#so the least you can do is prove that your thankful for them and show you care by tipping them

[kittenscookie]

[PJO x Epic AU] Since most of the godly parents are at least half-decent, I'm curious.

Who are the crappy godly parents? (Zeus, obvi)

Out of thirteen major cabins, 4 (Ares, Athena, Aphrodite, and Hermes) are active and good parents. M.E Hephaestus would like to join that group but if Zeus finds out one more god is breaking his law kids will die and he knows better than to push it. So he's a very reluctantly absent father, he'll probably slide Percy some twin daggers as thanks for making it so he can see his children. M.E Hephaestus also showed up the day visitation rights were established—hat in hand, apologizing for being inactive and asking if his kids would be willing to begin building a relationship.

Everyone beside those five (and Poseidon he's cool) are pretty shit parents, so like half the gods at the round table and half the minor gods as well. And there is tension between those 4 active cabins and the rest of the camp.

The Trials of Apollo is interesting because none of his kids would even pretend to fuck with him. Because to them (the children of inactive gods in general) M.E Athena, Aphrodite, Ares, and Hermes prove that the bare minimum could have at least been attempted—you just didn't care enough to try. Lester ain't getting the pleasure of a bed—he's sleeping on the damn floor.

Will: That's the bunk we put our bags on.

Apollester: You have three bunks specifically for bags!?

Austin: That we do.

Gracie: It's the floor or the woods, take your pick sperm donor.

[unstableanginapectoris]

>For example, you say that they are bad and mean, but then you say that the survivors are lying. So what is it? What makes them mean and mean if every accusation is obviously false?

What makes you think that all the accusations are obviously false and beyond credibility? Not all of them, but some of them. Some are not false. At least it's strange that most of them are simply deleted after some time. This suggests doubts about everything that is happening. Who needs to delete something that could go against the accused?

>You have no right to anything. You should not be given any additional details. This is not a late-night TV show that you watch for entertainment. These are real people who have been harmed, and you are hurting them even more.

Oh, isn't it? You're right. We are nobody, and no one is responsible to us. Just like you are not responsible to those who disagree with what is happening. This is a valid position. But doesn't it look like this is a simple throw in the face of the fans as a consequence of the fact of spitting in the face of their fans? We'll report a problem person, but we won't show anything because we don't have to, and fuck you, you know. Ambiguous words with a bad context.

>Do you keep saying that the creators have been treated abominably by fans over the years?

Isn't that right? Haven't fans literally ruined and ruined the lives of many of your close friends, the creators of the series, with false accusations and incitement, stalking, etc.? It's been advertised more than once, and you know perfectly well who you're talking about, but I don't want to point fingers.

>So here's an important tip to take home with you: neither Jeff nor Adam gives a damn about you.

God, fuck, and thank they don't care. No one would not like to enter into discussions with those who have ignited the fire of everything that is happening in the fandom.

>How dare you fucking say that heather's situation is questionable. How the fuck dare you.

Because not every opinion should be censured by you? Because her story, which is already several years old, but it was advertised not as long ago as it could have been, which would have led to many times fewer victims of Adam, which are available? I don't think Heather was the last last link. And you're ready for this conversation.

>This whole popular article just calls everyone a liar. You have mountains of evidence, and you're still sitting here picking at things that contradict your own opinion.

You have a lot of evidence, and it's your right not to share it with your fans in order to avoid problems. That's right. But the question is: why didn't you go above your own head and neglect the idea of isolating Adam not only from the fandom and the Internet, but also from society as a whole? He's a maniac. Criminal. A terrible man, according to you. People like Adam should be criminally punished and held accountable before the law. Why is he still at large with a lot of evidence? Maybe it's just... not enough? And maybe we really don't know what we really need to know?

>Prove that she knows Adam,” and then literally flip in the next paragraph to devalue another survivor because “photos can't be considered proof of a sexual relationship.” It wasn't about sexual relations, but that Heather was intimately acquainted with Adam. Two selfies – anyone can have at that time, will this be the reason to accuse my friend of rape? I don't think that will be enough. But this is a more sensitive issue, not for public discussion.

It wasn't about sexual relations, but that Heather was intimately acquainted with Adam. Two selfies – anyone can have at that time, will this be the reason to accuse my friend of rape? I don't think that will be enough. But this is a more sensitive issue, not for public discussion.

>There was abuse. It's simplified to “Well, what was she wearing?” which is literally just victim blaming rhetoric that shifts the blame onto the victim.

To turn the whole post inside out and present a desire to find out what the fuck is going on – that's a solid appeal. That's not the fucking order of things. Yes, these are even fucking different situations, exaggerated from extreme to extreme.

Without proof, you can accuse any person of all the offenses that he has never committed in his life. If a person had really been abused, if there was any indirect evidence of his wrongdoing, then proceedings would have begun and he would have been punished. If at least the young fans who were sexually abused by Adam can't do anything about it, where are their guardians? Why didn't they take care of their children's safety, letting everything take its course after so much time? If there really was evidence of sexual abuse, he would not have worked at the clinic, since when applying for a job they have to check all the people they hire. They make requests for medical examinations every year and also carry out other checks.

Naturally, without proof, this is just a pure lie, since in words you can accuse a person of anything, including what he did not do. You can say anything, but until there is no statement to the police, evidence, investigation or verification, this cannot be considered an objective accusation. And besides, if you were afraid of retribution from Adam or Jeff, it would be much more logical to go to the police with the existing punishments than to write about it on the Internet.

I do not exclude the fact that Adam Rosner's parents (according to Heather) they may be rich people, but why didn't any of the victims even try to go with the same zeal to the bitter end in order to truly punish Adam? Even if Adam's parents could pay to get him off, he doesn't have endless money, and if there are so many victims, then their collective cooperation with going to the police would give results. Yes, money will not pay off the whole world. It would have been much safer, because in that case Jeff and Adam would have been subject to certain restrictions, even if not criminal liability. As long as you protect your victims with support, no matter what, they will ALWAYS be in danger as long as these two assholes are free. You canceled them in the fandom, but reality did not touch them, judging by the fact that Jeff participated in one of the interviews, and Adam simply renounced the Internet, continuing his medical activities, and possibly "breeding" more victims that you may not even know about, because he is already on another border. the reality. So why do your actions seem to be ineffective? Why are potential criminals still at large, and all the evidence that you hold is still with you? So you condemn their actions, and are you prepared for the fact that there may be many more victims? If attempts to contact the authorities were ignored, isn't that a reason to inform and ask people for help to support you and spread all the evidence so that people can be heard on the current basis? If this is true, then it turns out that one is an abuser and a manipulator, the other is a pedophile and a rapist, but at the same time, for the sake of the safety of other potential victims, you do not do anything, you do not want to show evidence so that no one else has doubts. Isn't that inhumane? If all the accusations are true, then you are. as a victim who wants to protect and protect others, on the contrary, you will do everything to ensure that this person is seriously punished, and not a simple cancellation on the Internet. And yes, before you say it, I have the right to say it, because I'm not on anyone's side. Neither on the side of the victims, nor on the side of these moral freaks who simply ran away from responsibility. Because canceling on the internet and the fandom IS THE LEAST you can reward a potentially terrible person with. Yes, according to you, we don't have the right to do that, but before posting a statement on the Internet, I think we need to be prepared for the fact that someone may disagree with this. And not because of the fact of sick fanaticism, no. And because of the fact that it's like throwing dust in the eyes, and if it really wasn't our damn business, this discussion simply wouldn't have taken place.

I want to make an appeal to the entire Slenderverse fandom. The fandom is sick and you are ready for this conversation. The fandom is sick not only because of the actors, but also because of the fans. Important note: I do NOT condone any violent actions on anyone's part, I just want to know the TRUTH and do not support either the madness of the fans or the inadequacy on the part of some actors. Also in this post, I will cover not only the situations with the actors of EMH and the Marble Hornets, but also the specific situations with Jeff Koval and Adam Rosner. We all remember how Brian was sexualized and threatened, how Tim was bullied, and how Evan was harassed and threatened. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, because in fact, many actors have been subjected to varying degrees of disgusting treatment from fans. Threats against the actors, death wishes not only for the actors, but also for their loved ones, insane harassment. And even if the fan frenzy has subsided at the moment, it's still there.

If we talk about the actors themselves, then when it comes to Jeff Koval, one logical question arises in my head: "why did they hush up what happened?"Jeff was an abuser and a manipulator and, of course, he is a vile person. The way Jeff treated his girlfriend and Evan is truly disgusting. And indeed, it seems to me very hypocritical and twofold how Adam was canceled, but Jeff was considered "not the same thing," and here's why: I conducted my own little investigation into Adam's situation and also looked at all the evidence here and I haven't found any convincing evidence that that he's a rapist, even though he's a really NASTY person. And before you start writing about how I justify him, let me explain my position: for me, Adam Rosner is an unpleasant, vile person with whom I would never want to have any personal contact, he certainly did and said a lot of disgusting things, but there is no evidence specifically that he's a rapist, and I'll explain why.

Now let's talk about my own little investigation into all the accusations that have been leveled against Adam Rosner. Personally, I consider him to be a vile person, but my goal is to find out the truth, not pin all mortal sins on him. So, let's see what I found out.:

Let's start with zoophilia. From what I saw, the "screenshots" come from only one person, there is no one else who could confirm them and say: "Yes, it really happened, I saw these messages from Adam not in screenshots.", or: "Yes, Adam personally told me about it." (with the real evidence base behind these statements). Usually, in such shocking situations, screenshots are taken not by one person, but by several. Also, the "screenshots" themselves don't look reliable, they look very strange. Regarding this, I share the same opinion as Ford Muybridge. If there is a real evidence base behind these screenshots and Adam Rosner mentioned somewhere else about his predilections for animals, then notify me about it, I will study the information and if it is reliable, I will edit and include it in the post.

The situation with Heather also looks extremely dubious. At least because based on how specifically the situations are described, the identity of this person will be quite understandable to those present at that party, as well as to Adam himself. And considering that literally the entire Internet is now on the side of Adam's victims, if this girl were a real victim, she would have no reason to maintain her own anonymity in wider circles either. There's nothing to be afraid of when you have so many people behind you, when you WILL DEFINITELY be supported, considering that other actors have turned their backs on Adam. I don't want to say that I don't believe the victims, I want to say that I consider it unwise to accuse without presenting evidence, at least because anyone who has at least some material or psychological benefit from this can say: "This man abused me." Please, kindly, if you are accusing someone of something, then show proof. Heather didn't attach anything to the post, even something trivial that would make it clear that she really knew Adam. And it's not necessary to reveal your identity to the readers of this post, it would be enough just to show some photos with Adam that are not publicly available. I can't believe that over the years of friendship, there can't be some personal photos or at least something that could confirm her personal acquaintance with Rosner. According to one of the commentators, under the full list of charges the actors from EMH have officially refuted Heather's words, but I personally have not yet verified this information and cannot say that this is true, however, I felt it necessary to indicate this here, as the commentators, who will also be like me, are not lazy to understand this, they may try to find more accurate information on this subject, and I will include it in the post if it is reliable.

About the situation with some screenshots and Adam's statements. His vile fetish for "little sisters" turned out to be really true, he confirmed this in his apology post, posted either in 2016 or in 2017 (I saw both dates and I do not know which one is correct). As well as some disgusting statements about some people. Well, to add to that, what's disgusting is disgusting, and I won't deny it. The only thing I would like to point out is that his apologies really look vague, without any evidence or specifics.

Regarding the situation with Ress. A shared selfie cannot be considered proof of a sexual relationship. But as for the screenshots, there are really big questions for Adam, however, there is still no direct mention of sexual contact, so I would like to see and know more, it's hard for me to draw unambiguous conclusions from hints and fragments, but I do not deny the possibility that Ress may be telling the truth, her words still sound more believable than Heather's words.

