Tell me everything.” 
“Nah.” When he slides forward, the bare tip of him meets your cunt, causing you to flinch with a bitten lip. “You’re just gonna have to wonder. Day, after day, after day.”
Fuck this guy with the spite of a thousand lives. You’re the one holding his cock, so how the fuck is he still being this sure of himself? 
“Put it in,” you blurt, earning his gaze of utter confusion. 
“What?” 
“Just for a second.” You stroke him, feeling slick velvet and wetness coating your fingers. “That’s the last thing I want.” 
His eyes search yours, and for the first time tonight, he’s the one that looks hesitant. “You sure…?” 
“We’ll never do this again,” you whisper. “And I know you want it, too.” 
His gaze holds yours for a moment, searching your eyes for any sense of doubt. 
When he finds none, Yoongi positions himself at your entrance, and you feel his knuckles brush your folds before he sinks in. Slowly, cautiously, extraordinarily. 
And both of you groan so full. 
“Fuck,” Yoongi glowers, teeth sharp as he grounds them hard. His arm veins strain, shifting all his ink in pretty ebbs and flows. All his stomach snaps taut, and you can’t look away from his sheer look of concentration and lust. “Fuck.” 
“Feels so good,” you gasp, enjoying the way he’s slowly grinding against your walls. All the slick from your releases allows smooth strokes, and you already feel close for yet another time. An unbelievable amount of orgasm in such a short span. You’ll never reach this peak. Not with anyone else. “What the fuck, I’m close again—”
“Shit—”
It happens in a snap. But more of a mellowed, drawn-out river flow than a full waterfall. Your eyes slowly roll before closing, and your chest arches slow as you rock back and forth on his cock. The squeezes are harder. The pulses are fuller. You’re milking him for all he’s worth, like your cunt won’t let go until it’s pumped him dry. 
Which makes Yoongi lose his absolute mind, hissing as he pulls out quick before spilling onto you all over again. Again? 
Holy fuck, again? 
As he groans up above, his eyes are wiped dark completely. Which makes you wonder how you can still see stars embedded inside. 
Was it all worth it? 
You’ve never been more achingly sure.
It’s a long shot to know if he feels the same. And an even longer one for that to truly be the case. 
But it’s okay. 
This is the first, the last, the only time you have. And it was more than you could’ve ever asked for. 
As he falls into the sheets next to you, both of you exhale harsh, hearts pounding and pounding into the bed and to the ceiling. 
You can’t even move. Every single limb is sore from base to tip, and the door looks so, so far away. 
When you whisper his name, you get a little acknowledgement at your side. Gathering all the strength you have left, you whisper, 
“I know this is when I’d be kicked out, but.. I can’t move.” 
The small puff of air you get in return sounds like a yes. But you aren’t sure until Yoongi verbally gives you a real answer, 
“S’ok.” 
All you can do is hum, noticing with a sharp pang that you feel soft towel wipes before the smooth slide of sheets up your bare skin. 
“Just stay on your side.” 
Ah. 
Well. At least you aren’t alone for a night. 
“And you.. Stay on yours,” you murmur, darkness seeping into your peripherals. 
“Mm.”
Yoongi can be as cold and heartless and calculating as he wants. But you know he’s more than what he shows. 
Because with a second sharp hit to the chest, you also realize the side you’re on is the side he was on before. He’s not gonna make you move just to keep his preference. 
Don’t think too much about it. Do not. 
“I wish everything was different,” you whisper, drifting into a dreamless sea. “I don’t want to hate you...” 
Your forehead is swept by a warm hand. You cannot lift your lids any longer, but your ears still hang onto their efforts. 
And the last thing you hear before succumbing to the dark is a lighter flick and a fact. A cold, expected, damning fact. 
“You’ll always hate me.” 
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When you wake, you’re greeted by the same room you fell asleep in. 
Sunlight cuts through grey skies to shine every surface, and you breathe in a musky, comforting scent as you stretch your limbs. 
Did last night really happen? 
The soreness between your bare legs is more than enough to prove so. 
Slowly turning, you whisper to Yoongi that you’re ready to go when he is. 
Only to find out that you’re talking to no one. 
Shit.
