#i remember it because it made me cry 💀
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hauntingblue · 3 months ago
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WATER SEVEN BABYYYYY
Look at robin reacting when luffy says he wont give her up.... 🥺🥺
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This is a joke right now but its actually a one piece tenet aldjsisjka
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Usopp aksbaksjakqk the foreshadow is foreshadowing... Also Robin being happy with the crew after the Aokiji incident... Fuck!!!!
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Sanji thinking robin just vanished or flew away and suddenly usopp is soaring thru the skies... imagine
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AAAAARGGGGHHHH YOU CAN SEE THE GEARS TURNING
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Zoro talking to merry..... only while he is alone of course
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Why are nami and sanji matching ajdhakjsk look at the citrus sisters
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Carpenter: maybe it was the government
Gov agent: I don't think so, also don't say that they are everywhere
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LUFFY SUPPORTS WOMEN'S WRONGS!!!
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Don't scream att chopper like that!!! Look at him... So small....
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Imu tease???? (No) (Also I've changed websites again bc the translation is kinda off , I can't find a good quality b&w spanish translation and the colors scare me (i want the real manga experience))
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GET HIM ICEBURG!!!!
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I truly forgor if this is just a lie about her wanting to find the rio poneglyphs or genuine because she wants to die and will do it for them... because in skypiea she says she is not interested in the weapons so maybe if the gov pardons her but considering what she wants is illegal then idk abdjabjs this is such a dumb thing to forget... like thats important girl where did it go (reading this after remembering and it's kinda funny... i will make any sacrifice to kill myself (and keep you safe)... she goes HARD)
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Little paulie and mozu and kiwi.... omg hello (the SBS says the twins wanted to be shipwrights too omg)
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Franky's backstory is small but it does so much for me like it is so central to the themes... boats and people...
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DID SOMEBODY ORDER MORE TRAGIC BROTHERS?
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The fact that franky needs to learn this lesson to pass it on to robin.... do you understand how big this is.... also Tom does exactly as he says and takes responsibility for franky and what he has done... because he has done nothing wrong AND THAT'S HIS SON and he just punched spandam bc he wanta him to feel the pain franky feels... Tom is such a man..... proud of having built eater 7 up with the sea train.... goes out with a boom.... should we all kill ourselves....
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I am crying again................... franky my god.... and the fucking frog!!! And of course franky can't stop Tom's hope for his island... of course he can't.... he hasnt learnt the lesson yet but this guy isn't over yet!! He has a life of being a pervert cyborg ahead!!! Iceburg following Tom's footsteps but franky not being able to do that bc of his guilt....
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This is one of the coolest things chopper has done btw...
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NAMII 😭😭😭
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Robin damning the world for her crew when all she has ever done is damn her companions for her own sake.... how big is this...
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I can't take this...... it's always nami in these positions... it happens AGAIN in Zou with Sanji... there is no way
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The love letter gag is too good like damn that's so funny
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AND IT'S NAMI GOING THROUGH IT AGAIN!!!! SHE LOVES ROBIN SO MUCH!!!!
#OOOH GRANDPA TEASE!!! he wanted to see luffy too?? omg and he owes garp a favor so he is going to kill him... alright then....#robin attacking FIRST and ZORO coming to her defense!!! CHEFS KISS!!! INCREDIBLE#my GOD!!! ROBIN WANTING TO LEAVE HER PAST BEHIND BC SHE TRULY HAS BEEN CHANGED BY THEM AAAAHHHH#this is so good... aokiji had to end crocodile and he still has a debt to someone (garp?) AND smoker told him stuff about luffy too#kokoro is such an mvp... be careful with the government agents she says.... hell yeah they should do that#the people in water 7 just giving advice to the pirates akdhaksjak sure go fix your boat but down there#robin laughing like ufufufu is so cute... also kalifa knowing everything bc she is literally a gov agent 💀 ICEBURG WAKE UP!!!#lucci pulling out the ship of theseus response akdhakaj conundrum solved everyone!!!#usopp is so heartbreaking already... beaten he goes to franky to get his money back knowing he will lose bc he wants to fix the merry... go#zoro cutting steel like its nothing... yeahhhhh also does luffy think the ship and usopp are like sanji and the baratie??#he wants to sacrifice himself for it but doesn't realize his life is the treasure and not the thing... luffy realizing this is not worth it#the fight was insane.... usopp feels useless and is enmeshed with the merry so he won't let it go and tells luffy does not care when he doe#so luffy gets mad at usopp for lying and not understanding what is going on and says he is not a carpenter (true but hurts) so he is nothin#god it is so bad... sanji breaking p the fight is so important AFTER zoro says to calm down and talk but they rile each other up...#THE DIALOGUE IS INSANE!!!! USOPP IN DENIAL AND LUFFY TAKES ALL OF HIS BAIT IT'S JUST SO AJDBAKSNSKN AND THE ONLY LIES ARE WHAT USOPP THINKS#ABOUT LUFFY!!!! BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO UNDERSTAND!! HE JUST FEELS!! HE SAW MERRY!! THE ONLY ONE!!!#luffy just laying on the hammock for hours... telling nami usopp wouldnt give up his life for an argument... then he only needs to fight...#is luffy fighting usopp just so he can de stress kind of??? like he is letting him get his punches in and then he will come back#once he thinks things through... like nami did... and what sanji ends up doing too... like just give him what he wants#luffy likes fighting friends even and this is the only fight he doesn't want.... the merry crying GOD!!!!#the impact dial... it hurts them both.... jesus.... luffy got two hits in but those were enough.... they are making nami cry SANJI KILL THE#everyone is crying but sanji and zoro akdjsks yeah luffy got him what he wanted... he can keep the ship but he can't beat him#and after all if strength is made by conviction luffy knows he is right and usopp is just in denial... so of course he would lose#franky reveal and Robin assassin reveal at the same time.... just remembered when usopp asked her specialty and robin said assassinations 😭#luffy nami adventures hell yeah.... and theres even more after the aqua laguna... LETSGOOOOO#goddamn you can see the thread of kuzan finding robin with the strawhats to then cp9 forcing her to act in water seven....#franky acting weird because he is worried about iceburg... i know it...#iceburg: its weird youre working for the government... but thats for the audience to worry about. not for me#pluton was built on water seven ✍️✍️✍️ also iceburg saying weapons are bad no matter who holds them... yeah franky would agree#reading one piece
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spill-to-t · 1 year ago
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Tell me, which movie made you cry the most (excluding any Disney movie, ‘cause the list would be too long)
Mine: Forrest Gump, Hunger Games and that terrifying owl movie Legends of the Guardians (I still believe this is not appropriate for kids 💀)
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chilkstuff · 1 year ago
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I think I saw this on a hc fic with mc and the housewardens (it legit made me cry) but I can’t remember where or who posted it (and I’ve been looking for that post for so long 💀) but the hc was where Grim’s magic pen started to get ink spots on it (because he kept using his magic) and he notices a little too late. But grim doesn’t overblot, instead it’s yuu who does.
Idk, I like the idea since both grim and yuu are connected in some ways, and grim is basically yuu’s “familiar” it would be yuu who has to deal with it, to transform into a inky mess.
But can you imagine? Yuu and grim finally snapping together, Grim on the floor crying or yelling as ink starts to form, everyone trying to calm him down until they see yuu approaching him, and they think “oh, the perfect will snap him out of it, they’ll calm him down.”
So yuu kneels down and gentle picks up grim who’s yelling, maybe scratching yuu a bit but eventually gives into yuu’s hug, and everyone thinking crisis avoided. But then they start hearing yuu’s words like “I know we’re both tired, but we’ll get through it together” or something and then suddenly, ink starts to leak from the both of them as grim and yuu hug each other tighter, and before anyone can do anything, it’s too late.
… like just imagine fr fr, and like if this is really grim’s overblot look, then like, ob!yuu would literally have a cool ass chimera grim as they both full on destroy everything in their path, I know that’s bad,,, but like cmon, who wouldn’t want a pet chimera.
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kithtaehyung · 1 year ago
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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg
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title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️
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Words abandon you.
They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 
All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 
Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 
Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 
“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 
“Course I do.”
Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—
“I was there.”
Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…
No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 
With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 
“I was.” 
The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 
You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 
Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 
It’s just not the right time. 
“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 
Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 
Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—
“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 
And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 
All the words around you just as speechless. 
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Just like that, you’re gone again.
After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.
Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 
Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 
At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 
Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 
As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 
And a little bit of summer rain. 
It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 
What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 
How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.
But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 
Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 
There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.
But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.
After three months of questioning his existence. 
All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 
And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.
Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 
Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.
The fuck.
Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.
Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.
And he doesn’t see your name.
Dumbass: 1 New Message
But your brother’s.
What the hell does he—
Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.
…Shit.
Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.
He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 
Shit. 
Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 
Why can’t he fucking move? 
Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 
Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 
Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.
“Hey, you coming?”
“Huh?”
“We have that session in thirty.”
The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 
“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 
Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 
But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.
“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 
Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over
Fuck!
“You okay?” 
“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 
“Nah, come now.” 
He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 
Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 
But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 
Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio
“On time? You better!”
Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 
As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 
“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 
Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 
“Shit, I know.” 
“We can’t keep doing this.” 
“Dude, relax, I get it.” 
“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”
Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 
“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 
Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 
And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 
“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 
Dumbass: Incoming Call 
Of fucking course. 
Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 
“Wait, where are the—”
Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 
“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 
“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 
“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 
“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 
Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 
“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”
“Shit.”
There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.
“Okay, fine.” 
Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 
Delusion is a great place to stay.
In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”
“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”
He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 
There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    
Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 
“Everything, Yoong.” 
But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 
So, so far away. 
“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”
Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”
“Just lemme know when you get back.”
Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 
“No running.”
“K.”
When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 
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“How did that sound?” 
Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 
“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 
Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—
“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 
“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 
Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 
Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.
Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 
Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—
“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 
What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 
Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 
Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 
Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 
“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 
“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 
Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 
“Kidding. Only a little.”
Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.
Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.
Choosing not to say what he wants to. 
Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 
…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?
Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 
“Do the chorus again.” 
The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 
“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 
“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 
Done. He said it. 
And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 
Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—
“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 
Huh. They’re gonna take that? 
As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 
The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Yeah, we can try that.”
“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”
Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”
“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”
Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 
“Let’s see how it sounds.” 
“K.”
Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.
A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 
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The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 
After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.
It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 
Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 
“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”
Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 
Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”
“Nothing.”
“You sure.”
At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 
But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 
Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 
Hustler: Incoming C—
Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 
But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 
Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 
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As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 
It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 
Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 
Hustler: Outgoing Call 
Straight to voicemail? Shit.
Hustler: Outgoing Call
Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 
Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 
Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 
That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 
Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?
Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 
It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 
Hustler: Outgoing Call 
When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.
Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 
Shit. How much of that did he witness?
“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”
Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 
“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 
“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 
And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 
Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 
To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”
Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 
An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 
Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.
What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 
No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 
“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 
Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”
“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”
What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,
“It’s the food next door, huh.”
That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.
Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.
Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 
And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 
“If there’s something you need to get through...” 
Stare, and stare, and stare some more.
“Hit it until it breaks.”
Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.
As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.
And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.
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Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 
And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 
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Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 
Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 
But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 
And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.
Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.
And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 
Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 
And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 
At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 
What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 
But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 
Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 
Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.
But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 
Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—
“I went to Jimin’s last night.”
…What. 
Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”
His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,
“Care to share what’s been going on?”
He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—
“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”
Fuck! 
Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—
Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.
“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”
All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—
Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.
And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 
“Can’t fucking believe you.”
When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”
“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”
Oh, fuck that. 
Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”
“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”
“Say it—”
“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”
Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.
…Motherfucker, what?
Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 
“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”
Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.
His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?
“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 
No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”
“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”
“So everything I heard was a lie?”
“Huh?”
“He told me!”
He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.
What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 
The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.
“You gonna say anything or what?” 
Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 
Even if it kills him.
“No, I, umm…” 
“No?” 
Just hurry up and fucking do it. 
Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 
His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”
What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.
In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 
“You sure?”
It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 
A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 
Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 
Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 
His ex? 
As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—
“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”
“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”
It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,
“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 
“Domestic?”
“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 
When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”
Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”
“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 
A sudden crack splits him through.
“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 
The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 
No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 
Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.
And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.
“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 
And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”
“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 
Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.
Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 
But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 
“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 
Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”
At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 
“I think she feels all alone.” 
This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 
“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”
Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  
You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—
“I’m heading out again.”
Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”
Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 
“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”
How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 
“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”
Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 
On the run.