About Eve. Her story is more believable than other stories, given that the number of screenshots and photos is much greater than other people's. If the screenshots are not fake, then it turns out that Rosner was really in love with an underage teenager as an adult, which is certainly disgusting. But one thing is bothering me - why was Eva unhappy about being ignored with Adam Rosner's disregard? After all, if you think about it that way, then realizing his feelings, he tried to distance himself from her quite reasonably.

The situation regarding his phone call is ambiguous. In my opinion, two people are responsible for sexual intercourse. If a girl took birth control pills and knew exactly when to take them, as well as how much they work, then I have questions for her, because the pills she takes are her area of responsibility. Adam's area of responsibility is to inquire about the duration of the pills and read the instructions for them. In my opinion, they both behaved irresponsibly. In addition, she claimed that everything was fine when he was interested in both her condition and her financial situation (the situation in which she gave him the money). Agree, when a person constantly assures that everything is fine, but in fact it is not, then this is already his area of responsibility, since people around him cannot read minds. I am shocked that I have to explain such elementary things, given that the girl, as I understood from the phone call, had also inadvertently become pregnant before (starting at 08:20 in the recording of the phone call, the girl says that she had already become pregnant unplanned before not from Adam, correct me, if I was mistaken, English is not my native language). Given her previous unplanned pregnancy, wasn't it her area of responsibility not to have sex, realizing that her morning pill wasn't effective for the entire day? As for Adam's excuses, I don't like the way he tries to shift his part of the responsibility to the fact that he was young, as well as his phrase that he always regrets being in debt more than anything else in life, is really strange. My opinion is that they both behave like irresponsible and very impulsive people. I don't like Adam himself or the girl. My personal conclusion about the situation with Adam Rosner in general: of course, he is a disgusting and vile person and there is a high probability that he could REALLY be in love with an underage teenager, as well as have consensual sexual contact with a minor. However, it is just as likely that he is NOT a rapist or a zoophile. I think it is extremely wrong to pin all the sins of humanity on a person, let him be responsible for what he really did. And yes, this does NOT negate the fact that I find it disgusting that he fell in love with an underage girl, being an adult, it makes me sick, BUT he is not a monster, not a rapist, not a murderer.

Returning to Jeff Koval, I want to talk about the fact that the main claim against his manipulativeness and abuse is very similar to the claim against Adam, given that there is no real evidence that Adam Rosner committed violence (which does not negate his other vile actions, but we are now talking specifically about violence). And Jeff didn't do any better than Adam, not at all.

I am not calling for any cancellation or harassment of any of the actors or fans. I consider the "cancellation culture" to be a very ambiguous and in many ways destructive phenomenon, it's like how people stone a person, making him a scapegoat. The "cancellation culture" is disastrous due to the fact that it is lynching, and lynching is not always correct, it can spread a lot of false information. I don't want to say that the victims are "guilty" of anything, but seriously, do I have to explain why lynching is a bad thing? If we talk about people who turn out to be victims, then proving your words is important. Of course, one should not immediately blame someone who claims to be a victim, but I believe that the presumption of innocence SHOULD also be taken into account. Without proof, the world just turns into chaos. Indirect evidence may also not always be something that would really prove a person's guilt. The world is not black and white, please do not forget this and check the information PERSONALLY, use your critical thinking.

I would also like to discuss separately the topic of T12 cancellation in general. It seems very unwise to deny the importance of this project to the entire Slenderverse fandom. Of the main complaints about the plot from people who devalue T12's contribution to the fandom, only a couple of complaints turned out to be significant. Most people talk about things that are described and explained in Milo's journal. Correct me in the comments if this is not the case, but Milo's journal was written personally by Adam Rosner, therefore, this is canonical information. And I'm pretty sure that if this whole situation with Adam hadn't happened, the information from Milo's journal would have been included directly in the videos themselves. Read the journal and you will find that many plot holes are closed just by describing the events from there. Adam Rosner is a good screenwriter and creator, but a bad person. I also don't want to devalue his contribution to the Slenderverse fandom, although as a person and person he disgusts me.

I think I'll draw a general conclusion from all this and summarize it. I think that people in the Slenderverse fandom should reconsider their attitude to everything that is happening. Many actors no longer want to have anything to do with Slenderverse and Creepypasta, because fans have an extremely inappropriate tendency to treat actors as radically as possible, and there is definitely a problem with sexualization, bullying from series in the fandom, etc. It is inappropriate to wish someone dead, to find out where a stranger lives and threaten him. And yes, understand that lynching is not a good thing, and I'm surprised that I need to explain exactly why this is a bad thing. Check the information, ask for evidence, and stop trying to find scapegoats. Adam Rosner and Jeff Koval are really nasty and unpleasant personalities, but before accusing someone of all mortal sins, it's worth figuring out what's true and what's not. I would like the Slenderverse fandom to become better and less radical, as well as for people to engage in critical thinking before throwing serious accusations at anyone.

[barista-blues]

You should absolutely be tipping on holidays.

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 3 | part 4 is up! scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[kithtaehyung]

minted: three (explicit) | myg

title: minted: part three (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: masterlist | one | two rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: at this point, you would do anything to forget. including the unthinkable with a gangster. note: sooo this series basically saved my writing slump haha. i am still having the time of my life and i’m so excited to show y’all more of this minted universe. and to also show you just how spicy things can get❤️‍🔥 note 2: this is ofc a present for hali @sailoryooons that spiraled into a whole universe. still always gonna thank nary @joonary for letting me use the vendor reader idea, as well! also happy birthday to @remmykinsff @awbells @keylime4eva @aaclariww and @noshit-cantfindagoodone!! to everyone else having a bday around this time, this is my gift to you hehehe. warnings: language, drugs, alcohol, slow burn, murder mentions, gang activity, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, chains bc of course :)), world-building, reader is still sassy, yoongi is still infuriating, tension explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: december 9th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 12.3k 😀👍

explicit warnings: i know it’s a slow burn but there’s definitely smut lol, choking, head/hair tugging, penetration, oral (f rec), backshotssss, marking bye, rough sex, ass play, breast play, his hands are a nice necklace😀, taunting cus reader’s an icon, thighs, breath play, spanking, hand job, protected sex, multiple orgasms, restraints (his hands, robe tie), brat!reader but who is honestly shocked🙂‍↔️, brat tamer!yoongi lmao, yoongi is a menace i’m sorryyyy, but reader is…?????, need them both™, teasing, rawdogging HELLO?? (pls wrap it up fr!), commanding yoongi a ha ha, pain kink, cowgirl🙂‍↕️, this is just the calm before a whole damn storm

—

—

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

Did you go too far? 

Is there a limit to his accommodation? Did you actually think this was gonna be easy? 

When silence swirls between your robes, you start to second guess your demand. 

But Yoongi simply stares before stepping aside, allowing you to enter his room with jellied legs. 

This is madness, but you’re gonna go through with it. Whatever the hell this will be. Because you may not know much, but you figure all men sit up the same when sex is on the table. 

This man, though... 

Quite frankly, you aren’t sure about anything when it comes to him. Unless it’s about him doing something questionable. Then there’s no question about it.

The enigma himself makes no conversation as you step inside, even as your eyes roam around a cleaner, more put-together room than when you left the first time. Did Yoongi clean this much while you made a mess of your dreams? 

The only answer you get is a door shutting, followed by a massive presence at your back. Before you can so much as turn around, the first words on your shoulders burn like embers,

“Was he your first.” 

Fuck. 

This isn’t what you approached him for. He’s supposed to make you forget, not remember. Remember?

You don’t turn around; you don’t respond right away. Instead, you swallow before focusing very hard on the fact that Yoongi sleeps on the bedside nearest the window. At least, judging by the way the covers are flipped. You happen to prefer the side opposite.

The heat from his body proves soft but intense, and you can’t help but close your eyes when you finally answer with a question, 

“Do you remember yours?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you ever regret it?” 

“No.”

Your vision lowers to the rug lying still under the bed. A splash of light grey amongst a darkened, moonlit sea. 

No matter how quick Yoongi answers. No matter how even his tone. 

He still remembers it, too. 

But this isn’t what you expected when you walked in here. You assumed this man was going to get right to it, save no room for you to second guess yourself. Clearly he gave zero shits about kissing you in that taxi, and he damn near undressed you in the living room. 

So what’s the holdup here? Does he want this for real? Or not? 

Head at a slight angle, you admit with a hint of finality, “I don’t wanna talk about that.” 

“Mm.” A warm, rough hand subtly tugs at your belt, and prominent knuckles nudge through the smooth material of your robe. “So what are you really here for.” 

Your eyes blink thrice. 

Yoongi cannot be serious. Does he really not know? 

No. He knows. With a shift of your jaw, you realize he’s just fucking with you, purposefully not in the way you want. “You’re being difficult.” 

“You woke me up.”

Ah. That’s fair. 

“So tell me.” 

Well. If you’re gonna have to spell things out for him, he’s gonna be waiting for awhile. Because the more you stand here not doing anything, the harder it is to gather a little thing called courage. Courage to meet the beast in his den, and madness to let him devour you whole. Now you have neither. Neither, neither, neither.

Awkwardness sticks to your throat until it’s jammed, and you can barely mush your lips together to form sounds. The courage you speak of flees before you can wrangle it, and what’s left of your answer tumbles out like boulders, “This is.. I don’t.. I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

“It’s,” you huff, noting that you don’t like this horrible mix of hesitation and anger, “It’s… I’m—” 

Your vision jolts as you feel a quick tug shit you’re spinning fuck your back just hit a wall—

“Of all things today,” Yoongi murmurs with slits for eyes, “This is what gets you to shut up?” 

Damn it. 

You don’t even have a rebuttal. Because he’s right. Yoongi’s sharp discernment is millimeters from your face and you have no intention to move nor speak. Only quick breaths. Only shaky exhales. 

But you do swallow.

Which brings out a sound you will never admit you like: a breathy, condescending laugh, as coarse and as soft as his touch. 

“You mean to tell me,” he observes, tilting your chin while his irises blaze dark, “You came all the way in here for nothing?”

“No, I—”

“All that talk, and for what.” 

Defend yourself. Say something. Say just one word two words any words—

Did Yoongi just pat your cheek? ..Twice? 

Why did you kinda like that—

“Makes no sense,” he ponders aloud, lolling his head and staring down your crumpled lips. “Who even are you..” 

Now that's an easy one. You always have the answer to that question. 

“No one,” you whisper. “Sorry to disappoint you.” 

Seems like the people back home aren’t the only ones you’ll let down. If Yoongi keeps that question loaded in the chamber, he’s gonna keep shooting the same target. Over, and over, and over. 

But you don’t have to worry. Because he drops it, caging you in with a hand near your stiff, risen shoulder, “So what are you here for.” 

This is a mistake. Either Yoongi doesn’t want this, or he’s being frustrating on purpose and your fire is both stoked and quelled. “Now I don’t know for sure.” 

“The more you stall the harder it gets,” he goads with a lick of teasing. And for a split, minuscule second, you wonder if that meant more than one thing.

Goddamn, he’s annoying. He’s outright savoring this. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. You woke him up for god’s sake. If someone did this same thing to you after the day you’ve had, you wouldn’t have even let them in. 

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi’s version of dealing with a midnight inconvenience is whittling them down until they leave— 

“So you can tell my bellhop off but I get nothing, huh.” 

Oh, shit. 

Oh, shit. 

You’re so taken aback that you can only ask, “What?” 

Mercifully, the dragon gives you air, straightening before leaving your personal space. 

Your focus should be on his words. You know this. But he uses this moment to rake his hair, and words are no match for the sleeve cascading down his inked forearm. 

Even as his hair flows in waves, you still cling to his tattoos as he looks downward in thought. “You think I wouldn’t check who the fuck was coming up here?” 

It takes you a second to process. 

But you realize what this means and you fall silent again.

Yoongi saw that? All of that? You acted without much thought, and if he really did see and hear everything that went down, there’s a chance he thinks a lot differently about you now. No wonder he’s so thrown by this switch in behavior. 