Shooting up, you start to panic. Maybe he’s in the living room already? Getting ready to call someone to bring you back home? 
Glancing at the nightstand on his side, you don’t spot the dagger he gifted you, brain grappling with what that could possibly mean. 
Your ribs crackle when you bite back emotion. It’s all over. 
Shifting back to swing your feet onto cold fibers, you pause with swimming eyes. 
Because the blade rests ready on your nightstand, propped on a set of plain clothes in the perfect position you would need it to be.
Teeth clenched and eyes burning, you swipe it before rushing out of bed, head pulsing and a dull ache between your legs. “Fuck..” 
The shirt and pants you’re given don’t exactly fit, but you’ll take what you can get as you punch limbs through long sleeves and high pants. 
Yoongi isn’t here. 
You feel it in your whole being, and you have no fucking clue why it hurts. 
But if he’s not here…
Who do you start to hear outside the door? 
You freeze, lungs expanding as you hold multiple breaths. 
It sounds like talking. But also a myriad of sounds? 
Heading into the bathroom, you silently glide across the floor before swiping up the chopsticks. Because yes, you’re still gonna save them. For defence. For keepsakes. For a grave reminder. 
Tucking them in a pocket, you ready your dagger under your garment, pressing it flat against your skin like you were trained to do. 
Slipping out into the hallway, you hear the sounds clearer. Movement. Slides of furniture. 
What the hell is going on? 
You’re about to retreat back into the room when a man crosses in front of the hall. 
And his hair is strikingly… 
Orange?
As he catches you in his vision, he stops on a dime, hand outstretched in greeting. “Hello!” 
Your step back makes him laugh. But you’re not laughing in the slightest as you question, 
“Where’s.. Where’s Agust?” 
“Gone.” The smile spreading makes you squint. “Need to see him?” 
Your answer is immediate.
“I’d rather die.”
-
-
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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist
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a/n: alright before i say anything else: use the bathroom after sex, and especially after doing it unprotected!! i normally include it so this is a rare exception. but yes. please use the bathroom after, and practice safe sex always! a/n 2: WHO COULD THAT BE AT THE END THERE... ahahah but seriously, i for one am still swirly eyed just thinking about what's coming for these two.. they have no idea what's in store and i'm itching to get the next part done! a/n 3: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ 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  ⇥ minted masterlist
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spxllcxstxr · 4 months ago
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Vermax • J.V
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(Gif not mine)
Request: jacaerys falling in love with a servant girl and taking her for a ride on vermax. -- @sarahisslytherin
Summary: Jacaerys takes a servant girl to see Vermax
Warnings: fem!reader (referred to as girl at some points), servant x prince forbidden romance, dragon stuff, lowkey abrupt ending but oh well
Word Count: 1.2k
A.N: need more smiling jace but DAMN he was fine in this scene, first jace piece, hope it's ok! This wasn’t supposed to be over 1k words lmao
The dark corridors of Dragonstone castle twist and turn as Prince Jacaerys pulls you through them. His grip on your wrist is light as it pushes up the sleeve of your red servant’s dress.
The only sounds surrounding the two of you were your steps across the stone floors and both of your panting breaths.
In mere minutes the cool air of Dragonstone hits you as does the grass slick with fresh dew. Any guards near the entrances are cloaked in the darkness.
"Jacaerys," You hiss, careful not to draw any attention to you. "Where are you taking me?"
"Calm yourself, (Y/n), I am only taking you to see Vermax." Jace responds, his pace slowing as he approaches a patch of grass where his dragon frequently can be found.
"Are you feeding me to your dragon, Jace? Is this what this is?"
He snorts at your question. "Not today."
You giggle as Vermax is appears within your vision.
The moonlight shimmers on Vermax's olive green scales. The dragon mesmerizes you, even when stationary. You can't even fathom the fact that Vermax is on the smaller side of the Targaryen dragons.
Jacearys turns to you, the flowing red cape attached to the rest of his riding gear rustles behind him. Your eyes flick to the Prince.
"Do you trust me?" The Prince asks, his gentle brown eyes staring into your own. His thumb rests on your cheekbone. The leather riding gloves obstructs the warm feeling you have come to associate with the Prince. It's comforting nonetheless.