“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 
“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”
Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”
At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”
And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…
Yoongi almost fucking confesses.
“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”
“You think so?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” 
The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 
Unprecedented.  
“You’re the best out of all of us.” 
Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.
And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 
After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”
Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”
“You still are.”
“Says you!”
“I still am, too!”
Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 
After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,
“Break up with her, Yoong.” 
Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 
“Yeah?” 
“It’s over now.” 
“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”
Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 
“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 
Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 
“You sure it’s over?”
“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 
“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 
“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 
Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 
Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 
For three. Fucking. Months. 
“I might.” 
“…K.” 
And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.
Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.
Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 
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Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.
But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.
And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 
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What time is it? 
All that greets him is darkness. 
Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 
Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 
He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 
Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 
Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 
He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 
And the darkness pulls him back under. 
Without even telling him the time. 
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Buzzing. 
Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 
Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 
Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 
Hustler: Missed Calls (6)
Dumbass: 1 Message
Hustler: 3 Messages 
Chim: 7 Messages   
Chim: Missed Calls (3) 
Holy fuck. 
With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 
“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 
“Mm.” 
“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 
“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 
Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 
“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 
Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 
There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 
“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”
Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 
“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”
Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 
Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.
But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.
So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 
“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 
Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 
Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.
But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 
Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.
“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 
“He told you?” 
“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 
“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 
“Ah.” 
Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 
“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 
“That it’s done.” 
A hum. 
“That’s very true.” 
There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 
When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.
“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 
“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 
A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 
“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 
What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 
“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”
Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 
“Where’s the fun in that?” 
“Knowing the answer.” 
At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 
“You’ll know it when you see it.” 
“Annoying.”
“Love you, too!” 
Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 
Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 
“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 
He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 
“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 
“K. Same time tomorrow?” 
“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 
That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 
“Relax! You will like it.” 
“Chim, I swear—”
“You’ll thank me later bye!”
As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.
Exactly where he always ends up. 
Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 
But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 
Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 
Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  
Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 
He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 
That sounds like fucking bliss. 
Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful
Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 
And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 
All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 
Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you
Fucking hell.
Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 
Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…
All he wants to do is see you, too. 
You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 
After all this time. All these days and nights. 
You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  
It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 
But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 
He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 
How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 
Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 
Something that isn’t broken. 
Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 
What. No way. 
From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 
And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 
Hustler: Incoming Call 
But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.
And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 
“Are we… is this over?” 
Fuck.
“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 
Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 
“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”
“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 
“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”
“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 
Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 
“Are you? With me?” 
Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 
“No way in hell, doll.” 
Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 
“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 
That’s okay. 
Because he’s had a day, too. 
“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 
Please keep going. 
Please don’t leave him alone. 
“Talk to me.” 
Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 
You’re so good at that. 
“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 
Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.
“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  
The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 
“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 
If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 
The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 
“Fuck, really?” 
“Yeah.” 
You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 
“What did he say?” 
Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 
“Oh, thank fuck.” 
Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 
“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 
Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 
And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.
“Me, too, baby.” 
Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 
Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You will?”
He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 
“Just a little longer.”
He has to.
“Okay.”
Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 
“Thank you.”
What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 
“For putting up with me.”
Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 
At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.
“Really?”
Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”
“Boo.”
Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”
“A ha… Yeah.” 
“What are you still talking to me for?” 
“I miss you.” 
Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 
Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 
“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  
God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 
“Why?” 
Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 
“Fuck.” 
Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 
He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.
“I hate you.” 
Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 
“Ha ha.” 
You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 
“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 
Wait. Did you…
Did you just pout? 
Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 
“Wait, huh? Why!” 
“Nothing.” 
“I swear to god—” 
“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 
“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 
The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 
“Kitchen.” 
The hell? “How’d you know?” 
“You’re always in there.” 
Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 
“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 
“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 
“The world said let them cook.” 
Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 
But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 
“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 
After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 
“You better sleep, too.”
“I will.” 
With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 
Because of you. It’s always you. 
Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”
“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”
Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 
There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 
“Okay. Good night, baby.”
One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 
“Night, doll.”
When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 
Right towards the corner that stares back. 
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It’s been five days.
But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.
Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 
And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 
When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 
…So what in the fuck was that?
You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 
Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 
He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 
This is so hard. 
The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 
Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  
Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo
Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 
No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 
Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.
So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.
Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.
There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 
What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.
Tonight.  
This man.
I got the next one.
This wonderful, charming man. 
But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:
Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 
Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 
After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.
The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 
A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.
Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.
You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 
And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 
Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.
Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?
You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.
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Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 
Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.
Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call 
When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 
“Hey.” 
All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 
But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 
“Hello?” 
“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 
You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 
He simply huffs a quiet laugh.
“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 
Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 
Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 
“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 
“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”
The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 
“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 
It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 
“Do better.” 
Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 
“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 
“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 
“I’m starting to regret this.”
“Regret what?”
“Everything.”
Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”
“I am.”
The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 
“That’s a given, though.”
“Excuse you.”
Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 
“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 
Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”
There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—
“I think we’re out of condoms.” 
Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 
“Wait. Or are we?”
Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”
And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 
“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”
“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”
“Nah, you don’t have to.”
“Oh. Found some?”
“No.”
Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”
And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 
And you want that to be the case forever. 
“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 
“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 
“Damn!” 
As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 
“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 
There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—
“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 
You clutch the wheel.
“Cus I want that, too.”
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One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 
Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 
It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 
“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  
“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”
His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 
“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 
“You could’ve asked somebody.” 
Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 
And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.
But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 
“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 
“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 
“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”
Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 
And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 
Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 
“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 
And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”
“Uh huh.”
Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”
“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 
Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 
But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”
Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 
Your turn to blink.
“And I needed food.”
This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 
“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 
The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 
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“Eat.”
The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”
“Mm.”
“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 
“Just a bite then.” 
Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 
There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 
Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”
A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”
The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”
“Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”
That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”
His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 
What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 
“Everything.” 
Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 
Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 
“It’s okay,” you whisper. 
After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 
You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 
“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 
You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 
“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 
There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 
“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.
And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 
“…Yeah.” 
Fuck. “About what?” 
“That you’d hate me.” 
Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 
“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 
Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 
“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 
He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 
He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 
“You do?” 
Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 
“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 
Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 
“Hmm?” 
He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 
“Always, doll.” 
And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 
If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 
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The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 
But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 
Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 
“Where we’re going.”
Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”
When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”
“Then why—”
He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 
But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.
“You comin’?”
Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 
Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”
And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 
“Yoongi!”
Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 
Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.
And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”
Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”
You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 
So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”
Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 
How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 
After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 
What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”
Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”
“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”
“So I shouldn’t bust in?”
Huh. “What?”
“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”
“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”
He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 
Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”
“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”
The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 
What is it with him and keys? 
When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 
“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”
You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 
How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.
When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!
A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”
With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 
“So fucking long.”
You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.
But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 
Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.
“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.
Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.
Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 
When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,
“You’re so cute.”
“How,” you ask just as softly.
And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”
Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.
But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 
“Eat.”
“Huh?”
“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.
When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.
Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.
If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 
Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.
And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.
The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.
“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 
And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.
…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 
No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 
And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 
Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 
But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 
Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 
Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.
And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”
You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 
“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”
“Thanks.” 
You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,
“You’re perfect, you know that?” 
Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 
“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”
Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 
“Good. You bored?”  
“Huh?”
Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”
“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 
You could do this for eternity, too.
“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”
This man. 
“Forever might be a stretch.” 
“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 
“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 
So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 
Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 
“It was kinda hot.” 
His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 
Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 
And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 
But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 
When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 
“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 
The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 
“And why is that?”
“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 
And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”
Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”
“Okay.”
But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”
“What.”
His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”
You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”
“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”
Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 
“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 
“Uh huh.”
“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 
Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”
“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”
“It’s mine, I just ran out—”
“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 
And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 
Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 
“Uh huh.” 
You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 
Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 
Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  
You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 
Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 
“Careful, doll.”
“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 
More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 
Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”
“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 
Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 
Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 
“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 
“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 
“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 
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For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 
At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 
But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 
Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 
Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.
Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.
But team jerseys? 
Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 
When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 
As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 
Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 
Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.
Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 
They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 
Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 
“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 
Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 
You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 
Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 
Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 
“Me?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Why me?” 
Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 
“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?
Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”
“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 
Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 
Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 
“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 
Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 
When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 
You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.
A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 
And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 
Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 
“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  
“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”
The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 
Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 
You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 
All you can do is stare back. 
And without even realizing. 
You’re already rubbing your arm.
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tbc. :((
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a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!
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a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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toji-bunny-girl · 1 year ago
Text
𝙎𝙖-𝙏𝙤-𝙍𝙪
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CHARACTER— yandere!gojo x fem!reader CONTENTS— yandere themes, stalking, hidden camera bear thingy, slight angst? IDKK gojo is just gross asf, noncon, intoxicated!reader, worshipping kink, DELUSIONALL‼️‼️‼️, slight fingering idk, sex yuh A/N— enjoy this masterpiece I wrote months ago (I no longer have the ability to write as good as I did) kinda weird but I literally had this dream a few days ago of a guy kidnapping me and bruising my ass with his initials 💀💀 scary asf and I remembered it hurts like a bitch anyway I have an exam later on so wish me luck 🤩 (repost)
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The lustre of his eyes glimmered against the reflection of the screen, his face turning rubicund was evidence of the blood rushing underneath his cheeks. Sweat flecked across his palms, marginally soiling his pants when he rubbed his hands on them.
Your eyes stared straight into his, and he thought your orbs must be of millions of blended colours for them to glint in iridescent. The sliver of rays from the screen pierced his irises, and he swore the sight of you must be cleansing his soul.
He sucked his lips as you played with the toy bunny’s hands, and a smile reached your face before you pressed the soft toy into your chest, clutching it in your arms as you sighed something. Something that started with Sa and ended with Ru. His mind must be playing tricks on him, right? It couldn’t be that—
Then there it comes again, the cadence of your voice, the shape of your lips, and his name that you whispered. Sa-To-Ru.
The Sa whose eyes would only trail behind your wake, the To that breathed just for the air that you exhaled, and the Ru that didn’t believe God lives in heaven, because there was you, his Goddess that walked the Earth amongst the sinful humanity.
Satoru. He thought he had never loved his name even more than that moment.
But he found himself wrong—oh so wrong.
You sounded even more euphonious sprawled out before him, intoxicated with alcohol on your tongue and in your veins—not a clue about where you are and what’s going on. All you could gather was the familiar mop of silver in your foggy sight, and how the world seemed to be on vertigo.
The bits and pieces of recollections you could grasp onto in your besotted state were the hours spent drinking bottles of liquor, giggling at the charming jokes and teases from Gojo. Then the clashes of teeth and his hands on your chest, the long ride up an elevator, and stumbling onto a bed that smelled like him.
“My name…” he panted when his head rose from your jugular—marked and claimed through teeth and tongue. “Say my name,” he repeated, pressing his lips against your jaw as he took in a drag of your ambrosial scent, long fingers pumping in and out of your squeezing cunt.
You frowned, moaning into the torrid air that bubbled around the two of you and arching your back when an orgasm tumbled through, warmth pervading through your core when pleasure glitched over your body like static.
His name doesn’t read past your lips, but your groan of pleasure was enough for him to render him halcyon. Lining his painfully pulsing head to your slick entrance, the dilatory push of his fat tip into your folds made a cry ripple through both of your throats. In you he found warmth that tasted like divinity; the forbidden fruit between the thighs of his Goddess.
He didn’t dare move, afraid that your grip would tempt an orgasm in him to soil your quim with his load. His thumb drew circles upon your clit, trying to mitigate the tight clench of your cunt in the wake of your previous orgasm.
Your muscles finally relaxed in a few rubs, and he let his length ease into you, your hole still pulsing and spasming as his cock filled your insides. Gojo’s chest fluttered with rapture as he groaned for your name, almost as if he was trying to have you look at him, fully sober instead of laying crumpled on his bed.
But you don’t, your eyes remained still shut, and only the little whimpers and cries that fell off the edges of your lips denoted your senses still awake yet torpor from the inebriation.
“Please, look at me?”
You groaned when he benignly lifted your jaw, his sense of deify for you felt through his cold fingertips before his lips meld into yours. Your mouth lax open, letting his tongue taste the heaven off of yours and swallow your saliva of ambrosia down his throat.
When he withdrew from your face with a dense cloud over your heads, he found the hues of your orbs peering into his summer’s blue sky, your eyelashes fanning the heat over his cheeks. His heart jumped and paced, and he was sure you could hear his heartbeat. Could you?