But on the other hand.. The way he touched you in the living room. Was all that because of what he saw? Is that side of you the one that pulled him close? 

You thought his parting would allow you room to breathe. How very wrong you were. 

Shoving all contemplation aside, you decide to coat the room with concern, your assertion making a brief comeback, “He said a lot of shit, Yoongi. What was that about?” 

He languidly approaches the long table at your side—one you faintly noticed while leaving the room the first time. Unbothered, he slides unhurried fingers over a gun, stopping on the barrel before reaching for something less lethal. 

A decanter, it seems. Liquid flows from the container into a smaller glass, and you assume it’s whisky from the deep amber tones and luscious pour.

When you wonder where else Yoongi litters his weapons, he cuts through your surveying, 

“You really wanna know?” 

Looking up, you nod. 

He sets the bottle down with a dull clink. “He took his chances.” 

“His.. What?” 

Now what the hell could this man mean by that? You were clearly being coaxed into leaving the premises, vaguely feeling like something seemed off. How is he being so dismissive about all this? 

Slowly, Yoongi shakes his head, looking out into the night while taking his initial sip. “I don’t come here often. But when I do, I come alone.” Long fingers nestle his cup perfectly as he explains further, “It’s been awhile, so. Had to feel out the staff.” 

The staff. Is that why Yoongi held your hand? To weasel someone out? You really thought he meant it when he said he just wanted to… 

How naive. 

“His plan could’ve been solid.” 

“But what?” You ask, newfound frustration clipping your tone. 

Yoongi slides you a look over the rim of his glass. “He didn’t know who he’d be dealing with.” 

Your eyes roll so far they strain.

But this begs a question. Does he mean dealing with you? Or him? Surely he meant your little show at the elevator but he could very well mean himself. 

Facts are facts. Would Yoongi really trade il-don for you? Absolutely not. So you have to assume he’s mostly talking about the latter. 

Your scoff is pitched to the side, “Of course. You wouldn’t trade il-don for anything.” 

Yoongi pauses, not acknowledging your comment in the slightest as he strolls back your way. “Something I am curious about..” As he leans in, musk and whisky invade both your space and senses. And you hate, hate, hate that you need more of it. “Who was he talking to?” 

“Someone he royally pissed off.” 

“Mm.” 

“You’re not gonna punish him?” 

“Me? Nah.” Leaning on the sideboard, he stares out the windows across the room. Your vision follows suit. “Not until I have to.”

If what happened wasn’t enough to warrant a punishment, you’re morbidly curious about what ticks the box. “I figured he’d be dead by now. At least for trespassing.”

Yoongi only shrugs. “Grey zones aren’t just amnesty for the clans. Anything goes here, too, so a ransom attempt isn’t surprising.” 

This man really doesn’t stand on black or white. Here you are with eggs for brains discovering you were almost taken instead of saved, and he’s chalking it up to, what, just another Tuesday? Or is it still Monday? You don’t even know anymore. 

Your question leaves you a little scuffed. Because you feel exactly like leftover goods. The fruit at the back. “Are you always this heartless?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

Great. 

So much for being… Safe up… here… 

You glance at the touch on your hip, and your eyes traverse up his arm as he toys with your belt again. 

Shouldn’t you feel disgusted? Shouldn’t you be walking away? It’s crystal clear how little this man thinks of you, or anyone for that matter. He probably brought you along just to be a shield for his precious il-don. So why can’t you bring yourself to leave? 

Your knot starts to loosen.

His voice begins to flow.

“But if you’re gonna go for what’s mine, don’t be an idiot.” 

Wait.

No. Nope. Stop thinking about what that could mean. Because if you think too hard, it will only leave you disappointed. 

But there’s something you won’t stop doing. And Yoongi knows you won’t. So as he keeps playing at your waist, your words come out in shudders, 

“Can’t believe you used me.” 

Yoongi hums, and it makes you shiver when his touch leaves you to rest against wood counters. “You’re about to use me, too.” 

Fucking hell, he’s right. 

“Gotta say I didn’t expect it, but..” Damn him and his head tilts. “I’m impressed.” 

You’re too empty-headed that you can’t even process his words as genuine praise. His touches already feel like pops of lights in the night sky.

It’s a given. You aren’t prepared for him in the slightest.

“Come here.” 

Lightly pulling your hand, Yoongi brings you to stand in front of him. And from this point of view, you become even more ensnared. 

His robe flows down his taut build so beautifully, painting him like dark water over rolling hills. At his peak, the hair you’ve come to miss frames his face like artwork. Mesmerizing. Your downfall. 

“You get one more chance. Tell me why I’m awake.” 

Your brow lift is only a front. The rest of you is shaking, trembling, howling. “You clearly know.”

“Tell me anyway.” 

Relentless. Will you shame yourself for wanting to see him use this same strategy on other people? Most likely. But will that stop you from thinking about it anyway? Absolutely, positively not. 

But there’s another side of you that’s being comforted. And it’s the side that realizes how much he’s spoken, how much time you’ve spent without needing to watch behind your back. 

Yoongi talking this much? It’s making things easier. And it’s strangely making you feel a little better, even if the subject matter isn’t the greatest topic in the universe. 

After you steal a glance at the other whisky glass, you look into his eyes. Determined and decisive. Knowing exactly what you want at this very moment, because you just need a little more time. 

“Tell me more. About grey zones.” 

Something in the air freezes. And Yoongi’s brows crease so comically you almost laugh. “That’s it?” 

“Yes.” 

His nod is slow as he sets down his glass.

And you’re quickly hauled back so fast that you don’t have time to react. 

A rush of air. The world topples. Soft sheets. 

Dangerously, a thin chain sways above as Yoongi shrouds your body in silk and lingering smoke. A gasp escapes you as he peers into your eyes, and your senses fire as a commanding hand slides up your thigh. 

“Final answer?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck you know you want him and you still do but also talking to him isn’t half bad and maybe you’re just tired of being lonely— 

Musk. Alcohol. Breathing hard, you take it all in. Slowly nodding because you can’t function otherwise, which makes a dragon flash teeth. 

But he obliges without moving a muscle, so you’re left underneath a demon—robe dangerously close to opening and exposing everything once again.

A man of conviction, Yoongi does exactly as you ask. Eyes drooped, he continues his explanations, as if he didn’t just shove you into his enormous bed and tangle you under his legs, 

“They started awhile ago, back when all the high-powers got locked in a grudge match. Took half the city with them.” 

Immediately, your shoulders start to sink into his tale. “Half is a lot.” 

“Everything went to shit,” he agrees. “Not even the Politicol could stop it all.” 

“Bullshit.”

His level expression is enough to refute.  

Now that’s a shock to learn. For as long as you can remember, the Politicol have always held more power than any force should ever have. If they weren’t able to keep this under control, the high-powers used to be ungodly. 

Staring at the slippage on Yoongi’s shoulder, you wonder if those ink lines are to immortalize the ones that came before him. The history he must’ve grown up memorizing. 

Still.. Why does he have them all? There’s no way he doesn’t know how disrespectful that is to all three clans. 

But then again. He said he didn’t choose them himself. Which leads you nowhere in this unending maze. 

Head disheveled; robe coming undone. To outsiders, you’d be at Yoongi’s mercy. 

But in reality, you’re laser focused on him and his explanations. Especially when his voice scratches every itch just right. “So…” You watch his gaze slowly slide down your face. “What happened?”

Even now, Yoongi’s hands stay exactly where they are. The only thing that moves is the tinkling swing of his silver above your warming neck. “Deals were made, stripping power from all of them in certain sectors so that none could completely take over.” 

“Why only in certain ones?” 

A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Let’s just say the negotiations went how you think they did.” 

Your eyes roll yet again. But another question pings into your mind as quick as the first one, knitting your brows. “Wait… Deals with the Politicol? Or each other? No way they would’ve let cowards put them all on a leash.” 

At this, something interesting passes over Yoongi’s face.

But it flits away before you can snatch it for further inspection, and the shift of his leg against your thighs resets your brain. 

“Any of the clans could’ve monopolized if they had the right resource, but. They weren’t ever gonna let outsiders get a piece. Called a truce and kept their mouths shut.” 

Makes sense. You know exactly what resource he’s referring to. “The il-don.” 

“That’s part of it.” He shifts again, but this time, your legs have more room to move. “But grey zones have priority infrastructure. The ones that keep the lights on. If you had the money, you had the people. And people are the best resource there is.” 

It’s at this moment that a lot of things click into place. 

And one of those is figuring out that you may have been a little wrong about the man above you. 

Is he heartless? To a high degree. But that comes with being calculating. Patient. Smart. Everything that Yoongi has been this entire time you’ve tagged along. 

He’s not keeping the il-don safe because he treasures it. It’s because the money is a tool. A tool to help him get what he wants whenever he needs. And leverage it for value instead of frivolous decisions and material things. 

Yoongi must have really, really enjoyed your tangerines.

A stray touch finally makes its way inside your thigh. And you flare between your legs. Shivering. Aching. You’re sparkling inside but won’t allow yourself to fully explode. Not when he’s revealing so much without telling. Not when you’re starting to see things from his angle. 

“Keep talking,” you rush out, gripping his robe and squeezing his pelvis. 

Though his fingers still light flares on your skin, Yoongi stops in his daring quest, observing your face without judgment. 

“I like it,” you shakily admit. Because screw it, since you’ll never see him again. “Learning about all this.” 

You sigh at his weight. His beautiful, strangely calming weight. “About you, too.” 

Stopping all movements, Yoongi coats your skin with gravel. “What good will knowing all this do.” 

He’s got a point. And it hammers home exactly what you were just thinking. “Nothing, maybe,” you answer, squeezing his robe a little longer. 

Fuck, you really are this deprived. This lonely. Is bedding a dangerous man—this dangerous man—really better than being alone right now? A mental reset is outstandingly in order throughout the coming abysmal months.

You finish your weak explanation, hoping it’s enough to convince him, 

“But it’s helping.” 

Yoongi lifts his head to watch your eyes. And you observe how dark his are in return. How cold. 

But yet.. Why do you also see…?

With a slight huff, you tack on, “And you aren’t so annoying to talk to right now.” 

There it is. That spark you’ve seen before in dusty, tinkering streets. “Don’t push your luck.” 

“I might.” 

He exhales, shifting himself into a sitting position and facing the door. “The thing about grey zones.. No affiliation, no rules. You can be anyone here.” 

When you lift your upper body to sit, you watch his side profile as you repeat, “Anyone?” 

Yoongi turns to look at your lips. 

You know there’s a question you want to ask. But for some reason, it’s difficult to say. 

But eventually, you can’t help it. Because you’re intrigued. You’re haunted. And you really, really need this. 

“Then who do you want me to be.”

He lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Looking into your eyes, he asks in disbelief, “You?”

“I’m pretty good at pretending.” 

“Sure you are.” He gives you another small grin before resting forearms on his knees. “But you don’t want my answer to that.” 

Swallowing is proving too difficult. What the hell does he mean by that? Is it one big bluff or a real opinion? “You’re just being a pussy.” 

All you get is the side of his cheek rising high.

Yeah. He’s not gonna tell you a damn thing. 

“Forget about me then. Who are you right now?” You wait as his expression falls back to earth. “Agust? Or Yoongi?” 

When you end with silence, you’re met with an approaching shadowed visage. And even in this moment, you sense static in the air, both of you poised and locked in a dangerous, thrilling dance. 

“You tell me.” 

Your breath cuts as he slips a finger inside your robe, and you dare not breathe when he pulls—slow, unhurried, intoxicating. 

You’ve never felt quite like this. 

Are you supposed to do something, too? Is there something that usually happens here? Your experience isn’t zero but it is clearly leagues below where it should be. 

Before you can blink a third time, your garment is ever, ever so slightly off your shoulder.

And you haven’t uttered a damn thing.

So he keeps going, sliding it lower, and lower, until he reveals a part of you that you didn’t mean to reveal so suddenly before. 

This time, it’s deliberate. And that makes it terrifying. 