You heart hammers in your chest. Even his lightest of touches always leaves you dazed, but with the addition of a dragon just over his shoulder contributes to your nerves.
"Of course, Jacaerys," You breathe, wiping your sweaty palms against the rough fabric of your dress. The tall grass tickles your ankles.
He hums, lightly pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Do not be afraid, sweet girl, Vermax will do you no harm."
"Are you sure about this, Jace? We could get in trouble--"
"Nonsense, who here would fathom taking issue with the Prince?" Jacearys smirks, making your cheeks burn.
In the moonlight he takes your breath away. Pale skin littered with freckles, the desire to kiss every single one almost taking over.
You follow him as he strides over to his dragon, murmuring in High Valarian. His hands rest atop the dragon's snout.
He whispers to his dragon, gesturing to you to come closer. With your hand trembling slightly, you lightly place it on the dragon's scales, which are hot to the touch.
It takes a bit of maneuvering paired with Jace's help for you to get up on Vermax's saddle--you had barely ridden a horse much less a dragon.
"Might want to hold on tight, (Y/n)." Jacaerys whispers in your ear as he settles behind you. "Vermax is pretty quick."
He shouts a few phrases in High Valyrian and the dragon roars to life, large wings starting to move. As you rise through the air, you can't help but to scream your lungs out.
Higher above the trees, mingling between the clouds, a sense of adrenaline makes you dizzy.
How could anyone get used to this?
You holler and laugh as the wind quickly whips all around you. Your fingers tingle and your heart pound in your chest.
Jacaerys has Vermax climbing high up in the sky before dropping close to the ocean, twisting as you go down.
Eventually, with morning quickly approaching, Vermax coasts just below the clouds, heading towards Dragonstone, which is just a small island in the distance.
Dawn creeps over the horizon, the orange and yellow hues of the early light blending with the sea surrounding you. Your skin bathes in the light. The open sea and sky glitters in your vision. Closing your eyes you deeply inhale, the fresh air filling your lungs. You can feel his eyes watching you intensely. Jace's arms tighten around your waist as he guides Vermax to dive closer to land.
You don't open your eyes until you land and Vermax stops shifting on their feet. Slowly, and with guidance from the Prince, you dismount from the dragon, gently patting their scales once more before taking a few steps back.
“Thank you, Jace,” Your lips gently press against his cheek, red from the wind. "That was..." You search for the words that could possibly describe the experience you just had. "Amazing."
The dawn light highlights the flecks of gold in his eyes and you're unable to look away. His lips tilt up in a smile.
"Oh my sweet girl...I would do anything for you. Showing you all this," He gestures to Vermax's retreating figure in the sky. "It is because I love you."
You take a step back, breath catching in your throat. While the two of you had been sneaking around with each other and kissing in the dark corners of the castle, he had never told you he loved you before. You never thought he could love someone like you. "Jacaerys, I am a mere servant girl, you cannot--"
"I can, (Y/n)." He takes your hands in his, pulling you closer to his body. He smells of dragon and fire. "When my mother is sat on the Iron Throne it will not matter if my heart chooses to be with a serving girl or a lady at court." He squeezes your hands in an attempt to calm your nerves.
You bite your bottom lip, mind and heart racing with swarming thoughts and emotions.
"Do you--do you not love me back?" Jace's dark brows crease with worry.
"Do not be a fool, Jacaerys!" You respond, meeting his eyes. "I have loved you since I met you! But what of Baela? Of politics? You cannot just piss that all away for someone like me!"
"I do not care, (Y/n), please just listen to me!" He moves his hands to frame your face, one of each cheek. They're delicate on your skin. "We will deal with it when we get there, but please let us love each other now before we have to concern ourselves with all of that." Jace's eyes are wide, pleading with you to just say yes.
And how could you resist? You had loved him since you were both children running up and down the stone steps of the castle, him avoiding his duties as a Prince and you avoiding your duties as a servant.
Without saying anything, you surge forward to capture his soft lips in your own. Your own hands move to his neck, stroking the skin there. The two of you had kissed before, many times, in fact, but it was never like this. This was more special in a way you couldn't wrap your head around. It was slow and passionate, like Jacearys was trying to convey to you how much he truly loved you. You try your best to return the sentiment.