“Satoru…?” you whispered. The tang of liquor blazing strongly in your system, but you still managed to recognise him. “Wha–Where are we? And wha—”
You were cut off from your words when his lips crashed into yours, and his hips began pistoning in and out of you, your moans jumbled between your dancing mouths before sizzling in the hot air. Your walls tightened around his girth as he pumped deep into you, his cock throbbing and threatening ejaculation, but he would rather abnegate himself from pleasure if you hadn’t succumbed to it.
Every stroke of his swollen head against the bump of your g-spot made you gasp and cry with the stimulation, palms desperately attempting to push the weight of the male off, but it simply came to piteous futility.
At his last stroke, your squirting cunt squeezed his cock tight and wet his pelvis, and his load began filling your inside to the brim, thick spurts of cum shooting at your cervix as you screamed his name.
The Sa who you could taste on your tongue, the To who swore you’re the lone fire to his loins, and the Ru who promised to never let your divinity step a single foot out of his door—your temple, to walk the earth soiled by sinning humans.
Satoru—the priest to your Holiness.
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katiascraft · 3 months ago
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“am I too much for you? maybe I’m too much for everyone” | CL16
parings: Charles Leclerc x insecure!reader
summary: you feel insecure and you’re struggling but Charles makes sure you know how important you are to the world (specially his world).
now playing: “If I weren’t me” by Katherine Li
warnings: not English native speaker could there be errors. None proofread. Talk about sadness and destructive inner talk. Insecure reader. Readers pov’s.
words: +1,5k words.
a/n: heyyyy I am back!!! I disappeared for a year 💀 consistency it’s not my thing I guess. I’m finally finishing university this year!! So I guess I’ll have more time to write. Hope you like it! First on Charles. New obsession: F1 drivers. Get ready I got plenty more on my plans :p. Remember to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3
MASTERLIST
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The piano tiles made the sound of the soundtrack of my sadness in this moment. My fingers touched them softly like they were fragile - like me.
Today was a nightmare from the start. Since I woke up I had a knot in my stomach that became bigger and bigger as the time passed through my routine. Sometimes itʼs really hard for me to do daily tasks such as cleaning or even eating. And it was harder if I need to go to events or meetings.
I have episodes of deep sadness Iʼve been treating on therapy. Sometimes I just canʼt control it. Today was one of those days where black and grey took over everything I felt and did. One way I found by being suggested by my therapist was writing down every thought of pain to find kind of a relief. Today itʼs really hard. Iʼm struggling really hard.
Iʼve been alone the whole day. Charles had to go to the Ferrari factory and do his driver tasks as usual. When I woke up he was gone. And maybe that contributed even more to my desperate and pathetic situation. Though I shouldnʼt talk about it like that and be more gentle with myself. It always felt to me negativity has always been my best friend and worst enemy at the same time.
Playing piano helped me so much. Write a song about my pain. Try to give a little light to all of this mess I find myself emerged in. Itʼs really hard for me to open up and seek help when I need it. Specially when it comes to Charles. I donʼt wanna be a burden to him. And I donʼt wanna stress him out with all of my dark side. I always try to brush it off when heʼs around. Most times I just pretend Iʼm happy and everything itʼs alright. As if I wasnʼt feeling too much for him. Or too less. Like Iʼm not worth of his love. Of his attention. Of his smiles. Of everything he did for me.
The fact that Charles asked me out had me shocked. Iʼve never felt like I could compete with all the models and influencers and singers and every really beautiful girl in this world. Iʼve never felt beautiful nor attractive. Yes Iʼm pretty good making jokes. And I talk too much. But Iʼve always felt I cringed people out. Dating people wasnʼt a thing I was really good at. Actually I sucked. And I think I still do. Always overthinking and second guessing every move. Every promise. Everything.
Charles was so sweet to me. He said “youʼre beautiful. Iʼm sure people tell you all the time. But you really areˮ. I couldnʼt help but get really nervous and blush. The most beautiful man Iʼve ever seen was talking to me and saying all of that. I blinked a couple of times. My smile huge. I just laughed softly trying to brush it off.
Since then we became a team. Inseparable. Charles became my best friend. My rock. I donʼt know what I ever did to deserve his love. The way he loved me was so gentle. So caring and loving. At first was hard because his love language was physical touch and that was something I wasnʼt used to. But little by little I got used to and felt amazing. Iʼve never felt so comfortable with anyone but him.
I hate my body. I feel ashamed of my personality. Most times I feel so dumb. So stupid.
I didnʼt realized I was already crying when I felt my tears dropping in my hands on the piano. I didnʼt realized I kept playing in auto-mode. When I was conscious again I started crying badly. I started shaking. I felt so bad. So guilty for even feeling this way. I didnʼt realized Charles have arrived home when I felt his deep voice from behind.
“Baby... whatʼs wrong? Youʼve been crying for a whileˮ I heard his voice and that sent shivers down my spine. I try to hold it together because I feel so embarrassed heʼs seeing me like this.
He sat next to me and hugged me. I hid my face on his neck feeling contempt. Thing is I started crying worse. I couldnʼt control it once it took on me.
“Itʼs okay baby. Itʼs okay.ˮ He whispered on my head while he stroke my hair and my arm pulling me closer. I thanked him mentally for this. I never thought I needed it so much.
Took a while until I calmed myself in his body. I part from him slowly and whipped my face with my hands. After I did he did the same. He whipped my tears so gently. He did the same looking me with bright eyes. Worry was all over his face. I licked my lips. “Iʼm sorry.ˮ I said quietly almost a whisper.
He denided with his head taking my head into his hands and stroked it softly.
“donʼt be sorry baby. Iʼm worried. Whatʼs wrong? Iʼm sorry I wasnʼt home to be with you. Why didnʼt you called me?ˮ I could feel the worry in his voice deep and cracking.
“I didnʼt want to bother to be honest. Itʼs one of those days. A really hard dayˮ my tears wanted to go out again but I holded them.
I saw his eyes turned into a sad look. He leaned on me and kissed my cheek to hugged me strongly in his arms afterwards. I buried my head in his shoulder. His smell calmed me down. I holded him pretty close to me. Strongly as him. I didnʼt want to let go.
“do you wanna talk about what you are feeling love?ˮ He whispered softly. I swallowed hard and pulled away from his so I could look into his beautiful eyes. I loved his eyes. So bright so blue sometimes. To me they felt like staring at the ocean. I stroked his face gently. He grabbed my legs on the little couch in front of the piano it our living room.
“This is one of those days where I donʼt feel enough or maybe too much to handle... all of this darkness in me that sometimes I just canʼt control it. You deserve someone confident and happy just like youˮ I told him softly and honestly. And it felt good to take it out of me for finally. I wanted to cry again but I was making my best efforts to keep it together.
“Cher... you are more than enough for me. You are the most beautiful soul Iʼve ever met. The most beautiful woman Iʼve ever seen. You are the sweetest most caring and fun person. Always there for people. You have the brightest personality. Every time you enter a room you shine. Everyone smiles. To me youʼre happiness though I know that isnʼt the whole you. Youʼre human baby. You are allowed to feel. And to not be okay. And to be okay too. You are not a burden for me. Youʼre my best friend. Mon amour. My future wife. The one whoʼs always there for me. My shoulder to cry on. The one with the greatest jokes. The life of every party I assist. You give a meaning to my life. A reason to live. You are a great daughter. The best friend someone could ask for. The greatest sister. You are a light for every single person that knows you y/n. Donʼt ever feel that you are too much to handle. And I really wanna go and kill the people who made you ever feel you were, I sware. You are amazing baby.ˮ While he was talking you couldnʼt hold it together. You just started crying. He let you do it while he whipped your tears lovingly. He seeing you like this broke his heart. You didnʼt deserve to feel like this. And he wished he could take away all of your pain. That you could see yourself the way he sees you. And feel how happy and enamoured you made him feel. “You can talk to me every time you need itˮ he continued. “you can trust me and we can figure it out together. You donʼt have to go through it alone. Okay? I love you with everything I am y/n. If I could I would take all of this pain away and just make you feel how I feel about you. I promise to me youʼre even better than Carlosˮ he said lastly jokingly making me laugh through my crying.
Now he had a huge smile on his face knowing he could make you feel better. I gave him a peck on his lips as a thank you and as an I love you.
“I donʼt know what I would do without you Charles...ˮ I said sincerely and full of love in between the lines. He gave another kiss back but now it was deeper in feelings. We kissed for a while and it felt that as the kiss continued my pain was going away feeling better every second. After the kissed I hugged him tightly. He gave kisses to my neck making me giggle a little. “I love you Charlie. Youʼre my angelˮ I whispered on his shoulder and he tightened the hug in response.
“And you are mine chérie“ he said burying his face on my shoulder.
——————————————————————————————
Charlie won COTA 🥹.
Hope you liked it 💌 if you have ideas my inbox is open for requests!
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slutforsnow · 1 year ago
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*evil laugh*
imagine president!coryo with a bratty!reader. Coryo hates when people talk back to him or tell him what to do.
Since he's president, nobody tells HIM what to do. expect reader🙈
"don't talk to me like that."
"aw, did i make you mad? didn't know the president was a little cry baby."
then he fucks readers brains out <3
Hold Your Tongue
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Cw/TW: Coryo is his own warning tbh 💀, spanking, slut shaming? (HE WOULD), inappropriate use of piss, mean!Coryo, president!Coryo
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As much as Coryo loves his dear wife, she could be a bratty bitch. Thinking she could run her mouth off to her little friends about how much their sex life had gone down since he became president and now had to attend all these fancy balls, galas, parties, and whatnot. Sure, it was nice to see his wife all dressed up like a doll and looking sexy, but running her mouth off? That was over the line.
That's how the couple landed in this situation. She had begun to run her pretty little mouth again, and one of her friends had said something along the lines of divorce.
The second the young president of Panem had ensured all the guests had left, he had bound his wife to their shared bed by her wrists, using the special handcuffs he had made for them; engraved with his last name to make sure she understood her punishment. She was also stripped of her dress and lingerie she had worn underneath it.
"I cannot believe you would allow your friends to say something so stupid," He began, slowly unbuttoning his red corset-vest. "Of all the things you had to let slide, it was a topic of divorce?"
"What's so bad about it? She was joking and drunk, I doubt she'll remember it, Coryo," She retorted, pouting a little and tugging wrists forward to try and free herself. Coryo had a tendency go purposely leave the cuffs loose enough for her so she could claw at his back, leaving red marks and little crescent moons from her nails. This time, however, the cuffs were tight enough to where she could barely wiggle her wrists. "Now, loosen the cuffs, I wanna get my makeup off!"
He didn't take lightly to her demanding tone. "Don't talk to me like that," He spat, dropping his vest on the floor, which was soon followed by his dress shirt.
"Awh, did I make you mad? I didn't know the president was a-" She was cut off by a sharp THAWCK against her skin.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. She knew Coryo was pissed, but to spank her with his belt on her thigh?
"I told you not to speak to me like that. Now look at you; crying like a little whore because I punished you like one. Don't you dare cry because there's going to be a lot more where that came from," He threatened, glaring down at her. Before she could think, Coryo raised his arm again and another thwack echoed in their bedroom.
"Now, I think we need to revisit a certain setting," He added, tossing his belt to the side and kicking his dress pants to the side, along with his black boxers.
"Wha- huh-" She questioned, semi-dazed from getting spanked only twice. Whatever strength ran through his veins really knocked the wind out of her and replaced it with dopamine.
"Don't play dumb," He chided, slamming his leaking member into her tight cunt causing her to let out a loud cry of pleasure. He continued his harsh pace while pinching and twisting her hard nipples as he marked her neck and collarbone with hickies.
All she could do while he overstimulated her body was moan, mewl, and scream his name. He was fucking the brattiness out of her, reducing her into a brainless whore, but did he care? No, he didn't care. She was going to learn one way or another.
Feeling her walls squeeze and grip on his cock, he smirked, pounding faster into her, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen. Something felt off about it this time; he could feel the bulge, which was normal, but it happened.
As Coryo was fucking his wife's brains out, she pissed while she came and he stopped his ruthless fucking. As y/n was coming down from her sex high, babbling utter nonsense, Coryo watched piss and cum leak from her folds leak onto the bed.
It was... entertaining.
Smirking to himself, he decided to continue fucking himself balls deep into her cunt, which resulted in more cries of pleasure, well more of pain this time, as he fucked y/n harder than ever before. He had to watch it again, no matter how many times it took.