This is the point of no return. The slope of your chest barely keeps your robe from dipping any farther. It’s happening, and life between you will never be the same when it’s over. 

And yet. 

Your nerves speak up at the worst time.

“Get me a drink,” you whisper, “Then maybe I will.”

Yoongi flicks up an eyebrow before obliging, and you silently mourn the loss of his heated touch. 

He walks over to pour you something neat, taking his time bringing both glasses to the bed. When you sit up properly, you habitually adjust your robe, scoffing at his hum. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, taking the glass and smelling the piercing aroma. “Maybe this is what I needed all along.”

“You ever had sex before?”

The question is so sudden and blunt that you cough up a burning sip. “Ow, fuck..” Wincing, you wipe your mouth before breathing in scratchy inhales. “If you must know, I have.”

“Maybe you are good at pretending then,” Yoongi drawls. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t get me wrong. This situation is new to me.”

His brow raises are definitely talking a lot for him. 

“I’ve just never.. I dunno. Never had just one night.” Taking a more cautious sip, you continue. “Much less with someone like you.”

“Like me?”

“With a.. You know.” You fiddle with your glass. “A customer.” 

When you hear his reaction, you stare at his raised cheek, stomach fluttering when he sighs downward,

“You can’t just say shit like that.” 

“I can say whatever I want,” you counter. “Especially since I…”

You don’t wanna finish that. It helps that Yoongi doesn’t look your way still, taking a sip of his whisky instead. His locks swing forward as he leans, and you almost reach out to feel them. Maybe you’ll get to very soon. When you finally get over this final hurdle of outright shyness. 

Why are you so timid right now? Why can’t you just tell him what you very obviously came in here for and get on with it? You’ve been decisive as fuck the rest of today, so what’s got your tongue pressed this time? Is it really your abysmal level of experience?

Or is it because you’re gravitating to more sides of him with each passing second? 

“Since you what.” 

“Since I don’t like you,” you snip. 

Yoongi flashes teeth in amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You take another drink, feeling the burn down your throat. “I don’t have to if it’s true.” 

Both of you keep drinking in silence after that. Which makes things a weird mix of calm and awkward, considering what your original mission was. 

Going over the events of today, it’s a wonder why you aren’t crashing into a dreamless sleep. You’ve been up and having the most exhausting day ever, and yet, you can’t imagine shutting your eyes. 

Think of something else to talk about. Anything. Any topic you could possibly hold a conversation with Yoongi over. 

What did he respond to before? No small talk, since the plantains thing from months ago was a bust. And when you conversed over ramyeon it was more of him angering you on purpose—wait a minute. 

There was something you never circled back to. 

And as soon as you ask him about it, he appears impressed you remembered, 

“Were you bluffing when you said you knew what I was shopping for?” 

“No,” he responds immediately. “And I know I’m right.” 

“Prove it.” 

Mouth curved at an annoying angle, Yoongi shoots you a look before placing his drink down, getting up to walk to a tall armoire. 

Your eyes follow his every movement, even the way his ass moves under that damned robe. But soon, your jaw goes slack not because of his assets. 

But because the motherfucker was right on the money. 

How the… How the fuck did Yoongi know? 

In front of your face lies exactly what you were searching for. Sleek. Minimal. Lightweight and visibly balanced. You don’t even want to keep shopping around because this is the only one you want. 

How did he know you were shopping for daggers based on one single line of questioning? 

“I wasn’t gonna show you until you asked,” he divulges. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d forget. This one was hard as fuck to track down.” 

Eyes flicking up to his, you ask in wonder, “Can I…?” 

He lifts it slightly, signaling that you can indeed hold it yourself. 

And it’s perfect. 

“Wow,” you breathe out, feeling along its edges and hilt. It’s all one continuous line, with metal so black and matted that you almost moan. “I don’t have much on me, but.. I’ll give you whatever you want for this.” 

“Keep it.” 

What? 

“It’s yours.” 

There’s no way he’s just gonna gift this to you. It’s perfectly crafted in material you can’t even find in Crane. And they have almost every class of ore in existence. 

Who even is this man? 

“Yoongi, this is…” You shake your head while extending it back. “I can’t just take this.” 

“You can.” He fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist. “I did.”

Oh. Charming. The weapon you’re being gifted is stolen goods. “Well, in that case, I really can’t accept it.” 

But goddamn, this is more than perfect. You can’t even pluck one finger off the handle. And you can’t change the fact that it was already taken, right? Right?

“At least…” Scowling at your own crumbling morals, you mumble, “Not without good reason.”  

He looks at you over his shoulder. “Do I need a reason?” 

“No,” you reply. “But I’d like one.” 

Yoongi sighs long before moving his fingers. “I lied to you back there in the lobby.” Looking up at a clock instead of you, he works his jaw. “But this time, it really is just that.” 

“You expect me to believe you?” 

Fuck, the veins in his hands are so prominent when he laces them together. “No. But it’s better than those chopsticks you’re saving in the bathroom.”

Oh. So he saw those, too.

“Thank you,” is what you wave in white. Because that’s exactly how you feel and this one gesture does excuse some of his faults. Maybe. Or your standards have plummeted to the gutters. “I, umm. I usually keep one for self-defence. Just in case.” 

Turning it over and back again, you marvel at its light but solid weight. “But I lost mine in the last rough raid before they suddenly stopped.”

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“K.” Placing it on the closest nightstand, you go back to holding your glass between your hands. “One day I’ll pay you back somehow.” 

Yoongi shoots that down on sight. “No need.” 

“But I want to.” 

He glares before picking up his alcohol. “Anyone that owes me shit gets treated a lot different.” The drink rests in his hand like a liquid gem. “So just accept it as a gift, doll.” 

You’d laugh if you knew he was kidding. But you know he’s dead serious, so you only nod. 

It’s quiet again as you both retreat into your minds. 

Yoongi has the mental fortitude of a fortress it seems. Because he really is set on waiting until you tell him what you woke him up for, and it’s been awhile since this all started. 

But being in his presence while the night is quiet is somewhat comforting. You’re finding it easy to think about other things now, especially after he gave you so much to mull over. 

Like grey zones and how they came to be. It’s fascinating how you had no clue even though you should. Even though this whole conflict affected half the city. 

Wanting to gain more insight, you blurt your curiosity, “How long ago were the grey zones fought over? Before everything was decided?” 

“Years. Decades, at this point,” Yoongi answers, his gaze locked as you think about this timeline. “Most people don’t even bother knowing, though.”

“Why? This sounds like a big part of our history.” 

“No one cares if a Crane kills a Dragon.” His tone shifts slightly. And you wouldn’t have caught it if not for his subtle sulk. “They only resent the blood they have to wipe from the street.” 

Your lids lower all the same. Because that resonates deep within your chest, so much so that you feel your heart bend in its aching. “No one cares about us, either.” 

When Yoongi catches your look, you give a sad excuse of a smile. “Being a vendor? Especially where I am? You quickly figure out how little you matter. You as a person, I mean.” 

You slide fingers along the tiny rim of your glass, lost in the fibers of his rug more than anything else. 

Maybe you’re just a loose fiber in the rug of this city. One that will pretend to run only to be swept back into the folds. “The only things that people remember are what you offer. Anything other than that isn’t worth their time.” 

Lifting your chin, you save face. “Can’t say I won’t miss you.” May as well admit it all if you aren’t ever gonna see him again. “You were the only one that ever let me bother them.” 

“You never bothered me.” 

You look up to see him staring. Lip curled upward, you huff. “With all the looks you gave me? I find that hard to believe.” 

Yoongi doesn’t laugh in return. “What would I gain from lying?” 

Mm. That’s an interesting question. But the alcohol starts to talk for you as you have the balls to flirt. “People lie to get laid, for one.” 

“Mm.” He takes a measured sip of his glass, the last dredges of it swaying at the bottom. “Can’t say I’ve ever needed to.” 

“Shocker,” you drawl, sipping to match his pace. And it’s after this drink that you loosely admit, “This is really good, by the way.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Lifting the glass to peer inside, you swirl it around before divulging a past you don’t talk about—ever. But what are rules of conversation when you want to stall? “My uncle got me into whisky a long time ago. But fruit stands don’t pay for top shelf alcohol.” 

“Where’s he at now?” 

“Uhh.” You look away. “Gone.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” 

He gets up, and you watch in silence as he makes his way to the sideboard. Stuff shifts around before he appears to pour another glass. And he stays there for a bit, black robe blending into all the dark decor. 

“Yoongi?” 

He turns. 

“Can you keep talking?” You keep your drink steady between your robed legs. Buzzed and vulnerable, you offer an explanation, “Turns out there’s a lot I wanna forget right now.”

Like endings. And future endless days without your most frustrating, most dangerous, most favorite customer. 

Yoongi pauses before walking back to the bed. When his thighs settle next to yours, he asks without much heart, “What do you wanna know.”

“You.”

His jaw shifts, and you feel a slight tug in your chest. 

Was that too forward? Probably. But you’ll take what you can get, like a last meal chosen to hit every one of your desires. “Anything you wanna tell me, of course.”

Yoongi remains quiet. Which isn’t unexpected but still a little letdown. 

“Not much to tell.” 

Ah. Just more lies then. Maybe you should stick to the original plan. “Nothing at all?”

He looks at you, planting a hand on the bed to lean a little closer. “Nothing you’d wanna hear.”

You shift between his eyes. Wondering if it’s better not knowing or if you really do wanna give in. 

Perhaps his eyes will speak for him instead. Glowing dark. Hints of ember and smoke. Years and years squeezed into those irises. 

“What if I do,” you quietly question, catching the light on his alcohol-tainted lips. 

Reaching out, you boldly place a thumb over one side, slowly brushing off excess liquid and marveling at how soft he is there. Tender, just like his name. “What if I don’t care.”

Yoongi waits for a moment before holding your wrist, the atmosphere trembling and buzzing around your shoulders. Oxygen depletes as he leans in close, his beautiful features almost touching yours. 

You feel something locking into place. Something beautiful and terrifying. And it holds you down as you feel his hair, his warmth, his—

A noise blares into the room before you can feel yourself rushing upward, your body reacting on survival instinct alone. Glasses spill onto the rug and you don’t know what’s happening but lack of sleep lack of comfort lack of everything has you ready for—

Time stops. 

Sounds muffle. 

And your eyes flash wide as you see the tip of your blade pointed straight at Yoongi’s side. 

Just as he’s poised with a gun pointed towards the door. 

It’s a phone ringing. 

A fucking. Telephone. 

What have you done?

As Yoongi slowly shifts his gaze to your outstretched hand, you tremble in severe regret. Regret that you pulled this on him with the very weapon he gave you. Regret that he knows all there is to know about how you still feel about him. 

But you didn’t mean to… You didn’t even think. And you abhor how you directed your fear at the one person that kept you alive. The one person you fucking saved. 

When Yoongi lowers his gun, he doesn’t acknowledge the guilt on your face. But as he walks away to grab his device, his gaze flicks back to you before he answers across the room. 

Shit. 

You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up. 

You weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t care. You really weren’t. But who knows what Yoongi will think of you after that shock of a face off. 

Coming into his room was most definitely a mistake. Now you can’t wrangle your emotions for shit, head pounding with feelings and outcomes and adrenaline to the brim. 

Yoongi’s close to the wide bathroom stairs, so you can’t hear what’s being said. He does keep looking at you, though, which keeps your fingers pressed against a hilt. 

Are you in danger? Will Yoongi not want anything to do with you anymore? Is it alarming that you can’t decide which one is worse? 

The call doesn’t last long.

And as soon as he hangs up, you’re sputtering like a broken fountain, dagger still wielded as he stalks forward—phone clunking to the ground. “Who was that.” 

“No one.”

“What’s gonna happen to me.” 

“Nothing.” 