Breathlessly, you reluctantly pull away. Your eyes flutter as they meet his own. "Gods, Jacaerys, of course I love you back."
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macabr3-barbi3 · 9 months ago
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CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)
Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282
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The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes
Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers
<3<3<3<3<3<3
Your new boss seemed stressed. 
Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.
You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 
Right over his head. 
He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 
He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 
“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”
“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”
God, but you wanted to be.
He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”
His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”
“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”
Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.
You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.
“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.
The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.
You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.
He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.
Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.
You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.
You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 
You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.
As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”
You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”
He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”
“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”
“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”
You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.
“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.
A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”
“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”
You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”
He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”
You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.
You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”
You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 
After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.
Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 
There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 
Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.
“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”
This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”
“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.
You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.
“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”
One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”
“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.
His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.
“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”
“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.
“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?
He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.
“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.
Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.
“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.
With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 
“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 
“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.
“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“
Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 
It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.
“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”
He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”
“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“
“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”
“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”
The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.
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milkloafy · 6 months ago
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STUCK WITH YOU — BLADE
⋆。˚ ❀ summary: in which you get sick and blade is wondering how the hell he got stuck having to take care of you. ⋆。˚ ❀ contents: sickfic, fluff, swearing, gn!reader, stellaron hunter!reader, reader doesn’t like room temp water LMAO only ice cold, blade’s kinda mean but a softie trust me u.u ⋆。˚ ❀ wc: 1.8k+ ⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: i haven’t written for blade in ages so i am very rusty but i hope u enjoy <3 this is a self-indulgent fic i wrote while sick and bed-ridden yesterday :c if any of y’all got the summer cold/flu too i hope u feel better !! :> 
You felt like shit and the last thing you needed was someone threatening you to get better. 
It would have been one thing if those threats worked in scaring your illness away. But you were certain that it did the opposite of help— It simply gave you an unwanted headache instead. 
“Can you stop glaring at me whenever I blow my nose?” you demanded with a sniffle, tossing your tissue into the trashcan Blade so graciously placed next to your head.
“Can you stop blowing your nose so loudly?”
You glared at him, responding by grabbing another tissue and blowing your nose even louder. You winced at the force, feeling a slight throb in your head from the overexertion.
With an ever-present scowl on his annoyingly handsome face, Blade shook his head at you. You could practically sense the disappointment and annoyance radiating from him. “Don’t make yourself feel worse.” 
“I’m not trying to,” you said, choosing to lay back down on your bed rather than arguing with him.
Your throat was sore, your nose was both runny and stuffy with no in-between, your muscles were achy, and your body was tired. There wasn’t much fighting spirit left for you to spare in your current state. Hence, the reason the Stellaron Hunters had Blade stay behind on the mission until you recovered enough to join everyone. Why they didn’t leave someone more personable and caring like Sam behind was beyond you. But you supposed you should be grateful Elio let anyone stay behind instead of having you recover alone. 
Coughing, you reached for a glass of water to moisten your throat only to find it already empty. You groaned to yourself, the thought of having to get up from your warm and cozy bed to fill up your water in the cold, cold kitchen made you shiver. 
With a sigh, Blade exited your room while muttering a quick, “Stay put.” 
You blinked blearily, eyes barely able to follow his quick-moving figure out the door. 
In a flash, Blade returned with two separate cups—one filled with clear water, and the other with warm tea. He set them both down on your nightshade, collecting your empty glass to clean in the sink. 
“Thank you,” you murmured, touched that he brought you drinks without you having to ask. You grabbed the glass of water first, letting out a giggle when you saw the single ice cube floating on the top. With a smile, you questioned, “One ice cube?”
Blade shrugged, a nonchalant look on his face that one could easily mistake as uncaring. “You don’t like room temperature water. If I brought warm water to you, you would rather die of dehydration than drink it.” 
A nodded sheepishly, unable to deny what came out of his mouth.
“Still, you need fluids to feel better. I figured one ice cube might be enough to satiate you.” 