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Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings
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imdead770 · 1 year ago
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The Outsiders x Reader fluff - Sodapop Curtis
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Authors Note - I had to hype myself up for this because I procrastinate too much.
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Sodapop Curtis -
• I feel like writing this is so simple because this man is concerningly affectionate??
• There's so many sweet things he'd do
• Whenever he started flirting nobody even noticed because he's like that naturally
• Unlike Dallas he actually asked you out straight up.
• He almost threw up before asking you and was literally jumping up and down when he got home
• Darry had to grip his shoulders to keep him on the ground
• He wouldn't shut up about you??
• Before and after you started dating, you're his conversation
• The gang is so sick of it
• Your first date was so perfect
• He'd do everything
• Open doors for you, push your hair behind your ear
• 😭❤️
• Whenever you were driving to your date, he hyped himself up to hold your hand
• But when you beat him to it he almost wrecked the car
• He was smiling the whole time after that
• He was already smiling, but now it was full out grinning
• Compliments.
• Every fucking day.
• Your hair, your outfit, your body, your eyes, your voice, your personality
• Makes sure you know just how perfect you are everyday.
• Your first kiss.
• Fuck romcoms, this was so much better.
• 100% used some shit pickup line on the end of your first date just to kiss you
" darlin'.. what kinda lipgloss you got on? "
" strawberry.. why? "
" mind if I have a taste? "
• Screaming. Crying. Hollering.
• He was so surprised it actually worked
• Like Dallas, pet names are just normal at this point.
• Darlin', sweetheart, doll, baby
• Either that or some really sappy shit like sweetcheeks
• He's super sweet but I know damn well Sandy made a dent in him
• You know how he's super affectionate? He needs just as much affection.
• A lot of times you just lay down, hold each other and talk.
• You lying with your head on his chest, him playing with your hair as he talked about the time Steve nearly burned off his hair at DX.
• He's always toucuing you in some way shape or form
• Holding your hand, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives, kissing your cheek
• He's a PDA whore.
• Tries to help you with your homework but it ends up with him being way more confused then you.
" Hun, I gotta admit.. I ain't cut out for this. Go ask Dar. "
• Takes you out every Saturday
• Normally to the drive-in or some diner the gang talked about
• He's so loyal to you it's not even funny.
• Tells you every night about the girls who flirted with him at DX.
" You wouldn't believe it doll. I told her I ain't interested 8 times, everytime she just flipped her hair and kept on talkin'. "
• You always laugh your ass off because all these girls think they have a chance
• But you know damn well Soda would never do that
• One time a girl flirted with Soda infront of you
" You're real' sweet n' all, but I got a girlfriend "
" Aw cmon.. just cheat.. for me "
• The way you verbally harassed her.
• Sodapop nearly made out with you right then and there
• He 100% said I love you within the first month
• Almost cried when you said it back
• Talks about your future a lot
" How 'bout we name our kid Brooke? "
" I'm never havin' kids, Soda "
" Aw c'mon... can ya' imagine how good lookin' they'd be? "
• Kisses you an ass ton
• Always holds you close near the gang because he knows damn well half of them would fuck you given the chance 💀
• Saves up money to get you gifts
• Tries to remember the things you like for gifts but always scrambles it around
• Loves when you visit him at DX
• Makes his work days 11x better
• Literally so sweet to you
• You're crying? He'd literally drop everything to comfort you. Tired? He's already asleep with you.
• Talks about cars way too much
• Every day you have to explain you don't know what the fuck a carburetor is
• He's so used to having you around he has no idea how to operate without you anymore
• Like if you start sleeping together every night (keep it pg) and you have a school trip or something, he genuinely can't sleep
• He literally has to hold the pillow to sleep.
• Ponyboy was basically kicked out of the room because of you
• Still mad at you for that
• Your voice puts him to sleep
• If he lays on you while you're talking and you start playing with his hair, he'll literally be out in 2 minutes tops.
• He literally loves you so much and reminds you every chance he gets it
• The gang teases him but he doesn't care because you're way better than any of their girlfriends
• He's so perfect??
• Like you don't even understand how God did this.
• He's hot as hell, he's sweet, funny, caring
• He's the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.
• I love him so much 😔❤️
Steve's next
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syerra-637 · 7 months ago
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hey!! i'm a new follower and i'm very interested and love your work<33 can I request yuri briar (spy x family) have a huge fight with the reader because he's jealous of their coworker, he intimidates the reader and the reader can't move because he pinned them against the wall, and they start crying because he applied pressure on both their wrists and is scaring them, but only then does he realize he scared them, so he comforts them? (angst to fluff) sorry if it's too detailed!! and thank you so much <33
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Trigger Warning: Physical violence (wrist restraint), emotional intimidation, fear reactions, anything else? Type: One shot / drabble (I don't really understand the difference) Genre: Angst to fluff Word Count: 422 A/n: Tomorrow this request will be 2 years old, it was sent to me on June 16, 2024 💀 I'm not even sure if the person who requested it remembers
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Yuri didn't know why he felt this way. Irrational jealousy had overwhelmed him as soon as your colleague began spending more time with you. Every word exchanged, every shared laugh seemed to amplify the tension building inside him. And that night, the tension finally erupted.
"Why are you spending all your time with him?" Yuri spat out the words, his tone heavy with anger.
You tried to calm the situation, to explain that he was just a friend, but Yuri wasn't ready to listen. He moved closer to you menacingly, causing you to step back until you were against the wall. His gaze was intense, filled with jealousy he couldn't control.
He grabbed your wrists firmly, pinning them against the wall behind you. You felt the pressure on your arms, the brute force of his grip causing you to involuntarily lift your eyes to meet his gaze.
"Yuri, stop, you're hurting me…" your voice was weak, mixed with fear and confusion. Never would you have imagined seeing him like this, so far from the gentle, caring man you knew.
An instant of silence followed, during which Yuri seemed to realize what he had just done. His eyes widened slightly, realizing he had frightened you. The anger that had given him the strength to press you against the wall vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by deep remorse.
"Oh no…" he murmured, immediately releasing your wrists as if they were burning. His hands fell limply to his sides, completely dejected.
You slowly slid down the wall, tears welling in your eyes. The physical pain was already fading, but the emotional impact of this confrontation remained heavy.
"I'm sorry…" His voice was barely audible, full of sincere regret. Yuri knelt before you, his eyes desperately searching yours. "I didn't mean to scare you. I… I'm so sorry."
You didn't know what to say. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but seeing Yuri like this made all the anger suddenly seem so insignificant. You needed time to forgive, but you also knew he needed comfort.
Finally, you let your arms open, and Yuri rushed into them, resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapped around you cautiously, as if afraid to hurt you again. You stayed like that for a while, finding solace in this silent embrace.
"I'm really sorry," he repeated softly.
"I know," you simply replied, gently stroking his hair to show that you weren't angry, just hurt.
_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_
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gadriezmannsgirl · 7 months ago
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Hey! So I thought of this idea for Gavi, where yall have been dating for a while but he doesn't know exactly what date your birthday is and he ends up forgetting,but the reader doesn't mind because she's had bad experience with birthdays
This req has almost over a year, I'm truly sorry for the wait😭 but life's been pretty busy right now and I haven't had the time to sit down and write something😭😭 also, not prooferead😭💀
Calendar -P.G6
Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't know your birthday and you don't mind that, either.
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"Amor"
"Mhm?" You grunt eyes not leaving your book
"Can I ask you something?" You hum letting him know you were paying him attention "You won't get mad?"
"It depends" You simply answer "Probably not. What's up?"
"When's your birthday?"
Right there, you froze. You let the book on your lap and looked at your boyfriend.
You and Pablo have almost a year and half dating, he was the sweetest, most caring, responsable, respectful guy you've ever known. He knew and remembered every single detail of you and of your relationship, so it took you by surprise to hear that he didn't know your birthday.
However, you didn't felt any kind of dissapointment or anger, your birthday was just another day and after your 6 birthday, you stopped celebrating it because of a bad experience, so you were just confused.
"You don't know when my birthday is?" He slowly shook his head
"I... don't" He said, you could see the nerves on his face, he was waiting for you to get mad.
"It's ________" You reply looking at him, you smiled softly "Better now?"
He repeated your birthday date under his breath only to gasp.
"That was two weeks ago!" You nod "¡Joder! ¿Como puedo ser tan mal novio?" (How can I be such a bad boyfriend?) "Venga, let's get dressed to have some dinner. I need to buy you a gift, two in fact, one for the lateness and the other for your birthday. We also need to set tomorrow a small party with our friends and family. I need to buy a cake for you as well-"
"Nononono. What are you talking about? No need"
"What do you mean there's no need? Of course it's needed! It's your birthday, we don't turn 20 every single year, we need to celebrate it"
"Pablo, I don't celebrate my birthdays" You state grabbing his hands and trying to calm him down
"¿Cómo que no celebras tus cumpleaños?" (How's that you don't celebrate your birthdays?)
"I just don't. Ever since I turned 6"
"But why is that?"
"I had a bad experience at my birthday party" You shrug shaking your head
"Puta madre" He cursed making you smile "I didn't know that"
"That's weird. I thought you asked my mom everything of me" You joke with a smile on as he grips your thigh
"I asked you some things too" You laugh
"I almost got lost in my birthday party. It was in the park but I walked and walked far away from the party, my mom and dad were attending the invited so my aunt was the one who had to look out for me and she did until her attention drifted to a kid who had fell from the swing"
"I spent around 5 hours lost in the park, it started raining and it got dark quickly, I was crying and shaking from the cold. My parents found me and I could only grip myself to them so bad. I didn't wanted to spend the rest of my birthday there, I didn't even wanted to eat the cake nor open the presents, nothing. And that day I couldn't be separated from my mom, I glued myself to her"
"It sounds pretty stupid but I was so afraid of them not being able to find me and stuff. So I just kinda stopped celebrating my birthday because it reminds me of that not-so-good time"
"It's not stupid, amor. And I'm sorry"
"Why are you sorry for?"
"I didn't know about that and also I made you remember it"
"It's ok, baby. You didn't know but now you do"
"Can I just give you a small gif and an ordinary cake then?" You smile
"I'll make a small exception for you and only this time" You kissed his lips standing up "Where are we going for dinner?"
°°° °°° °°° °°°
Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela
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luckykiwiii101 · 8 months ago
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Omg omg Kiwi!!!
So I have been persisting with your challenge for about 3 days now (I was late to join lol) and I made it into the void for a couple seconds last night before I got scared and left. I wanted to share this with you so that other people can have hope. AND I did this through hard circumstances!
Also TW d3ath, c4nc3r, d1v0rc3.
.
.
So, ever since I started affirming that I was “in control of my reality” and that “I am a master at the void state” I noticed that the 3D started to test how persistent I am. Maybe I had a subconscious belief that the 3D would test me, but I chose to persist.
In the 3D: My parents have been divorced for two years and now always fight with each other. This weekend, my dad told us he wants to date the person he cheated on my mom with. And one of my grandparents got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer yesterday.
Now, I was still sad about my circumstances, I still cried about it. However, as soon as I was done letting myself feel my feelings, I went straight back to affirming.
I affirmed robotically. I didn’t do it continuously because I get migraines easily, but I would remember to do it whenever I had thoughts I needed to flip.
Ex: My life sucks —> I am living my desired life
I even visualized my desired life to distract myself from the 3D. Because as Kiwi says, the 4D (your imagination) is what creates reality. So, call me cruel, but when I found out about the diagnosis I did not cry. I was absent minded because I knew that it would change in an instant if I wanted it to.
My (short) void experience
Last night I went to bed and ngl I forgot to affirm before sleeping 💀. Buttt I woke up sometime later and I noticed my room looked a little weird and that’s when I knew that I was lucid dreaming. I had never lucid dreamed before, so I was shocked how real everything felt. The only thing that I noticed that made me realize was the fact that I had 6 fingers. I automatically started saying “I am in the void” and then I felt my consciousness start to float out of my body. And then for like 2 seconds it was pitch black and I couldn’t hear anything but my own voice in my head. But I got scared and left right away. I awoke back into the lucid dream and then awoke in this reality.
I’m definitely going to enter again! And Kiwi, I wanna thank you so much for this challenge, without it I would have probably been stuck in a cycle of doubt and laziness forever. Btw I love your blog 💗
TL;DR: Circumstances don’t matter, only the 4D matters. Robotic affirming is key.