Fuck. You really did fuck everything up. Your brain is so battered that you’re gonna be skittish and paranoid for a long, long time. “Yoongi, I’m so—I didn’t mean to—It just happened—”

Forget it. It’s over. Your last interaction will haunt you forever and the only way you’ll experience what could’ve happened between you will be in your wildest darkest sweetest illest—

Burns flare at your eyes when Yoongi’s chest meets the quivering tip of your blade. 

“Stop,” you wince out, a damning tear pinging to your feet. “Just stop.” 

He starts to walk forward, which alarms you enough to step back because what the fuck is he doing! Why can’t your arms move? Why can’t you lower the fucking dagger? 

“I can’t,” you croak. “I can’t move.”

You’ve been firing on all fronts the whole day. Even in your dreams, you’re in survival mode. You can’t unlock your arms because they fight for the rest of you. Your legs propel you when the rest of you wants to give up. 

But that still doesn’t stop your heart from aching. It burns, it burns, it burns. 

When Yoongi grips your wrist, you choke on a sob. When he calls you smart, you squeeze your eyes shut in shame. And when he whispers to drop the fucking blade or he’ll do it for you, you do so after a maddening pause. 

It clunks to the ground when a gun does, and you’re suddenly spun until the backs of your knees hit something solid. 

Immediately, you’re thrust back onto dark sheets again, tears now rolling into your ears as you instinctively let Yoongi smother you whole. 

His hand slides to your inner thigh, and your mind reels when you start feeling a hardness on your stomach. Breath whooshes out of your mouth before you're covered in silk and muscle, and pleasure bursts from where he quickly devours your neck fuck.

Hands are quick to untie your robe as fire stokes your throat. 

“I won’t ask again,” he vows with a voice that rumbles. “Tell me what you fuckin’ want.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Say it and it’s yours.” 

“Make me forget,” you shove through your teeth. “Just make me fucking forget.” 

“How.” 

Fuck lack of experience. Fuck being shy. You aren’t wasting another damn second and your emotions need all the release they can get. Loose lips, loose tongue, looser inhibitions.

The monster inside of you yanks at its chain, claws and claws at its confines screaming at you to give in. You need this. You want this, especially if Yoongi himself is gonna give it so willingly.

Just say it. Just say it.

“If this really is the last time I’ll see you…” 

Yoongi stills as your eyes lock unblinking. 

Tell him. Four words. 

“Fuck me like it.”

A proverbial chain snaps as Yoongi dives into your neck, ravishing you and sucking hard on your vein. When you yelp, your clenched legs seem to encourage, and he thrusts forward to launch you up the bed with a purpose. With intention.

All to let you know what you just got yourself into.

His fingers light little fires along your skin, burning everything in their paths up your arms, your sides, squeezing into your imperfections and latching down. His lips set your being ablaze as he keeps feasting, causing your breaths to get shorter, and shorter, and shorter. 

“So sensitive..” 

When you feel the warm swipe of a tongue, your eyes scrunch shut as you shudder. Which makes the whole thing worse for you when Yoongi chuckles dark in return. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for this.” 

“Shut up,” you huff out, grasping for his robe and raking at his sleeves. “Of course I am—Fuck.”

His thumb rolls across your exposed nipple, pinching it to make you arch right up into his chest. “You sure?” 

When the hell did he even open your robe? How did he do that so quick without you knowing? 

You bite down on your lip to keep from screaming, nodding in determination while your brows almost kiss. 

Watching your expression, Yoongi pinches again, biting his own lip while slowly spreading that shit grin. Your moan comes out more like a muted hum, which seems to displease. 

“Uh uh,” he orders. “You’re gonna be loud for me.”  

“But what if someone—” 

“They won’t.” 

He continues in his control, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up before shoving it to the side. 

And you know where he’s going. But it still shocks you all the same when his fingers make contact with your slick. 

Your very, very wet slick. 

Many, many things will haunt you for life. Your experiences. Your choices. 

But right now? The only thing that will follow you to your grave is this distinct, biting, staccato batch of laughter. “You shouldn’t’ve ever come in here.” 

Breath ragged, you watch as Yoongi concentrates, exploring your cunt with his long digits and hitting every nerve with perfection. When you rub against him, he growls, lifting shiny fingers to insert right into his mouth. 

Sucking. 

Licking. 

And your eyes mirror his at once—as black and pulsing as fallen stars. 

He swoops down at the same moment you tug on his clothing, his mouth latching onto the side of your neck he hasn’t ravaged. Impatient, his hand yanks the bottom of your robe to the side, fully exposing your legs and leaking folds while you grapple with your own obstacles. 

It’s messy. It’s jilted. It’s exactly what you want. 

As soon as you find the slit in his robe, you take a brave leap and reach for his cock, not knowing what you’re gonna find but having a vague idea based on his—

Oh. What.

Fuck, he’s gonna split you in two. 

You’ve held one before. You know what they feel like. But this cannot be possible and you’re already mentally preparing yourself for your breaking point. 

“You good?” 

You snap your head right up, realizing how stunned you must be if he’s asking. “I… You’re fucking huge.” 

Yoongi doesn’t react, but that somehow makes it more attractive. Like he knows. And he doesn’t deny a thing. “That a problem?” 

“I mean… I think I’ve lived a good enough life.” 

To your surprise, the man above breaks completely as you keep blabbering, shoulders shaking alongside those stupid dimples. Those beautiful, elusive dimples. Too bad this is the last time you’ll ever see them. “Did what I wanted.. Not everything, but most of my list.” 

Yoongi’s still chuckling. And for a brief moment, you’re brought back to the days he was just a patron. Back to when you would think about him before bed, delighted to see him stop by. 

This is him. This is Yoongi with you now. 

Where was he this whole time? Was he really waiting until you answered him for real? 

You went so far into your head that you missed the change in position. So it makes you jump like hell when you realize where his teal mop of hair resides. “Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?” 

Between your thighs, Yoongi lifts a brow, locking your legs with tough arms before you can even move. 

“Yoongi, you don’t have to—oh, fuck!” 

The first contact of his tongue on your folds makes your eyes burst, your legs effectively being pinned down in their tensing. Jolts of lust spiral from your core as he licks, sucks, twirls around your clit like it’s second nature, and you feel yourself welcoming his every thrust.

This is happening. This is happening? You’ve never done this before, not that you’ll admit it. Whatever Yoongi’s doing is completely new territory for you and you don’t ever think you’ll leave. Permanent residence. No other land to discover. 

Whines echoes throughout the room before you slap a hand over your mouth. Because the whole world will hear his name if you don’t. Especially when he adds fingers and curls them just right what the fuck! 

He makes you forget. And forget. And forget. You even forget your own name. Only his. Saying it into your palm over and over and clawing his sheets with the other. 

A low growl rumbles between your legs before you hear him purr, “Just like I fucking thought.” 

What’d he say? He didn’t say that. You’re hearing things, you’re sure of it. There’s absolutely no way Yoongi’s imagined anything about you, much less what you taste like. 

And the words keep coming as he whispers how tight you feel. How hot. How perfect you’re gonna fit him. 

While all you can utter in return is gibberish mixed with the syllables of his name. 

Pleasure rolls in waves as he learns every inch of your cunt, fingers drenched in your slick and the curves of his cheeks lathered in your scent. When he reaches beneath you to grope your ass, he gives a rough squeeze. 

“Move your fucking hand.” 

Your eyes fling wide. 

“I wanna hear you.” 

“No, I’m—there could be people—”

He clambers over you, robe wide open and revealing a body that rips your soul clean out. When he seizes your palm to shove it to the side, another monster starts to wake within your chest. 

And this one takes treacherous pleasure in those slitted eyes. 

“You’re gonna scream for me.” 

“Or else what.” 

The dark rumble. The rolling thunder. 

Your other monster is starting to match his glint. “You don’t wanna do that with me, doll.” 

“Do what?” you ask with flitting eyes. 

When all you get is a sharp smirk in return, your stomach flips in desire and excitement. So when he slaps the side of your breast, you hum high with a delighted flinch.

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” 

Yes. This is what you came in here for. Your shyness will have to be comfortable with the unknown, but it’s also helping seeing Yoongi much more relaxed. 

Like a normal person. 

Especially when he leans over to open his bedside drawer, hair swaying as he grabs for what you think are condoms. 

Your hunch is right when he rights himself again, teeth nicking a wrapper before tearing it in one sweep. When you start to clench your legs together in response, he shoves them back open with a thigh, robe parting to show exactly what’s going to splice you in half. 

You’ll gladly take his amusement at your jaw unhinging. Because what you see is heaven sent. 

Yoongi says nothing as he wraps himself fully, and he continues to be silent as you whisper, 

“I wanna see you.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to understand. As his length presses against your core, he slips off his dark robe, letting it slide down equally dark sheets before pouring onto the floor. 

You’re just as quiet as he situates himself above your beating heart. Which is for the best. Your thoughts are better left unsaid. 

All you can do is grip his arm, sliding your hand up until you can finally, finally brush his hair with your own fingers. Exhaling when you discover how soft it feels. How comfort can be found in something as trivial as tendrils.

“This is helping, too,” you murmur to his lips, inhaling what you realize is your own scent. 

When he cradles your chin, your breath cuts. “Things happen when you say what you want.” 

“If only it was always that easy.”

“It is with me.” 

Your heart skips twice before tripping on itself, and you instinctively curl your palm against his head. “Everyone around you must be so lucky.” 

An eyebrow lifts before he huffs. “Not talking about just anyone, love.” 

…Huh? 

What does he mean by that because shit you’re getting tugged forward he’s so strong—

“Now, if you’re gonna be difficult,” Yoongi warns. “Let’s give you enough time to reconsider.” 

Your thighs widen as he positions himself at your entrance, cockhead rubbing along your folds as you tense. 

“Uh uh.” He hums. “This is what you want, yeah?”

“It’s been awhile,” you spat, rolling your eyes when he shoots you a knowing look. “Just… give me a second.” 

Obliging, Yoongi starts slow, making your head roll into the pillow as you accommodate his girth. Holy fuck, he’s big. But he’s sliding in easy after his little feast down there, which you piece together as one big prep for the main course. 

“Fuck,” he groans, resisting every urge to plow straight into you. At least, from what you can decipher in his pinched features. If this feels amazing for you, you can’t even imagine what he must be feeling now. It only gives you butterflies knowing he’s following through with his word. “So fucking tight.” 

“Not my fault you take up… so much space,” you grit through your teeth, neck straining as you blow air to the ceiling. 

Fully sheathed, Yoongi rests inside until your muscles relax. And you only peel your eyes open when you start to slip into more pleasure than anything else. 

Okay. You can do this. You can fit him surprisingly well—maybe too well—and you’re okay to keep going without restraint. 

When you peer down your body, you expect him to look bored or indifferent. Like he’s wasting time dealing with you. 

So it makes you shiver when Yoongi looks ready to ruin. 

Toned arms flex at his sides, hands keeping your thighs held in their place. When a strand of vibrant hair falls, his chains spark in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. A dragon that waits. And waits.

You’re ready. Your demise will be your reward. 

“I’m good,” you assure him. “You can move now—”

A second invisible chain snaps with a clink, and Yoongi launches into a thrust that has you seeing stars. You tumble through the dark as he thrusts again, mouth open with silent yells before you gnaw right into your lip. 

“Relax for me,” he commands. “Just like that.” 

Your cunt hugs him tight as you bounce even harder, his little grunts of praise making you mewl and whimper in bursts. 

Fucking hell, this feels good. 

You cannot wait to find out how it’ll feel when you piss him off. 

His hands grip your hips, hosting you up onto his thighs as he thrusts hard into your cunt. Your body rocks in an arch, limp and at his mercy—which there is very little of. Enchanted, your  lip tightens with the pull of your teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he feels so fucking good and hitting. Just. Right. 

It all carries you so far gone that as soon as you feel a rush of air, the sting on your ass makes you react—piercing moan making both of you freeze.

And Yoongi’s eyes deepen a shade as he slowly grins. “There you go.” 