Staring at the melting ice cube, you assumed it didn’t do much to help the temperature of the drink, but the thoughtfulness of your fellow Stellaron Hunter was enough to coax you into drinking it regardless. 
“That’s…surprisingly sweet of you,” you said, taking a sip of water. It was, in fact, not cold enough for you, but you still pushed onwards. “Thanks, Bladie.” 
The scowl on his face deepended. “Don’t call me that. And drink the tea. I put honey in it since its anti-inflammatory.” 
“Your frown lines are forming prematurely,” you jested, setting the glass of water aside to pick up the steaming cup of tea. The warm mug felt hot against your skin and you felt a droplet of sweat forming on the side of your head. In the blink of an eye, you threw the blankets off your body and fanned yourself dramatically with one hand. You shared a look with Blade. “It’s too hot for tea.” 
“It’s not too hot, you just have a fever,” he said with annoyance, walking over to the thermostat and turning down the temperature regardless of his words. “But you can wait for it to cool down then—” 
Before he finished his sentence, you had already taken a sip of the drink. Immediately, you felt a burning sensation on the tip of your tongue and jumped. “Ow!” you yelped, placing the mug down and glaring at it. “That’s hot!” 
Blade glared at you. “Tea is typically made from hot water. I just told you to wait for it to cool down.”
“But you said that after you told me to drink it!” you sniffed, nursing your tongue by dipping it into the lukewarm glass of water. “You can’t give a sick person mixed signals like that.”
“You’re sick, not incompetent.” He paused. “Not more than normal, at least.” 
“Hey!” you protested. At the sudden overuse of your voice, you felt your throat growing more irritated. You coughed and coughed, taking in deep breaths of air to stop yourself. 
He folded his arms as he scolded you, “Don’t overexert yourself. Get some rest.” 
With tears forming around your eyes from coughing, you matched his haughty expression. You croaked out, “You’re naggy. Did you know that?”
“Only to those who don’t listen.” 
“You tell me like a million different instructions! How can I listen?” you retorted, your headache coming back as your shoulders tensed in irritation. 
When he noticed your slight wince of pain, Blade sighed and relented. He walked over to the side of your bed and picked up the cup of hot tea. With a blank expression, he blew the surface of the drink, cooling it down until the steam went away. 
“Here,” he said as he held out the cup to you. “Now drink.” 
Your stared open-mouthed at the drink. You felt as if he was giving you whiplash with his crass words and caring actions. You didn’t quite know how to feel, but you knew you were at least a bit grateful. 
Carefully, you sipped the cup of tea Blade gently (and begrudgingly) placed in your hands. This time, you did not feel the scalding heat burn your tongue. 
“Thank you,” you said, chugging as much of the tea as you could. “It wasn’t hot that time.” 
He nodded in response, stepping away from the side of your bed once he confirmed you finished your drink. Blade studied you as you laid back in bed, closing your eyes to try to soothe all your ailments. It didn’t work, but you would certainly keep trying. 
Without the blankets covering you, you felt cold again despite the sweat you felt gathering on your forehead. You heard rustling and the clanging of glasses next to you.
When you opened your eyes, you saw Blade walking away with the dirty cups in hand, muttering something about how he wasn’t your maid. You smiled weakly, knowing he was doing his best to take care of you regardless of his bitching and moaning. 
Blade returned with a slightly damp washcloth in hand, folded perfectly into a compact rectangle. You sniffled through your stuffy nose, watching as he held out the washcloth to you, before taking it back last minute. Confused, you pulled your hand back as well. 
“I’ll just do it. Before you mess up somehow,” he said, leaning down by your side and placing the damp washcloth on your forehead. 
The instant he placed the towel on you, cool relief coursed through your body. You shivered at the sensation, letting out a noise of satisfaction. 
You peeked one eye open, looking at Blade with another sheepish expression. “Thank you. Again…” 
“You don’t need to keep thanking me.”
“I do!” you insisted, staying as still as a board despite the passion in your voice. “I know you would rather be out on a mission right now, following Elio’s script with the others. But instead you got stuck here taking care of me.” 
He folded his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s not your fault. Kafka forcibly volunteered me.” 
You chuckled lightly at that. It certainly seemed like something Kafka would do. Either to annoy Blade, tease you, or irritate the both of you just for fun. 