THIS IS AMAZING!!!!
I’m sorry for your hard circumstances but the way you carry yourself so confidently around them is amazing!!! You’re not cruel for not crying, you’re just stepping into your own power and acknowledging that you can bend anything to your will at any instant!
Can’t wait to hear your success story!!💗
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v3suvia · 3 months ago
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On Diomedes of Argos.
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Typically, when people think about their favorite heroes of the Trojan siege, they think of the likes of Achilles, or Odysseus, or even Agamemnon (or if you’re based, Hector.) And while these are all valid to whatever extent— because let’s be real, no one is choosing favorites based on who has the purest moral standpoint— they’re not exactly remembered for the noblest of reasons.
Achilles spends half of the Iliad inside his tent as a sulky burrito, and the other half slaughtering Trojans and crying over the consequences of his own actions. Odysseus is a chronic liar, and Agamemnon is Agamemnon. But at the end of the day, they’re still remembered (for better or for worse, really.)
Though, on the topic of Homeric heroes, I feel there is one who is often overlooked despite achieving great feats over the course of the epic; Diomedes of Argos. (Note: arguably the most metal of the Achaean heroes at Troy.) So, let’s rant talk about him!
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Diomedes was one of the key players in Homer’s Iliad— a recount of the last year of the Trojan siege. Being summoned to fight under oath, Diomedes headed his fleet of 80 ships to Ilium. As well as having a whole chapter dedicated to how kickass he was [read more about that whole thing here], the king of Argos was also a master strategist, and extremely noble— not just in his war efforts.
For example, there are multiple points in the Iliad where he checks the leader of the Trojan expedition, Agamemnon, calling him out on his cowardice or for otherwise being an inadequate leader, [Book 9; ‘Agamemnon, I will begin by taking issue with you over your proposal… do you really believe the Greeks are the cowards and weaklings you say they are? If you for one, have set your heart on getting away, then go.’] [‘Zeus has granted you many things… He gave you the sceptre of power and the honour that comes with it, but he did not give you courage— and courage is the secret of authority.]
And one instance where he truces with the Trojan hero, Glaucus— both of them exchanging armors (on an active battlefield, btw) to honor the fact that their grandfathers had been allies, [Book 6; ‘So let us avoid each other’s spears... And let us exchange our armor so that everyone will know our grandfather’s friendship has made friends of us.’]
He is also one of the only soldiers in the war who avoids committing hubris in the entire epic, which is probably the most telling of all his virtuous traits.
Diomedes also has a proverb named after him! ‘Diomedean Necessity/Diomedean Compulsion', which basically means when someone does something for the greater good (despite the reluctance of the person in question.)
This is taken from the myth of Odysseus and Diomedes taking the wooden statue of Athena— dubbed the Palladium— from Ilium. During this heist, Odysseus tries to stab Diomedes in the back to steal the acclaim of taking the Palladium for himself.
Rather than punishing Odysseus on account of betraying his ally for personal gain, Diomedes ties him up and drags him back to camp instead, because he knew the Greeks couldn’t win the war without Odysseus’ wisdom.
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Anyway, why the rant? Sure, I could sit here and convince you that he’s the coolest Greek hero, but what would I be trying to accomplish in doing so? Well, it’s simply because while every other Homeric hero is recognized and represented in modern media, Diomedes isn’t.
He wasn’t even mentioned once in Troy (2004), the film adaptation of the Iliad! Despite him being the focus of multiple chapters in the book, as well as playing a big role in the Achaean army’s over-all victory.
I’m sick of everyone (and by that, I mean most modern media) depicting him as though he was just some dude™ in the Iliad when he was actually (from a mildly biased standpoint) one of the best of the Achaeans at Troy.
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TLDR; Diomedes of Argos = Based. He solos ur favs (probably. He almost killed Ajax the greater at Patroclus’ funeral games 💀)Put him in more movies/shows/games so me and the other two Diomedes fans can be happy.
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slut4thebroken · 2 years ago
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Russian Roulette
Pairing | Mitch Rapp x reader
Summary | Assassin!reader won’t talk. mitch knows just what to do to fix that Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, gun play, fear play, degradation, cnc (barely), breeding, face fucking, crying, edging, light praise, choking, brat taming, deep throating, Words | 8k Notes | Here it is folks! The long awaited russian roulette fic😌 I do plan to edit this again and republish it in the future but I’m happy with it for now. Enjoy!! (p.s. I’m more likely to post stuff that isn’t completely perfect in my eyes (even tho it’s literally still good lmao) if I have positive reinforcement😭 just an fyi if y’all want more💀) Ao3 link | <3 Masterlist
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It was supposed to be a simple mission. One you’ve done hundreds of times by now.
Seduce the target, then kill the target.
Every mission, your boss gives you a name, picture, location, and time. That’s how you found yourself at a hotel bar, wearing a skimpy dress and strappy heels, waiting for Mitch Rapp.
You’re excited for this one. Usually the men are either old perverts or young, inexperienced, and cocky. But every once in a while there'd be a man who’d challenge you. A man who made the game exciting. And Mitch seems like that kind of man.
You sipped your drink and looked around the bar. Finally you saw him walk in. He went to the opposite side of the bar and ordered a drink. When he looked up, he caught your eyes. You didn’t look away and just gave him a small smile. His face was emotionless but you didn’t let that deter you. You leaned forward with your elbows on the bar, pushing your breasts together, and watched as his eyes followed the movement. When his drink was set in front of him, he grabbed it then started walking toward you, making you laugh internally. Men are so easy.
“Hi.” You said, setting your drink down after he sat next to you.
“Hi.” His voice definitely matches his face.
“I’m Evelyn.” You lied.
“Dylan.” He lied as well. Your targets were rarely smart enough to use a fake name, usually too focused on your tits and the promise of a good fuck instead.
“Do you live around here?” You asked, twirling a piece of hair around your finger.
“No. I’m here on business.” He took a sip of his drink and looked you up and down, this time spending more time on your legs.
“Oh me too. Well, business and then a little vacation time before I have to go back.” Which was another lie. You never stay anywhere right after a mission. “Although I do have time for some fun before I have to work.” You gave him a small smirk and crossed your legs, making your dress ride up your thigh.
“Oh yeah? How much time?”
“Probably a couple hours. My boss is flexible.” Lie. He hates when you’re late. But you’re horny and, target or not, there’s a hot man in front of you. He can wait a little longer than planned.
“What do you say, Dylan? Wanna keep me company for a few hours?” You set your hand on his thigh lightly. When you started sliding it up, he grabbed your wrist, his fingers completely encircling it. Probably to keep you from finding a concealed weapon.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He said lowly.
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” You bit your lip, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “C’mon, let’s have some fun.” You leaned your face closer to his and felt his grip on your wrist tighten.
“I promise I’ll be a good girl.” You whispered, breath fanning against his lips. His eyes roamed your face for a few seconds before suddenly using his grip to pull you from your seat, over to the elevator. You’re thankful your purse was already on your shoulder because you definitely wouldn’t have remembered to grab it… And you definitely need it to finish the mission. Not that you can’t kill someone without a gun, it’s just easier.
You entered the elevator and he pushed the button for his floor. When the doors closed he slammed your back against the wall and pressed his lips to yours, making you moan in surprise. His hands gripped your waist tightly and yours went to his hair. He kissed you passionately, his tongue fighting for dominance with yours. When he rolled his hips into you, you pulled back with a gasp. He was quick to move to your neck, pressing kisses and leaving hickeys along the sides. You moaned again and his hand snaked down your leg then up your dress on the outside of your thigh.
“Oh my god!”
You both pulled away quickly. An older lady stood outside the elevator with her mouth open in shock. You hadn’t even heard the elevator ding. Mitch checked the floor number then swiftly exited, pulling you behind him.
“Sorry.” You gave the lady a sheepish smile as you walked past her. You entered his room quickly and he slammed you against the wall again. When his lips met yours, you started trying to push his jacket off his shoulders. He obliged then pulled back to take his shirt off.
You were too horny to think about what the proper reply should be when someone has scars like this. Maybe that’s what gave you away.
He pulled your purse off your shoulder and threw it on the dresser next to you. You internally cringed when it landed with a really loud thump, seeing as your phone and gun are both in it.
He kissed you again and started sliding both of his hands up the outside of your thighs, this time making sure to pull your dress up. He placed his leg between yours and you stifled a moan. When he bit your lip, you gave in, starting to grind on his thigh. His hands reached your hips and he gripped them tightly, forcing you to continue rocking against him.
Mitch moved to your neck again, leaving more hickeys and occasionally biting the sensitive skin. He reached your collar bones and continued down your chest but pulled back when he reached your dress. He looked at you with dark eyes then placed his hand on your neck. You gasped and started rutting against him harder.
He leaned his head down next to yours, putting his mouth by your ear, then whispered, “Who are you?”
“W-what?” You didn’t register the question, still focusing on grinding against him. He leaned back to look at you and tightened his hand on your neck, making you release a choked moan.
“Who the fuck are you?” Your hips stuttered to a stop. Shit. They never figure it out until there’s a gun to their head. Maybe he means something else. “Who do you work for?” He said, harsher this time.
Okay so he definitely doesn’t mean something else. Fuck. He slammed your head against the wall and you winced.
“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dylan, you’re scaring me.” You said quietly.
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He growled. He tightened his grip, and even pushed on your windpipe, making you claw at his hand, trying to remove it.
“You’re hurting me.” You whimpered, feeling tears pool in your eyes from the lack of oxygen. “Dylan, please.” You gasped, letting the tears fall- all of it adding to your performance. His grip loosened and your chest heaved, trying to take in as much air as possible. Finally you caught your breath and then made your move- it’s too risky to stay in this position when you don’t know what he’s capable of.
You punched him in the nose and he stumbled back, clearly surprised. You ran the couple of steps to reach for your purse but were yanked back by your hair until you landed on the ground in front of him, his gun aimed at your head.
“Who are you?” He asked again, his voice harsher now.
There are three ways you can play this. Accept your fate, continue with the act and hope you fool him, or fight and finish the assignment. In reality, there was only one option because of your ego.
“Honestly I’m surprised you figured it out so soon. Most of them don’t until they’re already dead.” You smirked, looking up at him. “Although the few that do figure it out usually are smart enough to try and get their dick wet before doing anything.” His face remained emotionless and it only spurred you on.
“What gave me away?” You started taking off your heels, preparing for a fight or a quick escape. “C’mon Mitch,” You continued when he didn’t reply, “I gotta know how to improve for my next job.”
“Who are you?” You kept looking up at him and moved onto your knees, not giving him an answer. Suddenly, his gun hit your temple, the force making you fall onto your hip. You brought your hand up to feel the injury, no blood at least but it’ll definitely bruise.
“Fucking, dick! What was that for?”
“It’s going to get a whole lot worse for you if you don’t start answering my questions.”
“What are you gonna do? Shoot me?” He cocked the gun and held it closer to your head making you chuckle. “You won’t do that.”
“Why’s that?” He deadpanned.
“Because your dick’s still hard.” You whispered, placing a hand on his bulge, waiting for him to remove it. He looked you up and down and you could only imagine what you look like right now. Because based on what you can feel, your dress is dangerously low on your chest and high on your thighs, and not to mention the number of hickeys you probably have. He put his gun in the waistband of his pants behind him and you smirked triumphantly.
Mitch crouched in front of you and you tried to plan how you could grab either his gun off him or your own. One hand fisted your hair and roughly pulled your head back, making you gasp.
“I’m going to ask you again. And I’m going to keep asking and hurting you more and more until you finally tell me.”
“Who are you?” You kept your mouth shut and stared at him. He removed his hand from your hair to land a swift punch on your cheek before grabbing it again. The dull throbbing hurt like hell but you kept your poker face.
“Who do you work for?” When you didn’t answer, he punched you twice this time. You could taste the blood in your mouth and you debated spitting it in his face.
“You’re wasting your time. You might as well just kill me.” You wiped off some blood you felt dripping on the corner of your mouth. “I’ve been trained to endure every type of torture in the book.” He examined you again but this time you grew nervous under his gaze. Finally he hummed and stood up.
“You’re right. I’m going about this all wrong.”
“What?” You barely got the word out before he grabbed your hair again, lifting you off the floor and throwing you onto the bed. “What the hell are you doing??” You scrambled backwards to the head of the bed when he started moving toward you.