“Don’t act like you—fuck!” His second swat has you grunting through your teeth, and his thrust forward at the same time he does it again has you whining. Monosyllabic, his name shoves out of your lungs, with each part more chipped than the next. 

“What’s that, love?”

“Yoongi, please—”

“That’s right.” He clutches your sides so damn rough. “Say my fuckin’ name.” 

And his pace pitches you into the sun, rocking so hard you won’t be surprised if the bed frame snaps in half. In thirds. In sevenths. Your legs go completely limp as he drives in, filling you and hitting a spot that pierces your eyes with stars and light and lust. Down down down you spiral, up up up you go. It’s only you and him now, with Yoongi plowing into you like his life ends come morning. 

There’s nothing in the world that feels like this. Burdened by the dangerous weight of a man—this man—while feeling so light you could float? Absolutely nothing can compare. 

Your body finally rests as he stops, but you get no breather as he flips you over with strong arms. Disoriented, you squeak as he tugs you backward, your ass rising in the air as your head is shoved into luxury cotton. 

Sweet pain sears your ass again, and you gasp with wide eyes as you feel his cock at your entrance. “What are you—”

“Lift up. Higher.” He slides his dick up your folds. “You’re gonna like this.” 

“You don’t speak for me—”

He thrusts into you as soon as you get accustomed to his length and size. And the place his thumb presses makes you scream into your pillow. His pillow. A hotel suite pillow that you’re biting to stay afloat. 

How the fuck does that feel so good? How does all of this feel so good? His thumb on your asshole already has you melting, but the smacking of his sack against your clit makes you want to repent.

“So fucking—fuck.”

Drool strings from your mouth as your arms are tugged at the elbows, your whole upper body coming up for air. Precious precious air that’s cut off when Yoongi chokes you from behind.

“Yoo—!”

His strength slams your chest into the headboard, right at the edge of the bed before you feel the force of his palm hit the wall. 

“What did I fucking say.”

“A lot.”

“I’m gonna hear you.”

“But—”

He shoves you flush against dark wood, your cheek smushing hard and your lips curling. “Let them hear you, too.” 

You keep your moans muted until fingers are shoved down your throat. And you gargle until he yanks them out. 

“That’s it. I know you can take it.”

“You’re easier…” Gritting your teeth in a smug grin, you taunt in a bold-faced lie, “Easier to take than I thought.”  

His laughter is not lighthearted. “You’re still gonna go there, huh.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you pout, eyes drooping from the euphoric shocks his thrusts provide. Sweat rolls down your arms as you slip on the wall, but it gives your chest a cool surface to rest. “Go where?” 

Suddenly, the grinding stops. And your cunt feels abandoned as he pulls out so fast. When you think to spin around, he spanks your ass with a harsh, “Don’t move.” 

Do you want to disobey? Yes. But you’re more curious than anything, so do as he says.

And your eyes light up when you realize what he comes back with. 

“Now… I could use this,,” he warns, pressing a silky smooth robe tie along your neck. “Since you don’t wanna behave.”

“Do it,” you taunt, wishing like hell that he does. Yes, yes, yes. You’re drunk on lust and volcanic want and you will fight for nothing more. “You won’t.” 

Your neck is rocked back before you feel him slap your ass. “Then stay still.” 

And you obey as you feel your belt—or his, either one—wrap loosely around your column before it’s tied. 

Gently, your chin is turned, and you’re surprised when you’re met with stern eyes. “Can you breathe.” 

Blinking, you nod. “Yeah, I can.” 

“Two taps if you’re out, understand?” 

“Yes.” 

A swift pat to your cheek. “What’d I say.” 

“Two taps,” you repeat, figuring out fast that you’re liking this development a little too much. “If I’m out.” 

Holy fuck the yank you feel is exhilarating, your body bending back as shock overcomes your senses. 

Lidded eyes staring down at yours, he vows, “You better make them count or we never do this again.” 

“I will, I will,” you rasp out, breath still coming to you fine albeit a little more harshly. “I promise.” 

“Good girl.”  

Wait, did he say again? 

As he slips right back inside, you lose all passing trains of thought. Cunt filled while his fingers clog your mouth makes you traverse to another plane. Every part of you, at his mercy—

Then he yanks you backward and all that mercy burns in the flames of heaven. Flocks to the clouds of hell.

The belt is completely taut as you succumb to his thrusts. Hard. Fast. Rough thrusts make you cry out as he toys with you, gravelly hums tumbling down your back as you arch for him. All the sounds you make echo throughout the room, a symphony of mewls and moans as Yoongi controls your every move. 

“Take it.”

“Hmm?”

“You want it,” he repeats. “So take it.”

Oh. Oh, he wants you to—Oh.

You start moving back and forth, doing exactly as he says. Taking what’s yours for the night and shamefully not forever.

But it turns out it’s not enough because he tugs. 

“Like you fucking mean it.”

Fuck.

Groaning, you move with more intention, sliding up and down his cock and feeling full every time. It feels good having control, you muse, and imagining him watching your debauchery turns you on that much more.

Your thrusts turn to rough slams, friction running fast while you chase it with all your strength. The groans you hear sound primal, hissed taunts egging you on.

“Guess you can listen after all.” 

“Fuck you.”

Another hard yank. 

Your laugh only spurns him on. 

Slaps to your ass, grabs to your breasts. Yoongi is worshipping every inch of you and you won’t even notice this until nights later when you’re alone. You’ll remember the way he squeezes just right, the way he fits so well, the places he hits with no hesitation nor guesswork. It’s pure experience strangling you with passion and you don’t even know how to embrace it all.

But then you start to feel it. Your breath tapering. It’s getting harder and harder to suck in air and you’re starting to see stars across your eyes. 

When you reach an alarming point, you quickly slap his leg twice, oxygen gushing into your lungs right as he lets go. 

You almost come on that exhilaration alone. Adrenaline pumps pumps pumps into your veins, eyes blowing black as he spins you around.

Hot, open mouth kisses pepper your burning throat, and you have the nerve to catapult him all the way back onto the bed. 

Yoongi lets you top him with a laugh, and you immediately use this opportunity to pin him down with a chokehold. Wanting him to feel the same way you just did. Knowing deep in your soul that he wants it, too.

“Cute.”

“You asshole.” 

Holy fuck, you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse. It’s rugged. 

It’s salacious.

He cocks a brow while peering down his nose. “You done?”

“What?” You blink. Slowly releasing his neck, you admit with a rasp, “No, that’s not what I.. I’m not done with you.” 

Yoongi slides into a smirk, and you attempt to scoff with a burning throat. 

You wanna tell him how good he is. How stupidly attentive he is. But all you settle for is something neutral. Safe. And maybe a little forward. 

“Just felt like calling you that.” 

Yoongi’s smile mellows into a line, and if you weren’t in such an evocative position, you would have thought it was genuine contemplation. But he slides hands up your thighs before slapping the side of your ass. “Get on.” 

Fuck. You don’t really know how. At least, you don’t know how to do it without showing him you aren’t used to it. 

So the confidence will keep getting faked. With a little help of your quick wit and tongue as you grab his length. “Didn’t hear a please.” 

Yoongi huffs out amusement. “I don’t say that.” 

His tip goes in fine. Fuck. Okay. You can do this you can do this. “Why am I not surprised—!” 

He shoves you down as soon as you give him enough leeway, and you groan out as you catch yourself with hands on his chest. 

“This is where you’re gonna live,” he says with confidence, laughing in condescension when you scowl. “Fuckin’ love it.” 

He can’t say stuff like that. 

You ride until you find a rhythm, rolling your body and finding the friction you want. It’s there for the taking. And he’s encouraging you with gravelly words and hums, with hands up your stomach and grasping your chest. 

After a single swirl of your hips, he throws his bed back until his neck strains. “Fuck.”

So you take that cue, rotating between rides and swirls. When he tweaks and rolls thumbs around your nipples, you clench hard around him, and he does it until you moan to the ceiling. 

A slap to your breast makes you whine, and you keep going before leaning forward, placing hands against his shoulders and bouncing your hips on his cock. 

“—a fucking natural,” Yoongi praises, chuckling to himself as he toys with the silk streaming down your neck. 

“Maybe I’ve just practiced.” 

“Show me more then.” 

Quickly, he tugs you down flush against him before grabbing your ass, slamming you down and pistoning up until you scream.

You start biting his shoulder to quell your shouts, which makes him moan loud enough to make you possessive. Wildly possessive. Before long, you feel yourself going limp on him, only for him, solely for his pleasure and yours. 

“Just like that. There you go.” 

You mewl into his skin as he grabs you, holding you down as he slams into you again and again and again. Drunk with power, you begin to mark his throat, devouring and feasting with reckless abandon.

Growling ragged, Yoongi flips your position and pins you face down, shoving up hard into your cunt before plowing. You fully lean into the yells now, saying his name and inching over the goddamn edge of the bed.

It’s there. Your release. It’s potent and it’s visceral and it’s everything you need need need—

“Yoongi, I’m close—”

He penetrates so far that you can taste him, and you come so harshly that you convulse. Squeezing like hell and quivering in a full body fold.

Holy shit, the screams. Is that you? 

The sinister laughs of pride prove you right. “That’s my girl. Fucking scream.”

You can’t stop. All you know is extreme pleasure coursing through your veins, pulsing beautiful colors and making you arch like mad. 

But you have more to handle. Yoongi prolongs your euphoria by yanking you back only to sink into you again, hands rubbing both nipples and tongue speaking deadly sins in your ear.

“You aren’t done,” he growls. “Lemme hear you again.” 

“I can’t—”

“Liar.”

His name rips from your mouth as you surprise yourself, gushing around his length and squeezing in powerful pulses. Nothing exists. Nothing at all. Everything you know is a feeling, as vibrant and shimmering as the sun above your street back home. 

All the heat you’ve ever felt coalesces along your skin, and the words whispered in your ear slide right down with your sweat. You aren’t quite sure what you hear. But judging by your preening, it has to be praise. Dirty, dirty, sinful praise. 

When your limp weight is flipped, you allow your legs to be hoisted up with no resistance. Looking upward, you peel open lids to the equivalent of a king. A god. And your outright awe blocks your ears from catching what your dragon swears. 

“—perfect,” he grits, inserting himself into your squelching folds. “Again.” 

No fucking way you have more left in you. You’re already floating in the ether, buzzing in pleasure and sweat and ecstasy. If you come one more time you’ll be an empty shell. 

“Earn it,” you boldly rasp out, grappling a bit of your spirit and reining it back one last time. “Take it, you bi—”

Your heart leaps up your throat as you’re pitched upward, groan serrated and high as you grin in triumph because it feels so fucking rewarding when he gives gives gives. 

Letting everything go relaxes your folds, causing Yoongi to rock into you with pride and without resistance. His chain smacks against his pecs at the same pace as your bouncing chest, and you’re more than sure you’re gonna feel bruises on your legs where he sinks his claws.

Skin slapping skin. Mewls and gritted curses. Heady scent covers them all in a thick layer and you feel the light grow closer and closer, stronger this time than all the others before it. Why? Why do you know this one will pitch you over the edge for good? 

Both of you may feel the same. 

Because Yoongi suddenly shoves himself so far into you and presses his body flush against your shuddering shaking screaming form.

You pulse frantically around him, throat sore and ragged from your final cry as tears stream down your face. It feels so fucking gorgeous that it hurts, and you enter a plane so mystical it’s completely separate from your earthly vessel. The two of you become closer than one, and you feel Yoongi stutter in his groan before yanking out and ripping the condom off.

Hot spurts paint your skin—a sweaty, spent canvas that dips slow with your labored breaths. His own breathing is rough but not exhausted, and you chalk that up to the mountain of stamina and experience he has on you. 

It’s done. 

Thoroughly spent.

All the pent up emotions dissipate in a slow descent. The chaos of today finally lowers its head, your monsters making their ways back into their cages. Moonlight shines brighter. Fuller. 

Illuminating a man in silver as he slowly heads into the bathroom. 