“You just need to get better soon,” he said as if it were that simple. “Then we can both get back on the field.”
“Is that why you’ve been such a good little nurse, Bladie?” you teased, touching your fingertips to the cool washcloth on your forehead. 
He glared at you, but there was no anger behind the expression. “Call me that one more time and you will see what happens.” 
“Will you bring me more hot tea to burn my tongue on?” you asked in mock horror. Despite his menacing-sounding threats, you knew Blade would never hurt you. 
“I’ll bring you room temperature water with no ice,” he promised blankly. 
Your mouth dropped in surprise and you shook your head fervently, the small towel falling off your face. “No, please! I won’t call you Bladie again.”
Blade rolled his eyes at your dramatics but immediately went to pick up the fallen washcloth. “Stop moving around like that. You’re going to make your headache worse.”
“Sorry, mother.” 
He scowled and plopped the washcloth back on your forehead, less gently this time than the first. You stuck your tongue out at him in response before feeling another fit of coughs come your way. 
Once you managed to soothe your throat and gather your breath, you sighed. “I hate being sick.” 
“Then drink more fluids and go to sleep.” Blade grabbed the glass of water from your nightstand and began to walk out with it. “I’ll get you some more before you try to rest.”
Closing your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself despite your discomfort. He had a rough exterior, but he surprised you with how much effort he put into helping your sick self out. 
His hidden thoughtfulness was enough to stir something in your stomach—butterflies, you hoped, and not an unwanted stomach bug to add to your list of ailments. It was unfamiliar to you, but certainly not unwelcome. 
Blade entered your room one last time for the night, bringing you a new glass of water with a single ice cube, and a fresh new washcloth folded to perfection. 
You giggled, noticing his attentiveness to detail. “Thank you, Bladie. I really appreciate all of this.” 
He sighed but didn’t argue when he heard that nickname. Thankfully, he did not take the ice cube out of your water and hand the glass to you lukewarm.
“You are so… You’re welcome,” he relented, replacing the damp towel on your forehead with a fresh and cold one. “Now, hurry up and recover.” 
“I’m trying,” you laughed, no longer annoyed by his impatience. “I’m sure I will, with you doting on me like this.”
“I don’t dote.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bladie,” you sang softly, your eyes finally feeling heavy after drinking more water and relaxing your muscles with the help of the cool washcloth. “I’m finally getting sleepy…”
He nodded. “That’s good.” 
“Mhm,” you murmured, your voice drifting into a sleepy mumble. “‘M tired. Goodnight… Blade.” 
There was a long pause before you heard Blade’s response while you drifted off into a deep slumber. “Get well soon, Y/N.”
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symbologic · 1 year ago
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What Zoro said: You're asking the wrong guy (I slice people apart for a living)
What Usopp heard: You're asking the wrong guy (I'm 🌈✨ as hell)
As a Japanese I know Zoro's notorious line "You're asking the wrong guy" is supposed to represent his bushido(武士道) spirit in which having interest in romance is regarded naive and unprofessional, but the fan(girl) me is 200% onboard with the Tumblr interpretation of "Oh he's 🌈✨"
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leclercsluvs · 8 months ago
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CL16 | Already Over | smau
part 3 | masterlist
an: this will include sort of cheating (not really sure what to classify it as), and for that i am going to be using pics of charles and alex, however do i see any alex hate you are blocked or something, thank you very much) fc: sabrina carpenter pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader ib: vicious by @azulpitlane and the album 'emails i can't send' by sabrina carpenter
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charles_leclerc
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liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55 and 1.503.666 others charles_leclerc nice weekend! i'm happy with my results, and glad to finally introduce you to my girl <3 tagged: scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55
danielricciardo mate what?
carlossainz55 i literally saw her like once
lecworld oop the tea is being spilled
pierregasly great job this weekend! (very unimpressed i find out about your relationship through insta, i'm hurt)
landonorris what's her name again?