“Luckiky for you, I know a type of torture that’s not in the book. Take your dress off.”
“W- no!” He sighed and got on the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you until you laid on your back. Mitch grabbed the hem of your dress and ripped it in half easily. You wanted to be angry with him so badly… but the horny part of your brain is outweighing any logic right now.
He pulled the shreds of fabric off your body until you were left in just underwear- foregoing a bra earlier because of the dress’s low back.
Mitch straddled your hips and placed a hand on your neck, leaning down so his nose brushed yours. You closed your eyes, waiting, but you only felt his breath fan against your lips as he chuckled.
“You’re lucky I don’t just kill you right now.” He rasped. His hand moved up to grip your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. “What do you say when I’m being so generous?”
Fuck you. Is what you wanted to say.
“Thank you…” You muttered, looking at the wall next to you. You assumed Mitch was satisfied because he released your face and sat up. He dragged his nails down your ribs and you hissed at the sting. Finally he reached your underwear.
“Such a fucking slut.” He mumbled under his breath and you bit your tongue. “No bra and this pathetic excuse for underwear? Baby, you’re just asking for it aren’t you?” He cooed. You wanted to beat the patronizing tone right out of him, but you couldn’t help the reaction you actually had. He smirked when he noticed you clenching your thighs together beneath him.
Mitch grabbed your underwear and ripped it in half, a lot easier than your dress. He removed the fabric and you started squirming under him. His hands held your hips still and his thumb brushed across your mound, teasing you. You bucked your hips and whined.
“Oh I’m sorry. Did you want something?” You glared at him and his smirk returned.
“You know, if you don’t know how to please a woman you can just say that. You don’t have to drag it out and stall.” His smirk immediately turned into a scowl and he raised his hand to hit you again but froze when he heard an unfamiliar phone go off. He got off you and you started to sit up but he grabbed his gun, pointing it at you.
“Stay.”
You rolled your eyes at the command. He grabbed your purse from the dresser and walked back over to the bed, gun still aimed at you.
“That’s my boss probably wondering where I am.” You said when the ringing stopped.
“I thought you said he’s flexible.”
“I lied.”
The ringing started again and he pulled the phone out of your purse. He looked at the unknown number then to you.
“You’re going to answer and you’re going to lie. Otherwise it’s a bullet in your head. Understand?” You nodded and he answered the phone, putting it on speaker.
“What’s taking so long?” He snapped.
“I’m just wrapping up. I’ll be in tomorrow instead of tonight… This guy was a lot more trained than you said.”
“You better not have slept with him again-“
“That literally happened one time and I still finished the assignment. How many more times are you going to bring it up?” You asked, very annoyed and wanting to get back to Mitch. Speaking of him, you looked up at him and saw his eyebrows were raised. You just rolled your eyes and flipped him off.
“Don’t be late.” The call abruptly ended and you found yourself wondering why you had covered for him. You’re not afraid to die… but it was almost instinctual to lie to your boss and that scared you. Because if Mitch had the power to make you do that… what else could he make you do?
You cleared your throat and looked up at him. He tossed your phone on the floor then continued digging through your purse. He pulled out your revolver and smirked.
“Cute.”
“Yeah I bet you’ll think it’s really cute when one of those bullets goes through dick-“
“Watch your fucking mouth. That’s your final warning.”
“Or what?” You challenged him. He set your gun on the bed behind him and kneeled over your hips again.
“Open.” You kept your mouth shut as tight as possible and he sighed. Mitch grabbed your cheeks and forced your jaw down then slid his gun into your mouth. You gagged at the taste and tried to get away from it but he was practically holding your head down. When you gagged again, this time it was because he shoved it further into your mouth. You felt tears well up in your eyes, then fall down your temples.
“Poor baby, crying over a few inches. How do you think you’re going to take my cock if you can’t even take this, hm?” You attempted to whine around the gun but it just sounded like a garbled moan. Mitch fucked his gun in and out of your mouth slowly and you continued to squirm under him.
“Careful, baby. One wrong move and I could accidentally pull the trigger. We don’t want that now do we?” You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, your body going stiff.
“There you go.” He purred. You continued gagging and crying, just wanting to be done with this part already.
“Take it.” He uttered softly. After a few more long seconds he removed it, a trail of saliva connecting the barrel and your lips. You coughed and tried to catch your breath, then looked up at him through your lashes, your lips were slightly parted as you panted.
He reached up and placed a hand on your cheek. You tried not to read into it when you leaned your head against his palm. His thumb wiped the remainder of your tears, then moved down to trace your lips. He just barely put his thumb in your mouth when you closed your lips around it and sucked lightly. You swirled your tongue around his finger, then opened your lips slightly. He removed his thumb, dragging your bottom lip down on the way out.
Your thighs were squeezed together and you bucked your hips before you could stop yourself. He chuckled and removed his hand from your face, groping your breasts instead. You gasped when he pinched your nipples and then winced when he tugged even harder.
“Ow.” You mumbled. He ignored you and did it again. “You know, you don’t have to be so rough with it. It feels perfectly fine when you do it lighter.”
“Oh I know. But here’s the thing,” He leaned down in front of your face, “I’m not trying to make you feel good, and I especially don’t care if it feels good or not.” He glanced at your lips, then leaned back up.
“I’m going to keep hurting you. And if your slutty little head can’t tell the difference, that’s not my fault.” He shrugged and you pouted.
“There’s not even a small part of you that wants to make me feel good?” You looked up at him through your lashes. His hands grabbed your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your stomach.
“You know, usually when someone tries to kill me… that’s not a very good incentive for me to pleasure them.” You just rolled your eyes.
“But I understand why you’re confused, baby.” His tone was dripping with condescension. “Because we both know you’re not leaving here alive and yet, I’d bet you’re all too willing and eager to please me.” You scoffed and he raised his eyebrows, as if to say am I wrong?
“Tough luck.” You snickered, feeling his grip tighten on your waist. “I’m a pillow princess. So I’m perfectly content right here.” You smirked and tilted your head slightly from its place on the pillows, as if to give him a physical example of just how content you are. He gripped your neck in one hand, the other holding himself up on the bed next to your shoulder while he leaned over you.
“That may be true, but even as a pillow princess I can tell you’d do just about anything for some praise.” You felt your cheeks heat up at that. There’s no way you’re this easy to read…?
“Please.” You scoffed. “I wasn’t loved enough by my daddy and now I’ll do anything a man asks in bed? Is that it?” You said sarcastically.
“No I don’t think it’s that.” Mitch tilted his head, studying you. “I think, being a female assassin, you rarely get the recognition and praise that you deserve. So you crave it in other forms.” You swallowed, your neck moving under his palm.
“What is this, a fucking therapy session?” You spat, growing uncomfortable under his gaze.
“No.” He smirked. “I’m just having some fun by getting under your skin.”
“Or are you just stalling cause you’ve never been with a woman before?” You flashed an innocent smile as his hand tightened on your neck. “Or is it that you can’t get it up? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Mitch. Impotence isn’t uncommon.” You feigned seriousness, almost laughing at his expression.
Eventually though, he just chuckled darkly and your stomach dropped a little. He grabbed your ripped underwear and shoved it in your mouth. You looked at him with wide eyes, but before you could do anything, his hand was leaving your neck and sliding down your stomach. He reached your leg and traced over your hip bone, not going down any farther. You tried to spread your legs under him but you barely moved.
Mitch leaned up then settled between your legs on his knees. He grabbed your hips roughly and dragged his nails down your thighs, touching you just about everywhere except where you actually wanted him to.
You whined, squirming and opening your legs wider. Finally, his fingers ghosted over your clit, making you instantly buck your hips into his hand. To retaliate, he slapped your clit, hard, and shot you a warning look. You choked on a gasp at the sting but it faded quickly.
His fingers lightly dragged down your clit to your folds, then back up to start again. You were just about to rip the underwear from your mouth and tell him to hurry up when a finger entered you. You let out a muffled moan and closed your eyes, tilting your head back. He curled his finger inside you over and over again until you were bucking your hips against his hand. He inserted another finger and you let out another relieved moan.
This continued for a few minutes until you felt yourself nearing the edge. His palm pressed down against your clit, adding even more stimulation. Your hips were rocking against his hand and your eyes closed as you were about to come. He pulled his hand away suddenly, making you whine loudly.
“Ready for some torture?” Mitch smirked and you pouted around the makeshift gag. His fingers entered you, picking up where they left off. You fisted the sheets in both hands and arched your back slightly as you got close again. He stopped and you cried out as you came down from the edge for a second time.
“You gonna answer me now?” He looked at you with a dark glint in his eyes. He wasn’t really asking since he didn’t remove the gag to let you speak. “That’s fine. I have all night.” He curled his fingers inside of you and picked up the speed, making you release a muffled moan. He edged you a few more times- after the fourth time you started losing count- and you were so desperate that you were on the verge of tears.
You tried talking around the underwear in your mouth but it just came out as incoherent, muffled sounds. He removed it and you didn’t waste a second before begging.
“Please- I want…” You cut off with a sharp inhale when a third finger entered you, “I want to come. Please make me come.” He was silent for a moment and then he removed his fingers, sucking your arousal off of them quickly.
“How about this?” He picked up your gun and took out the bullets, leaving one in, and then spun the cylinder. “I’m going to shoot this four times,” he leaned over on his elbow, aiming the gun at your temple, “and if you’re still alive by the end of it, then you can come.” You choked on a gasp and his fingers brushed your entrance again.
“If you’re not alive by the end of it…” He leaned down so his nose almost brushed yours, “Well, I’m still going to fuck you.” He whispered with a dark look in his eyes that made you shiver. He inserted his fingers again and you whimpered at the intrusion.
“Ready?” He smirked, cocking the gun. You shook your head and furrowed your brows.
“N-no, I don’t-“ You flinched when he pulled the trigger, the click deafening right next to your ear because of the sudden fear you got hit with. You shuddered and squeezed your eyes shut.
“One.” He rasped. You whimpered and shook your head more.
“M-Mitch, I-I don’t wanna…” You gasped out.
“Why not, baby?” He worked his fingers inside you faster now. “I thought you wanted to come?” And the thing is… you do. You want to come so fucking badly. The gun aimed at your head is only adding to the growing knot of arousal in your stomach. But you watched him load the gun. And you have every reason to believe that he truly doesn’t care whether he fucks you before or after he kills you. While the thought makes you clench around his fingers, you’d rather be alive for that.
“Just three more, princess. I know you can take it. You wanna come right?” The saccharinity in his voice was quickly taking down all of your defenses. You nodded hesitantly, still shaking out of fear and arousal. He pulled the trigger again, the sound making you release a choked sob.
“Two more.” You felt tears welling in your eyes quickly. You’ve dabbled with fear play as a kink in the past, but it was never anything like this. He inserted a fourth finger and you whimpered at the stretch, but didn’t tell him to stop.
“You deserve this, princess.” His fingers contrasted the gentleness in his tone. “Maybe I should just fire all six rounds.” You moaned through a cry, feeling too overwhelmed emotionally and physically. “Cause we both know your holes are all you’re good for. At least when you’re dead you won’t be able to talk.” He fired the third shot and you felt the tears start to fall.
“Poor thing. Are you scared?” He cooed softly and you nodded with a whimper. “Little girls like you shouldn’t be carrying weapons around. It makes it too easy for just anyone to turn the tables and have you at the other end.” The way he reprimanded you was infantilizing. And you hated the fact that you don’t hate it…
“I-I’m sorry.” You whimpered, not sure what else to say.
“You’re so fucking pathetic. Look at you, humping my hand.” You didn’t even realize you were doing that. “Even with a gun to your head you’re still only thinking with your cunt. That’s why you’re a shitty assassin.” He whispered the last part bitterly.
“Dumb little whores like you aren’t cut out for this, you know why? Because you’d rather fuck your target than finish the assignment.” He ground the palm of his hand down hard on your clit, making you moan. “Say it, princess. Say ‘I’m a dumb whore who only thinks with my cunt.’” You whined loudly in protest, but he pressed the gun hard into your temple, reminding you of your position right now.
“I-“ You cut off with a choked sob, “I’m a…” You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed.
“Open your eyes, baby. Open your eyes and look at me.” You complied. “There you go. Now keep looking at me and say it. Don’t make me tell you again or one more shot will turn into two.”