Holy fuck. You just slept with a gangster. With a Dragon.

With Yoongi.

There’s no way you can forget this. No way you can see yourself moving past this moment, even years and lifetimes from now. It doesn’t matter if Yoongi never thinks about you again, because something transpired in this room that you’ll keep locked away in your soul forever. 

As he brings back a towel to wipe his essence from your skin, you wonder. 

Was it all worth it? 

Or will this torture you in every dream you’ll ever have? 

A palm digs into the mattress before you feel weight and jewelry. The silk around your throat is carefully undone, and lazy, heated lips descend on your neck once more.

Bliss.

Sighing, you utter his name much softer now, telling him please without knowing what for. 

“What do you want,” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” you admit in a wisp. 

Yoongi keeps worshipping your throat, and you mewl when he reaches to rub your breast in a slow squeeze. When you drag your hand down to grip his cock, he tenses with a gritty hum. 

“Careful, love,” he rumbles. “There’s a lot more I can do with you.” 

“Tell me.” Your breath starts shorting in anticipation. “Tell me everything.” 

“Nah.” When he slides forward, the bare tip of him meets your cunt, causing you to flinch with a bitten lip. “You’re just gonna have to wonder. Day, after day, after day.”

Fuck this guy with the spite of a thousand lives. You’re the one holding his cock, so how the fuck is he still being this sure of himself? 

“Put it in,” you blurt, earning his gaze of utter confusion. 

“What?” 

“Just for a second.” You stroke him, feeling slick velvet and wetness coating your fingers. “That’s the last thing I want.” 

His eyes search yours, and for the first time tonight, he’s the one that looks hesitant. “You sure…?” 

“We’ll never do this again,” you whisper. “And I know you want it, too.” 

His gaze holds yours for a moment, searching your eyes for any sense of doubt. 

When he finds none, Yoongi positions himself at your entrance, and you feel his knuckles brush your folds before he sinks in. Slowly, cautiously, extraordinarily. 

And both of you groan so full. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi glowers, teeth sharp as he grounds them hard. His arm veins strain, shifting all his ink in pretty ebbs and flows. All his stomach snaps taut, and you can’t look away from his sheer look of concentration and lust. “Fuck.” 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, enjoying the way he’s slowly grinding against your walls. All the slick from your releases allows smooth strokes, and you already feel close for yet another time. An unbelievable amount of orgasm in such a short span. You’ll never reach this peak. Not with anyone else. “What the fuck, I’m close again—”

“Shit—”

It happens in a snap. But more of a mellowed, drawn-out river flow than a full waterfall. Your eyes slowly roll before closing, and your chest arches slow as you rock back and forth on his cock. The squeezes are harder. The pulses are fuller. You’re milking him for all he’s worth, like your cunt won’t let go until it’s pumped him dry. 

Which makes Yoongi lose his absolute mind, hissing as he pulls out quick before spilling onto you all over again. Again? 

Holy fuck, again? 

As he groans up above, his eyes are wiped dark completely. Which makes you wonder how you can still see stars embedded inside. 

Was it all worth it? 

You’ve never been more achingly sure.

It’s a long shot to know if he feels the same. And an even longer one for that to truly be the case. 

But it’s okay. 

This is the first, the last, the only time you have. And it was more than you could’ve ever asked for. 

As he falls into the sheets next to you, both of you exhale harsh, hearts pounding and pounding into the bed and to the ceiling. 

You can’t even move. Every single limb is sore from base to tip, and the door looks so, so far away. 

When you whisper his name, you get a little acknowledgement at your side. Gathering all the strength you have left, you whisper, 

“I know this is when I’d be kicked out, but.. I can’t move.” 

The small puff of air you get in return sounds like a yes. But you aren’t sure until Yoongi verbally gives you a real answer, 

“S’ok.” 

All you can do is hum, noticing with a sharp pang that you feel soft towel wipes before the smooth slide of sheets up your bare skin. 

“Just stay on your side.” 

Ah. 

Well. At least you aren’t alone for a night. 

“And you.. Stay on yours,” you murmur, darkness seeping into your peripherals. 

“Mm.”

Yoongi can be as cold and heartless and calculating as he wants. But you know he’s more than what he shows. 

Because with a second sharp hit to the chest, you also realize the side you’re on is the side he was on before. He’s not gonna make you move just to keep his preference. 

Don’t think too much about it. Do not. 

“I wish everything was different,” you whisper, drifting into a dreamless sea. “I don’t want to hate you...” 

Your forehead is swept by a warm hand. You cannot lift your lids any longer, but your ears still hang onto their efforts. 

And the last thing you hear before succumbing to the dark is a lighter flick and a fact. A cold, expected, damning fact. 

“You’ll always hate me.” 

When you wake, you’re greeted by the same room you fell asleep in. 

Sunlight cuts through grey skies to shine every surface, and you breathe in a musky, comforting scent as you stretch your limbs. 

Did last night really happen? 

The soreness between your bare legs is more than enough to prove so. 

Slowly turning, you whisper to Yoongi that you’re ready to go when he is. 

Only to find out that you’re talking to no one. 

Shit.

Shooting up, you start to panic. Maybe he’s in the living room already? Getting ready to call someone to bring you back home? 

Glancing at the nightstand on his side, you don’t spot the dagger he gifted you, brain grappling with what that could possibly mean. 

Your ribs crackle when you bite back emotion. It’s all over. 

Shifting back to swing your feet onto cold fibers, you pause with swimming eyes. 

Because the blade rests ready on your nightstand, propped on a set of plain clothes in the perfect position you would need it to be.

Teeth clenched and eyes burning, you swipe it before rushing out of bed, head pulsing and a dull ache between your legs. “Fuck..” 

The shirt and pants you’re given don’t exactly fit, but you’ll take what you can get as you punch limbs through long sleeves and high pants. 

Yoongi isn’t here. 

You feel it in your whole being, and you have no fucking clue why it hurts. 

But if he’s not here…

Who do you start to hear outside the door? 

You freeze, lungs expanding as you hold multiple breaths. 

It sounds like talking. But also a myriad of sounds? 

Heading into the bathroom, you silently glide across the floor before swiping up the chopsticks. Because yes, you’re still gonna save them. For defence. For keepsakes. For a grave reminder. 

Tucking them in a pocket, you ready your dagger under your garment, pressing it flat against your skin like you were trained to do. 

Slipping out into the hallway, you hear the sounds clearer. Movement. Slides of furniture. 

What the hell is going on? 

You’re about to retreat back into the room when a man crosses in front of the hall. 

And his hair is strikingly… 

Orange?

As he catches you in his vision, he stops on a dime, hand outstretched in greeting. “Hello!” 

Your step back makes him laugh. But you’re not laughing in the slightest as you question, 

“Where’s.. Where’s Agust?” 

“Gone.” The smile spreading makes you squint. “Need to see him?” 

Your answer is immediate.

“I’d rather die.”

-

-

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: alright before i say anything else: use the bathroom after sex, and especially after doing it unprotected!! i normally include it so this is a rare exception. but yes. please use the bathroom after, and practice safe sex always! a/n 2: WHO COULD THAT BE AT THE END THERE... ahahah but seriously, i for one am still swirly eyed just thinking about what's coming for these two.. they have no idea what's in store and i'm itching to get the next part done! a/n 3: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[lyrefromthesea]

HELLLLLAAAAW THEEERRRE, LISTEN (or read), I've been thinking. THAT I LOVE UR WRITING A LOOOOT, and I've been waiting but before that, idrk if u take req rn so feel free to discard this request! anyway, back to main topic, I've been wondering how the hashira's would react to reader/their s/o, adoring their hands a lot, like i mean— obsessed with their hands, whether its holding hands in public (or privately, if the character does not really like showing affection in public), or maybe yk hold hands in bed HWGAHGAHWHS, maybe, something like soft nsfw, like with fluff! u get me? just the character, comforting their s/o when they get too tense during their sexual intercourse, andddddd more fluff if u want! thank u for taking ur time to read!!

Male Hashira x Reader - Hold my hands

author's note: my fever has killed me a few times during this post.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: nsfw, sexual intercourse (Rengoku, Giyuu), mildly suggestive (Sanemi)

Tengen:

• who knows exactly what his hands can do to you and despite his teasing nature uses them for your comfort

• enjoys seeing you calm down because of his hands and though he doesn't want you to feel bad he certainly doesn't mind calming you down

he's been looking towards the sky for quite some time now, sitting under the tree with the person he adored most.

you were so strong, so sure of your actions-

and sometimes you felt insecure and the worry seemed to consume you. he understood it, he understood your fear of failure and the future that would follow.

that's why he had no problems consoling you when you needed it most, taking his time to sit with you in silence. words weren't needed in these times, only the comfort of his presence.

he allowed himself to glance down at you, feeling the tender touches of your fingers on his. you were strong, he didn't doubt that, but your body felt so fragile compared to his own.

the difference in the size of your hands proved it to him every single time. he knew you could protect yourself, but if you couldn't, he would be there for you.

"i think i'm feeling better." you said, your eyes finally focusing on his face instead of his hands. you had been touching and playing with his fingers for quite some time now, your hold on them decreasing.

"ya sure? you still look down." he answered, earning a hesitant nod from you. feeling your hand let go of him made him act, bringing his own hand up to the back of your head.

"i don't believe it and lying is not flashy in my eyes. let's stay a bit longer." you were quite surprised when he pressed your head against his chest, looking up at the sky again.

somehow he always knew what you needed, even when you didn't admit it. and with a gentle smile, as well as his hand running through your hair, you sunk into a deep slumber.

Obanai:

• who is surprised when he found out you were fascinated by his hands.

• someone like you adoring a feature of his? the mere thought made him blush when he was laying awake at night.

• who enjoys holding your hand just as much as you, often turning into a blushing mess.

he knew he wasn't as strong as most other hashira. he was smaller, physically weaker. of course it gave him one or two advantages, like a flexibility the tall males around him could only dream about.

yet he secretly found himself craving their strength - at least a part of it. he wouldn't complain about a bit more arm strength, but that would remain a dream of his.

the moment he found himself content with the lack of strength he possessed clearly came with you. you had been sitting next to each other, simply enjoying the time you could spend together. at least that was what he was doing, your mind had long drifted away.

he tensed up when he felt your fingers brush over his, holding his hand. your thumb brushed over his knuckles comfortingly.

he didn't dare look at you, only turning towards you when he felt you glancing, uncertainty rising inside you with his current expression. his hand reached out to you when he felt you pull away.

"i shouldn't have done that, i'm sorry." you said, trying to escape any rising feeling of shame. you just didn't expect him to hold your hand tighter.

"don't stop." he answered, his tone letting it appear much more like a quiet plead. surprise overtook you, quickly replaced by a comforting shyness.

your fingers interlocked with his once more, this time with switched positions. you felt goosebumps appear on your skin, your cheeks heating up.

"your hands are soft, [name].."

Rengoku:

• whether it's in public or at home, he enjoys holding your hand just as much as you like holding his

• however, one attractive thing he does is taking your hand after overstimulating you

"honey.." he pants, trying not to cum a second time from the way you were squeezing around him, body basically trying to milk him even in your current state.

it had started a few hours ago, when he came home from a long mission. he had missed you during his time in the snowy mountains, deciding that his arrival would be the perfect moment to show you how much he appreciates your body.

having to cum multiple times - first his fingers, then his tongue and now his cock - was just too much for your poor body.

of course Rengoku realized that, seeing you shake and tremble under him, small tears running down your flushed cheeks. you were still caught up in your orgasm, trying to even out your breathing pattern.

"it's okay, we're done. breathe, little flame." he panted, hands letting go of the sheets of your shared bed, sitting upright and looking down at you.

he didn't pull out, simply admiring your panting form laying on the bed. his hands snaked along your arms, holding your hands and pressing them into the matress.

feeling the warmth of his palm press against yours got your attention, a silent moan leaving your lips. "are you okay?" the question made you nod quietly, finally being able to register the world around you again.