alex_albon wow you almost cut me out
charles_leclerc sorry mate i needed to fit in carlos carlossainz55 i do look amazing in that photo
y/nswrld damn the drivers did not hold back
ricsbestglam ikrrr??? like whats going onnnn?? i need the teaaa lecs.aep riiiight?? it's a neeeed
f1wagsupdates
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liked by lecslvr, sharl.aep and 693 others f1wagsupdates charles new girlfriend spotted at the race! she looks so pretty, yet we haven't been able to find out what her name is tagged: charles_leclerc
lecslvr oh my goddd she's gorgeous
leclercs.aep she looks a lot like someone i've seen around in paris. i think she goes to one of the art schools there, i think her name is alexandra or something like that
f1girl1644 we must DIG and find her! charles_lechair or maybe theres a reason charles hasn't told anyone her @ like maybe she likes that people can't stalk her account and point out every flaw
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liked by danielricciardo, yourbff and 2.562.827 others yourusername give me a second to forget i ever really meant it 🫨 fast times out now! music video out in a few days. hope you enjoy it (the dark hair is just a wig, i didn't dye my hair for a mv)
y/nsworld NEW MUSICC???
y/n.aep omg totally in love with this song!
scfty/n oh so they're like over over??
lecslvr i guess 😭 charles was literally seen kissing a girl and posting her on his ig
norris.aep oh is this going to be an album? about CHARLES??
lqvey/n omg i HOPEEE
danielricciardo so proud of you!
yourusername thank uuuu
carlossainz55 very nice song!
yourusername 🥰
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liked by danielricciardo, milomanheim and 3.413.034 others yourusername feather is out now!! thank you to everyone who's supported me, and a big thanks to milo for agreeing to be the guy in the elevator 💔 anyway here's a few sneak peaks for the music video, personally my fav, out october 31st!! tagged: milomanheim
y/nsb1tch ohhh who did you blockkk?
yourfriend so you finally listened?
yourusername well i suppose someone knocked some sense into me yourbff happy to be of help 🫡 yoursister girl you should have listened from the beginning. he was BAD NEWS yourfriend we've been telling her!! yoursister did i tell how he responded when she was in that accident? yourbff uhm no??! do spill!!! yoursister TO THE GROUPCHAT yourusername oh lord....
milomanheim thanks for giving me this opportunity. never been in a music video and i did enjoy being the guy in the elevator. even if i didn't get that happy ending
yourusername we'll work together again sometime, and you'll get your happy ending 🙃
luvmilo UHMM WHAT?? okay but like he's gonna eat that role up no matter what it is
leclercssupportsystem okay but why does that guy lowkey look a bit like charles??? i fear 'guy in the elevator' and 'not happy ending' is not good LMAO did she kill him in the mv or something?
yourusername 👀
danielricciardo proud to have been an inspiration 😌
yourusername inspiration and inspiration 🤷‍♀️ sure we were texting when the idea came, but you didn't contribute much :) carlossainz55 she owned you mate danielricciardo now that's just rude :(( yourusername sorry. thanks for the amazing inspiration daniel 🫶 landonorris did you get a sneak peak of it too? maxverstappen1 only a sneak peak? i got the whole song like a week ago 🤷‍♂️ pierregasly you guys got to hear it? kevinmagnussen you guys knew about it?
lcvssjeed some of the drivers being in the comments is making my heart super happy
y/nsvfx no because same! maybe we’ll see her back in the paddock again? 👀 yourusername: wouldn’t wanna miss lando get his first win 😉 vspxcharles OMG OMG OMG SHE REPLIED
scuderiaferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1.329.082 others scuderiaferrari a nice 1-2 this weekend! happy to see charles on top of that podium again! tagged: charles_leclerc, carlosssainz55
charles_leclerc felt good to be back on top!
carlossainz55 such a good weekend! can't wait for more
leclerswings hes such and angel! 😇
lecsgirl so we just decided to ignore that he supposedly cheated on y/n??
leclerc16 CHARLES P1!!! congratssss
char.aeps so once he drops y/n he starts performing great again? do we think she was the reason he couldn't perform?
angelic.y/n don't you dare try and put the blame on my baby angel! char.aeps she's not so innocent tho 💀 angelic.y/n what's that supposed to mean? was she the one running around being all flirty with two people at once? didn't think so
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbff and 2.562.827 others yourusername vicious out now! happy i was able to perform it at coachella! such an experience!