“I’m a- a dumb whore who only thinks with my- with my cunt.” You whispered and Mitch looked satisfied.
“You ready to come?” You whimpered and nodded eagerly, thinking he’d let you come before firing the last shot. “Then just one more, baby.” Your stomach dropped and you felt the fear come back, full force. The coil in your stomach was about as tight as it could get and you tried to come before he could have a chance to fire another round, but your body would not obey you.
“Ready?” You choked on a sob and shook your head. “Oh come on, don’t be such a little bitch about it. Do you want to come or not?”
“Yes!” You cried.
“Then beg.” He said and you paused.
“W-what?”
“Beg me to shoot you so you can finally come, humping my hand like a fucking bitch in heat.” He growled, his fingers somehow going faster. You stared at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.
“Go on, baby.”
“Please…” You mumbled.
“Remember what I said would happen if I had to tell you again?” You swallowed, giving him a small nod.
“Please s-shoot me…” You whimpered, eyeing the gun. He raised his eyebrows so you continued, “so you can finally make me come.”
“Good girl.” He smirked, grinding his palm harder against your clit, bringing you impossibly closer to the edge. He fired the gun and you froze, then let out a heavy breath.
“Can- can I come now please?” You all but sobbed in relief.
“Go ahead, princess. Keep humping my hand just like that… good girl. Grind on it, baby. Make yourself cum.” He set the gun on the bed then wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing on the sides hard enough to make you light headed. You gripped his bicep and squeezed your eyes shut. Finally the knot inside you snapped and your back arched as your head tilted back, pushing your throat into his hand. Your other hand reached up to grab the wrist of the hand on your neck. You didn’t try to pull him away, you just needed something to ground yourself.
As you came down from your orgasm, your body sagged into the bed. Your eyes were closed as you panted, trying to catch your breath. He pulled his fingers from you then took his ring and pinky fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean and groaning at the taste. He placed his pointer and middle fingers in your already open mouth and you moaned, leaning forward to take them deeper.
“Who do you work for?” He asked softly, removing his fingers and using his other hand to cup your cheek. The tenderness of his touch and his voice distracted you from the weight of the question.
“Piece of shit.” You mumbled sleepily, leaning into his hand. “Hate him.” You sighed and closed your eyes that were growing heavier the longer you tried to keep them open.
“Why does he want me dead?” He brushed his thumb against your cheek, his other hand moving some hair behind your ear.
“You’re being so sweet. Dunno why anyone would want that.” You pouted, opening your eyes to look at him. He gave you a soft smile, but his eyes showed his confusion. “I didn’t wanna kill you. Dunno why… just had a feeling I guess.” You returned his smile then closed your eyes again.
“I’m not done with you yet, princess. Don’t go falling asleep on me now.” He chuckled, his breath fanning against your lips. “Remember what I said? I’m fucking you whether you’re alive or not.”
“Alive doesn’t mean conscious.” You smiled mischievously, not opening your eyes.
“Alright then. If you don’t want to be conscious when I fuck your face and then your cunt, then by all means. Go ahead and sleep. Makes no difference to me.” You could practically hear his smirk, and yet… you still took the bait. You opened your eyes and glared at him.
“Fine. I guess I’ll be conscious.” You huffed dramatically, rolling your eyes. You did your best to suppress a giggle.
“I’m honored.” His faux seriousness is what made you break out into a fit of laughter. He didn’t really laugh with you, but he smiled so you counted that as a win.
“Alright get it over with.” You settled into your spot on the bed and opened your mouth with a glint in your eyes.
“You’re such a pillow princess.” He muttered, shaking his head with an amused smile.
“Hey! Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing. I’m proud to be a pillow princess.” You grinned and he just scoffed.
“Yeah, okay.” He laid down on the spot next to you, one hand resting on his stomach and the other behind his head. “Sorry, princess but you’re gonna have to do some of the work. I’ve been on top the whole time.”
“So what I’m hearing is… you want to bottom? I mean I’m down for that but I don’t think we have the right materials, unless you’re hiding a strap somewhere.” You smirked, sitting up.
“Cute. Remember what happened last time you didn’t watch your mouth?” You flushed at the memory.
“How are you gonna fuck my face if you gag me with my underwear again?”
“I’m really starting to reconsider accepting your decision to stay conscious.” You gaped at him.
“You wound me, Mitch.” You put a hand over your heart dramatically.
“I’m going to wound you if you don’t hurry up.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“You know, you telling me to hurry up makes me want to do the opposite.” You crossed your arms and he huffed.
“You’re a brat too. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Yeah actually. It usually goes hand in hand with the whole pillow princess thing.” You condescended him and he raised his eyebrows.
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes then looked up at you through his lashes. “Please suck my cock, baby. You wanna make me feel good right? Wanna prove that you really are a good girl? Cause I’m aching for you, princess. I know you can make me feel so fucking good.” He all but whined and you faltered. That was not what you were expecting at all. You figured you’d get another sarcastic reply, not- not that. You settled between his legs on your knees.
“I want to state for the record that I am doing this because I want to, not because you told me to.” You started unbuttoning his pants and you glanced up when he didn’t reply. He had a satisfied smirk on his stupid, pretty face. You just glared at him and kept working on taking his pants off. When you removed his black briefs you were mesmerized as his cock slapped against his stomach, big and red and did you mention he was big??
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“I would but you threw my phone somewhere so…” You reached out to touch him but he grabbed your wrist.
“Take them off all the way.” You huffed but did what he said then reached for him again, he didn’t stop you this time. It looked even bigger in your hand and you could see the vein on the bottom and the precum surfacing at the tip. You leaned down and licked the clear bead, moaning at the taste and then laying down on your stomach between his legs.
You looked up at him and god what a sight. The veins in his arm behind his head are bulging and you could see the veins in the hand resting on his stomach. His pupils were blown wide and he had a light blush on his face.
“C’mon, princess. We don’t have all night.” You ignored him and continued trailing your gaze over his body. You wanted to kiss all of the moles littering his face. Your hand reached up and you brushed your fingers down his happy trail until you reached the base of his cock. You grasped it and looked up at him before starting to move your hand.
His eyes fluttering was the only indication that he even felt anything, so you decided to do more. You put the tip in your mouth and lightly sucked and then swirled your tongue around it, your hand still pumping him. He muttered a ‘fuck’ and you wanted more.
You took him deeper into your mouth, until your lips met your hand, then went back up, still keeping your mouth on him. You looked up at him and when you met his eyes he groaned. He tangled a hand in your hair but didn’t push you yet.
“That’s it. Fuck- good girl. No hands, baby. Just your mouth.” You removed your hand and continued bobbing your head up and down his length. He started taking control, moving you further down each time. When you gagged and tried to pull back is when he lost all control.
His other hand joined your hair and he didn’t even move your head. He just held you still and bucked up into your mouth at a punishing pace. Each time he thrusted in, you were nearly all the way down, but not fully. His thrusting came to an abrupt stop when he buried his cock as far as your throat would allow.
“Fuck- Relax your throat, princess. C’mon, take me all the way in.” You did your best to relax and he pushed inside until you gagged around him and tried moving off him. His grip didn’t loosen and you clawed at his thighs, feeling your airways start to burn from lack of oxygen. When he finally let you pull back, you took a huge breath in and coughed. Mitch was stroking your hair and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes.
“Ready for more?” You glanced at his cock again and nodded, licking your lips. He eased your mouth back over him and started with slow thrusts. He moved your head up and down his length, the slow place allowing you to concentrate on breathing and not gagging.
“You’re just the perfect little fuck toy for my cock, aren’t you?” You moaned around him and he started to speed up. “Just a fleshlight for me to use however I want. Fuck- you were made for this.” He grunted. His hips started to meet your mouth every time he pushed you down.
“Fuck- take it, princess.” He groaned when you choked around him. He held you down until your lips were at the base of his cock, paying no mind to your struggling. Your hands gripped his thighs again, nails digging into the skin. Even though he was holding you flush against his hips, he was still thrusting into your mouth slightly.
Finally he released you, a trail of spit connecting your lips and his cock. One of his hands fell to his side, the other brushing the tears of your face.
“Come here.” He muttered, pulling your body up his. He kissed you slowly, nails dragging down your back, making you groan. He rolled both of you over until he was on top of you, never breaking the kiss.
“I’m gonna fuck you now.” He rasped. You nodded your head, eager for him to start. “Condom?” He took his cock in his hand, rubbing the tip against your opening and your clit.
“Don’t have one. I’m on the pill though.” You breathed, bucking your hips into him. He connected his lips to yours again, this time faster and more eager. He pressed the tip against your opening, pushing in the tiniest amount. When he finally breached your walls you gasped. Obviously you knew he was big… but it’s a whole other story when he’s actually inside you.
He slowly slid his length into you, your legs being pushed up to his hips the closer he got. When his hips were flush against yours, your chest started heaving as you tried to relax around him.
“Fuck,” You whimpered, grabbing his bicep in one hand and the sheets in the other, “oh my god. You’re so fucking big.” You gasped out. He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth in a silent moan. Mitch grabbed your thigh and pushed it up higher, the new angle making you whimper.
“Oh fuck- your little cunt is so tight around me.” He groaned, finally starting to pull back slowly. He dragged his length out of you until only the tip was inside, then snapped his hips forward quickly. The force pushed you up the bed slightly but he continued that rhythm.
“Fuck- please go faster.” You whined, dragging your nails down his back and making him groan. His thrusts sped up slightly, the sound of his hips hitting yours was resonating through the room, along with your moans. His mouth attached to your neck as he bit and sucked the skin everywhere he could reach. You put a hand in his hair and pulled on it hard. To retaliate, his hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides and making your head feel lighter.
Mitch kissed you again briefly, then pulled out. You whimpered at the empty feeling but he quickly grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. He pulled you onto your knees then pressed down on your upper back, making you arch even further. His cock entered you again and you let out a loud moan at the sudden thrust. His pace picked up quickly and you fisted the sheets near your head and squeezed your eyes shut. His hand left your back to grab your hips, using the leverage to thrust harder and faster.
He landed a sharp slap on your ass and you cried out from the sudden sting. He leaned over you and brushed the hair on your face behind your ear. His thrusts never ceased as his lips brushed your ear.
“You take my cock so fucking well, baby.” He said through a moan. Your breath hitched and you felt his words add to the growing warmth in your belly. “It’s like you were made for me. Made to be my little cock sleeve.” Mitch grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, making you gasp. His other hand wrapped around your throat, pushing your head back slightly. The harshness of his thrusts coupled with the sting on your scalp and the floaty feeling from his hand on your neck was driving you closer to the edge.
No matter how much you hated your boss or your job… you couldn’t help but feel glad that you didn’t quit yet. Because this was probably the best fuck of your life. Sure, most of the other men you’ve been with couldn’t please a woman to save their life- literally and metaphorically- but there’s just something different about him. About the way that he’s rough and soft at the same time. Not just in his actions but in his words too. It’s almost like he had a fucking manual for all of your kinks and turn ons.
“Where do you want me to come?” He whispered, lips grazing your ear. And fuck- you clenched around him, making him moan lowly.
“Inside.” You whispered breathily. His grip on your neck tightened and he cursed under his breath.
“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” He put all his weight on the arm holding your throat, then released your hair and moved his hand down to start rubbing your clit.
“Please.” You whined, clenching down on him again.
“Such a fucking slut- wanting a stranger to come inside you.” You whimpered at that because… even though it doesn’t feel like it, he still is a stranger. “What if I knock you up, huh? I guess it won’t matter either way since, like I said, you’re not leaving here alive.” His thrusts got harder and faster and he was panting next to your head.
“Please, I-“ You cut off with a choked sob, getting closer to your release with every thrust. “I wanna live. Wanna be your cock sleeve.” Despite you being 90% sure this was all roleplay, there was still some truth to your words.
“Begging for your life and all you have to offer are your holes?” Your breath hitched and his words just added to the growing knot in your stomach. “I might consider that. But it depends… are you offering all your holes?”
“Yes!” You said through a moan. “Yes- all of them.” He chuckled darkly. “Please, I- I need to come.” You cried, feeling yourself nearing the edge.