danielricciardo wow you never fail to amaze!
maxverstappen1 is this about a certain person we all collectively don't like?
yourusername perhaps 🤭 maxverstappen1 good to know landonorris may i ask, why you have not done something about it? maxverstappen1 what do you want me to do? pierregasly push him off the track. take revenge for 2012 maxverstappen1 do not remind me of that or i'll push YOU off the track.
carlossainz55 amazing!
y/ncore the drivers being so supportive even tho it's about charles treating y/n like shit is my roman empire
lestappenlvr love how she tries and makes it seem like charles was the bad guy 🙄
y/n.vsp maybe because he was the bad guy? lestappenlvr and how would you know?? y/n.vsp i dont, but hearing these songs, idk i dont think we should jump to any conclusions since we don't have the full story, but we all saw charles running around with that "alexandra" girl while he was definitely still with y/n lestappenlvr well if you dont know why are you speaking about it?? y/n.vsp y'know i could ask you the same thing.
leclercs.aep maybe she should have kept her legs closed lmao
yourusername
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liked by yourfriend, yourbff and 2.562.827 others yourusername i wish we stayed just like we were up there </3
yourbff we should hang out soon!
yourusername uhm yes! yourfriend i better be invited! yourusername duh!! danielricciardo can i have an invite too? yourbff depends are you like *that guy*? danielricciardo uhh never 🫠 yourusername you can be there :))
y/nsangel aww how cute (who is she talking about?)
scfty/n probably charles? y/nsangel who? scfty/n charles_leclerc they used to date a little while ago, but it's suspected he cheated on her
scfty/n literally in love with her
y/nswrld who isnt?
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, leclercsbae and 729.362 others scuderiaferrari hoping for another 1-2 finish this weekend! tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55
leclercsbae charles looks so gooooood!!
charles_leclerc definitely going to try!!
carlossainz55 better hope for a P2, i’m going for that top step 💪 charles_leclerc keep dreaming mate, i��m taking that P1 yourusername oh so you do know how to reply?? angelic.y/n oop the tea clfan girl what are you doing here? you're not with him anymore y/n.video they might not be, but her and carlos seems to be friends, so it makes sense shes still following ferrari chili55 i’ve never seen them interact? luvy/n he’s been really supportive of her music, commenting on her post and using her songs on his story
maxv3rs1appen_ i doubt it. with max and red bull being strong you should be lucky to get P3
norris.vfx nahhh lando is gonna get his win this weekend (let me be delulu i need it)
yourusername we're rooting for him 💪
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff and 3.927.175 others yourusername thank you to everyone who's been with me through this journey. i'm happy to finally be back on tour, emails i can't send has been out for a few days, i hope you like this album i've been working on. i will not be naming any names, but if a song is about you, you probably know 😉
yourbff SO HAPPY YOU'RE BACKKK (i better get tickets>:(!!)
yourusername i guess you'll have to buy them then 🤷‍♀️
video.y/n okay so i went to one of the first concerts of the tour AND SOME OF THE DRIVERS WERE THERE 🥹
angelic.y/n waittt you have to tell which ones!! video.y/n well carlos, daniel, lando, pierre, max, george, lewis, kevin, alex and logan all stood together (so i assume they went together???) leclercsluv no way!! i went to! i actually saw a certain charles in the crowd and i was pretty shocked
danielricciardo one of the best concerts i've been to
maxverstappen1 usually i don't go to concerts, but i'd go to y/n's again in a heartbeat danielricciardo ofc you would ;) landonorris now what is that supposed to mean daniel??? 🤨 danielricciardo 🤐 yourusername thank you all for being there 🥰 it meant a lot to me 🫶 danielricciardo especially max 👀 alex_albon daniel behave 😑
lecslover charles lurking in the likes???
charles_leclerc i truly am sorry for what i did. do you think you'd ever be able to forgive me?
youbff no. yourfriend no. yoursister no. danielricciardo no. yourusername maybe with time. not right now tho. go take care of your new girl. you'll know when i'm ready.
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part 4
tags: @exotic-iris13 @callsignwidow
407 notes · View notes