“Go ahead, baby. Come and I’ll fill you up, okay?” He rasped, his hand rubbing your clit faster. Your body obeyed his command and you cried out when your orgasm hit. You heard him curse under his breath and felt as he fucked into you faster. You buried your face in the bed, muffling your loud moans. His hips stilled and you felt hot come paint your walls. You let out a loud whine as his hips just barely bucked against you, trying to bury himself deeper.
After both of you stilling and just panting for a few seconds, you lifted your face from the bed so you could breathe better and he moved off of you so he was kneeling. Mitch slowly dragged his cock out and you clenched at the emptiness. You felt his come drip out of you, down your clit, and he groaned loudly. He rubbed the head of his cock on you, spreading his come around, and you hissed at how sensitive you were. He moved to lay beside you and you dropped down from your knees on your stomach.
“You don’t seem like the type to cuddle after sex.” You chuckled and the corners of his lips turned up.
“You’d be surprised. But we aren’t exactly cuddling right now.”
“Well what’s stopping you?” You smirked and he rolled his eyes before pulling you to lay partially on top of him.
“Better?” He raised his brows and you laughed quietly.
“Much.” You said, laying your head on his chest. His fingertips lightly dragged up and down your arm and you traced the moles and freckles on his chest. What now? You thought. He’s not actually going to kill you… is he? “Are you actually gonna kill me?” You mumbled against his chest.
“I don’t know…” He sighed. “No. But I can’t just let you go.” He was silent for a moment before continuing. “I think I should bring you to my superiors and let them decide what to do with you.”
“Your superiors? That doesn’t sound ominous at all.” You laughed, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckled quietly. “What are they like mob bosses or something?” You said teasingly.
“More like a former navy seal and director of the CIA.”
“The C-“ You lifted yourself off his chest to look at him. “CIA? You work for the CIA??” Your voice rose in shock and he raised his brows, amused by your reaction.
“Oh my god- I almost killed someone from the CIA. That would’ve been so bad.” You put a hand over your mouth and stared at him with wide eyes. “You didn’t even get close to killing me.” He chuckled.
“Only because I didn’t want to. I totally could’ve killed you.” He just smirked at you but you were too hung up on the fact that your boss basically sent you on a suicide mission. If not suicide, then life in jail.
“That bastard! He sent me to kill an agent of the US government and didn’t even fucking tell me.” You seethed before calmly stating, “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Don’t kill him.” He chuckled. “Actually it depends. Who is he?” You told him the name and his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.
“What?” You asked, confused.
“That’s the guy we’ve been after right now. We’re actually really close too.”
“Oh... What’d he do?” You asked.
“He’s a terrorist.” He deadpanned and your whole expression dropped.
“Oh shit.” You breathed. “Okay well now I definitely want to kill him.” You shrugged. “After I get paid though.”
“But you didn’t kill me.”
“That’s what’s funny about it though. It’d be even more ironic if you were the one to kill him.” Suddenly, you realized that you, an assassin, are talking to an agent of the US government about killing someone. “Are you gonna arrest me?” You asked nervously and he let out a small chuckle.
“I don’t think I can even do that… but no.” You sighed in relief. “Plus, what good is a fuck toy if it’s in jail?” He smirked and you felt your cheeks heat up.
I’M SORRY IDK HOW TO END THIS 😭💀
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braxlrose · 1 year ago
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silly and weird tom hcs
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a/n: the last ones got deleted for some reason so I'm making a new one!
• this mf steals your food all the time. hes always munchin on something so if you have something that looks good, he's taking it. especially if it's watermelon. he loves watermelon 🍉
• he doesn't tell anybody, but he gets his nails done. he gets pedicures and manicures and loves it so much. you found out one day when he kept going off and not telling anybody where he was going. so you followed him and saw his finger and feet soaking in water 💀
• when you walked in you were trying so hard to hold in a laugh and he was so fucking embarrassed when he saw you. you thought it was extremely ironic because he always called mani-pedis "girly"
• now you two go all the time, and you're way better at making excuses than he was.
• he got high on edibles and thought his feet weren't attached to his body anymore so he started screaming 💀
• over indulges on gushers when he's high
• you guys know those Chinese finger traps? Idk if that's what they're called but you put two fingers in them and they're like really hard to get out of. he LOVES them for some reason, he thinks they're so much fun
• he loves the snow so much, and especially loves snowball fights. it's so much fun, and he also gets to wear extra layers of clothing because of the cold
• during the winter, he gets a bunch of different kinds of hot chocolates and when anybody asks what he's drinking he swears by it that it's black coffee 💀
• he loves watching futurama and says that he strives to be bender 💀 (have yall seen the new episode? I actually really liked it, ik a lot of people said they didn't but I did.)
• gets on his knees while begging (not sexually 🤨) and will even fake cry. he's a master manipulator 💀
• when you guys go to the beach he's always asking you to come play in the water with him
• for any reason if you guys happen to be at a hospital, he goes and looks at all the little newborn babies. they're so cute and he gets all smiley just looking at them.
• he loves romance movies. mf will deny it till the day he dies when anybody asks but you've seen his collection of vhs tapes and dvds. plus bill even admitted tom cried during The Notebook.
• he tries to balance random objects on his head while walking to see it he can do it. he'll add on a object every time he does it.
• he's weirdly amazing at solving Rubix cubes?
• he loves making balloons animals and he always makes the sword ones. he will literallt sword fight with anybody.
• he eats bowls and bowls of cereal so he can get to the prize at the bottom of the box. (I full-heartedly believe he's a little kid at heart)
• he tries to make home-made pizza but ends up burning it 90% of the time.
• he's extremely ticklish on his armpits, stomach and feet and will literally die laughing if you tickle him
• he also loves kids cartoon movies like fox and the hound, Anastasia, Mulan, James and the Giant Peach, etc.
• he loves slap bracelets and has an entire collection of them.
• it wouldn't be the first time you've caught him dancing and singing to Britney spears.
• tom loves everything bathes. on camera he says he prefers showers but in reality he likes bathes better. With candles, dimmed lights, bath salts, face masks, etc.
• do you guys know that episode of Friends where Monica convinces Chandler to take a bath and he ends up loving it and shit? he's just like that. if you don't know what I'm talking about here's some clips.
clip 1
clip 2
• he tried on one of your thongs one time because you dared him to wear it the whole day.
• you also dared him to get his legs waxed and he ended up doing it and he was crying the whole time
• he loves those little stories where you add in words to them. I can't remember what they're called but it asked you for like an adjective, plural noun, verb ending in ing, etc. etc. (I hope yall know what I'm talking about, I think it starts like a m or something someone tell me please 😭)
taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey
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lilypadding · 10 months ago
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👒 maraudersdenier Follow
sometimes to feel alive I rewatch danganronpa season 1 and 2
#idk it was peak series to me #they had the hope's peak arc going #season 3 was completely different
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🪴 soniasansflowers Follow
I can't believe the surviving casts of DR are just walking around now??? you survived a genuine killing game and now you're just waking up on tuesday and driving to starbucks to get a drink????? what???????? 
#danganronpa #scribby.txt
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🧚‍♀️ loserrrville Follow
sorry but I still think it's funny that dr2 was the only season where they revived the cast 💀
#and the only cast that deserved it was s15 but you guys aren't ready for that convo #sdr2 #dr15
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🧸 danganwrongpers Following
🎮 monokumasmilk Following
Do you guys ever think about how everyone in Danganronpa isn't even real...? We'll never know their actual backstory, especially not from their perspective. Their memories are always wiped and replaced with hijinks fabrications. And we've already talked about how everything is real to them because it's in their head, but it's not. Their memories are built on lies. nobody in this show is real. 
🧨 fdr38frontlines Follow
average danganronpa fan discovers acting
#the reblog is funny and everything but op is onto something #I've gotten so uncomfortable whenever I think about it for too long #yeah they're all consenting adults #and they signed up for it knowing what would happen #but...
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☁️ komaedasoup Following
remember when people got so weird about nagito and hajime hanging out (and being actual friends in interviews) that they stopped talking to each other just to avoid you freaks shipping them 😭
👤 despairinglyhopeful-deactivated
they probably stopped talking publicly not privately 👀
☁️ komaedasoup Following
THIS 💥 POST 💥 IS 💥 ABOUT💥 YOU 💥
#be NORMAL??!?!
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🍇 junkorenoshimer Follow
everyone's suddenly so obsessed with danganronpa not being "ethical" but how did you guys not realize this show is kinda fucked when that one interview with makoto came out and he literally says he got nightmares of the game and intense survivor's guilt. like the signs have always been there
🎮 monokumasmilk Following
Yet you never made a post about it until now did you?
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🔑 wannabekirigiri Following
KYOKO'S RED CARPET LOOK??!?!?! 😍😍😍😍😍 SOBBING AND CRYING ADN SKINNING MYSELF RUGHT NOW
#i am normal so normal so
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🎀 sdr2-supremacy Following
the things I would let hajime hinata do to me
🍡 hinatahajimeofficial Following
Okay let me run you over
🎀 sdr2-supremacy Following
HAJIME??????
#help I forgot he was real #DOES HE SCROLL THROUGH HIS OWN TAG??? 
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🔑 wannabekirigiri Following
all my mutuals will be very happy to know I GOT CAST FOR SEASON 53!!!!
#for legal reasons this is a joke haha 
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based entirely on @okthatsgreat 's original post
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anzulvr · 1 year ago
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Hiii! Could i please request a karma x reader where reader is a crybaby and really sensitive but also super sweet to everybody no matter how mean they are?
Karma x sensitive reader // <3 // fluff, hcs.
In which Karma catches feelings for a crybaby.
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— ୨୧ first meeting.
Karma and you get along well from the start, unlike most people in the main campus you don’t talk badly about E-class and you don’t make any judgements towards people without getting to know them- that’s especially important to note because Karmas never had the best reputation. Even so, you didn’t judge him based off rumors and comments made about him behind his back, earning you his respect!
— catching feelings.
Karma is the last person to be interested in dating, so whenever he starts getting all nervous and flustered around you he thinks he’s nauseous. He only realizes hes into you when he sees he’s sort of defensive over you, definitely brought to his attention by Rio(meddler) or Nagisa (He just wants to help).
✦ any time you’re upset he’s the first to ask who did something, super ready to fight anyone.
✦ He realizes he’s never wanted anyone to stick around as much as you.
—ʚ[End Class]ɞ
(If you were to drop to end class for whatever reason)
// first time meeting Korosensei you’re a sobbing mess.
Even then you’re trying to be nice telling him he’s not that scary (in reality you’re terrified because why is he like 10 feet tall..)
Korosensei frantically tries to get you to stop crying. “I promise I would never lay my tentacles on a student- I wouldn’t hurt you!! You can ask anyone in here I-”
Karma is laughing his ass off to the point he’s gripping his sides cause they hurt.
You get to sit next to him. Lucky (???) you.
The rest of the class is quick to warm up to you, if you’re not already friends that is.
— When you’re officially together.
Hes the biggest tease in existence, he can’t go 20 minutes without poking fun at you.
Has so many pictures and videos of you happy crying. (He will not let you live down.)
Also has a folder of pictures you send him whenever you’re crying over small / dumb things you find funny when you realize what you’re crying over.
(cause literally me too?? I’ll cry and laugh mid way when I realize how stupid it is 😭)
[Name]: we’re out of cookies.
[Attached image of you crying]
lmfao I’ll buy you some calm down💀 :[Karma]
[Name]: NVMM.. false alarm we have another box 😆!!
don’t care I’m at your doorstep with 5 boxes open up :[Karma]
[Name]: Wow you’re fast it’s only been like 3 minutes..
— <3 —
He brings up moments like that anytime he has the chance to embarrass you.
“Remember the time you cried cause you found out chickens live only like seven years.”
“Shut up it was really sad.”
“[Name] we had fried chicken like 20 minutes later and you devoured that shit.”
“That was so good, we should go again.”
ON ANOTHER NOTE.
No one is allowed to make you feel bad though, Terasaka is extra careful not to say anything to make you cry on days where he doesn’t want to end up on the ground.
You’re his go-to for advice. Especially if he’s ever arguing with anyone like his parents or his friends because you know more about emotions than he does.
Cannot handle seeing you upset because of something he does, the second your eyes even get the littlest misty he’s apologizing with food and flowers.
You hold a special place in his heart because often times you’re the only person he’s comfortable opening up to.
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A/N: im behind on like 30 requests IM SORRY 😪😪😪
Also I didn’t really check for spelling errors for this one so tell me if you catch any pls!!!
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