"'m so sore.." you mumbled, watching the man above you laugh, squeezing your hands in response.

Sanemi:

• he absolutely loves it

• you clearly developed a liking to your hand and he's fully using that to fluster you

• taking you by surprise is his favorite

you've been standing in the kitchen, making sure all the medical herbs you've received were in their right place. you needed to make sure they're easily accessible when Sanemi came home injured.

in your concentrated state, you didn't notice the tall man approaching you slowly - lurking like a predator.

and then you shriek, feeling a slap land on your ass. out of reflex you leaned forward, your head quickly turning around to find Sanemi right behind you.

"missed me?" he teased, stepping closer until he was right behind you, hands placed on the counter on either side of you. he pressed his body against yours with a smirk, resulting in your face getting a lot warmer than before.

"Sanemi! you always do this!" you scolded him, trying to turn around from the sheer embarrassment you just faced or rather the excitement that pooled in your body.

"what can i say? can't resist you with a fine ass like that." he chuckled, letting go of the counter to squeeze your behind with his calloused fingers, earning a whine from you.

"and truthfully, i think you can't resist me either." hearing him whisper into your ear, hand traveling up your side, made you stare at the watch.

he was right, you couldn't resist him, nor could he resist you. besides, the herbs could wait for a while.

Giyuu:

• initially he was the one that liked holding your hands, it was the most simple form of physical touch he could come up with

• still a touch-starved man, WILL have his hands on you the whole time when you're making love.

• knows it gets you more exited, wouldn't judge you for it either, since he gets just as exited when he sees you

"Oh~ baby.." he gasped, head resting against the headboard of your bed. he watched you lazily bounce up and down his cock, trying to work yourself into ecstacy.

whenever you were sharing such passionate moments with each other, he could feel his fingers twitch with the need to hold onto your body - onto you.

they first slid up your thighs, holding onto your hips, guiding you to grind back against him. he loved the feeling of your warmth and he loved the reactions his hands could coax out of you.

he didn't miss out on the way your lips opened in a silent cry, begging to feel his hands run over your body, around your neck or anything else that allowed you to feel them.

and of course he'll answer.

"hold.. hold my hands.. i want to feel you.." he moans, letting go of your hips only to intertwine his fingers with yours, feeling your hips stutter.

he certainly knew how to exploit your weakness for his hands - especially since he was just as weak for you.

Gyomei:

• likes using his hands to calm you down

• they're like a security rope connecting the two of you when the situation makes uncertainty rise within you

"my dearest child, are you ready to serve as a hashira?" the soothing voice of master Kagaya usually managed to calm you down, but not today.

you sat in front of him, a private meeting being held between the two of you and a pillar of choice. naturally, you went with the one you trusted most - the stone pillar.

it would've been an honor to serve as a hashira, every demon slayer knew that, but being confronted with the choice of being one, you found yourself unsure.

the pillars were the strongest humans you had ever set your eyes on, you weren't sure if you could stand by their side.

lowering your head in shame, you were ready to decline the master's offer. however, you were stopped by the blind man next to you.

he placed a large hand on your back, the warmth seeping into your skin slowly calming you down, letting you think properly.

you weren't chosen without a reason, if the master wanted you to become a hashira, he trusted in your talent.

swallowing down your uncertainty, you nodded with little to no hesitance. "i'm ready."

next to you, still his hand on your back, Gyomei found himself smiling. if it was his presence you needed to make a decision, he'd gladly do this for you everytime.

[gravegoer]

i need royal blood part 2 pleasssseee UAGUHDUAHD

Royal Blood — 🜲

i personally love this AU and i hope you guys do too.. for some ODD reason i havent gotten many asks about it but here u guys go summary: sevika helps u get ready for your ball, and a little jealousy

masterlist , part 1

It had been around a week since the night Sevika basically cradled you to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't see her around much, feeling a bit lonelier without her presence to keep you company.

It's possible she felt guilty for having her hands all over the princess, thinking it's not her place. But in reality, she was just trying her best to resist you. She kept herself busy with mundane and useless tasks, but still hovering close enough to keep an eye on you.

And your plans for her didn't make it much easier for her to hold back.

During the week that your parents were absent on a trip, they had reluctantly allowed you to host a ball. Seeing as this was the perfect way to prove to your parents that you were capable of being responsible you had to insure everything went as planned.

You had your butler customize invitations and send them to a select few noble families. Even though you would have much rather invited your average friends, ruckus had to be avoided, and your friends would most likely cause more trouble than they intend.

Now it was the morning of the big day, despite your mind being set on Sevika the whole morning you had managed to pull yourself out of bed, still in your nightgown, and go downstairs.

As always breakfast was waiting for you on the table, you internally thanked the chef as you dug into your meal, savoring the flavors. The large window in front of you showcased the front of your castle, Sevika stood outside, simply watching passerbyers as if suspecting each and every one.

You laughed to yourself at how seriously she took her job, wondering what was on her mind. You set your plate aside and strode to the double doors to take a breath of fresh air (talk to Sevika).

You emerged, and the cold stone of the stairs nipped at your bare feet. She shot you a questioning look before you spoke, “So.. the ball is today”

“I know, i'll be on guard duty.”

You scoffed at her seriousness, “Really? This is my big day, and you aren't even going to show up. You've been cold this week.”

She sighed and her shoulders seemed to slump a bit, “Apologies, is there anything you want?”

“Yes!” You groaned, “Just— can you at least help me get ready tonight?”

She cocked an eyebrow at your question, “Isn’t that what your personal maid is for?”

“Well– I need help picking something to wear, and my maid is supposed to be bias. She will like anything i do, and you’d tell me the truth right?”

Sevika nodded, giving in a bit.

“Great! I admire your honesty, truely. Join me in my quarters tonight at 6:00.”

Before she could protest you were stepping back inside all giddy. It seemed you would finally get some time to yourself with Sevika. I mean she couldn't deny an order, Right?

..

Right.

Sevika showed up to your door at exactly 6:00 PM, punctual as always. You greeted her with a smile, now changed into a different stay-at-home outfit. You had been lounging around your room for most of the day while waiting for Sevika to arrive.

The balcony door in your room was open, and there were books strewn about your bed. She shook her head at your carelessness and walked over to the balcony, pulling the door shut.

“You know anyone could come in through there right?” She stated sternly.

“To my balcony on the second floor?” You laughed, "Whatever you say, I guess you're the boss around here."

She let out a small laugh that could be mistaken for a scoff and turned to your quite large closet, motioning for you to open it. You pulled the doors open to reveal your plethora of dresses and other garments. Sevika sighed at the fullness as you started to push around the dresses, looking for a color you liked.

After some time, you held up two dresses, and Sevika cringed at them, “That one isn’t fit for a ball, and that one is just—” You groaned, interrupting her.

“You said you were looking for honest, not biased.”

Shaking your head you dove back into the clothes, hands emerging with a beautifully embroidered dress, and another that was similar in style with a low V neckline. Sevika looked contemplative for a moment before motioning to the changing divider, “Try them on for me.”

You crossed your arms, “Well, I cant put them on myself, I need help with the corset.”

You said this like it was common sense, but Sevika looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to ask for something like that from her. She grabbed the corset that was on the ground and the second dress from your hand, “Okay, lets get this over with.”

..

"Fuck, Sevika its too tight," you grunted, hands gripping onto the back of a wooden chair.

Sevika had a knee between your legs, roughly pulling at the strings of a white corset. You were just about to be pulled back by her strength if it wasn't for her leg holding you in place.

"Why the fuck would you put yourself through this," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

You yelped in response, and she finally opted to finish tugging and tied it diligently in the back. Breathing a sigh of relief, you slumped forward on the chair, pushing further into Sevikas leg.

Her hands found your waist before she teasingly asked, "Tight enough?"

You nodded, somewhat annoyed with her sarcastic tone, and grabbed the dress that was on the seat of the chair. Sevika backed up and looked away to try and give you even an ounce of privacy as you tugged it over your head.

The dress hugged your curves in the torso and fell around your legs perfectly, with not too much poof and just enough embroidery. It touched the floor and covered your feet, trailing elegantly with you.

Sevika almost gawked at the sight, most definitely eyeing the V neck of the dress. She was glad she picked it.

"You look ready for a ball," she smirked.

"Aww, that's all you have to say?" You giggled, twirling around.

The small twinkle in your eye made her swoon, and she laid a hand on your waist, "You look beautiful, princess."

You smiled at her action, feeling the gentleness from that night return. It's like you broke down her walls in a second, with nothing but a mere look. You all but pried her hand from your waist, flitting over to your vanity.

Grabbing a clip and a comb, you motioned for Sevika to follow you.

"You know I can't do hair, don't push your luck with me. The corset was as far as I'll go," she crossed her arms as if she were putting a foot down.

"No, silly, let me do yours. If you won't dress up for my ball, this is the least you can do," You giggled, pushing her down into your plush vanity stool.

It creaked under her weight, and she sighed but made no further protests. You could see her eyeing you in the mirror, having little faith in your ability. But you just smiled and got to work.

Taking her small bun out, you brushed the small knots and tangles out of her dark hair. It was soft and shiny between your fingers. You admired the deep smell of her shampoo mixed in with her natural scent.

Then, you pulled it up into the same half updo, but instead of tying it with a rubber, you inserted a silver clip in its place. The clip matched her metal arm perfectly, with just the slightest touch of regalness, to show it was yours.

You held a mirror to the back of her head, showing her your work so that she could view it from the mirror in front of her. "It's pretty right?"

Sevika squinted at it in the mirror, bringing a flesh hand up to touch it gently. "Yeah, too pretty for me."

You scoffed and pushed her head gently, "Nonsense, it's just right. As a matter of fact, keep it."

And this would be your first gift to her. The first among many.

She snorted, "I can't deny a gift from the princess"

Looking at the small clock on your vanity, it read: 7:12.

Fuck.

It started in less than 10 minutes. You hurriedly pulled Sevika out of your stool and checked your makeup and hair in the mirror. She smirked at your worriedness and silently held out an arm for you to take.

You turned around to her, eyeing her arm before gently wrapping your hands around it, looking at her to gauge a reaction. But she walked you to your doors, opening them for you with one hand.

You smiled, realizing her intentions, she was going to walk you out in front of all those people. I mean, it was appropriate, right? It's normal for your personal guard to walk you out, only a safety precaution.

..

Well atleast thats what you told yourself as Sevika walked you down the grand staircase right into the party. People gawked at the sight of their princess, admiring the sight of your beautiful dress, others were staring at something— or rather someone else.

Sevika contrasted your appearance greatly. She stood menacingly at your side, glaring at anyone that shot confused glances. Her rough scarred skin opposed the softness of your exposed flesh. Your delicately jeweled fingers were wrapped around her thick arm as she helped you maneuver down the carpeted stairs.

You let her arm go so that you could start greeting your guests. Your servents had put together a grand ball, tables of food and wine were placed intricately, decorated with jars of flowers and other miscellaneous things.

Women complemented your dress while you shook hands with their husbands, offering some wine or water. You were on your best behavior, making sure your guests would report back to your parents talking about how respectful and polite you were.

A tall woman with dark skin approached you, her white dress with gold accessories glimmered in your eyes. She was positively beautiful.

You introduced yourself, "Hello, im glad you could make it tonight. Your dress is striking."

She smiled kindly at your remark, "It's so nice to finally meet you, princess, let me introduce myself," She took your hand and brought it to her supple lips, "I am Mel Medarda."

Your cheeks flushed, "Well, it's a pleasure."

When you finished the pleasantries, you turned to see Sevika glaring at you and Mel from her position in front of the door, taking over for one of the guards. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you made your way to the other side of the room. After swerving through groups of people, avoiding small talk and sending small waves, you finally got to her.

She watched you the whole way over, but decided to look away the second you approached her. Tapping on her arm you cleared your throat, "Ahem, your princess would like a word with you."

She raised her eyebrow, turning her gaze back to you, "Its not appropriate for the princess to be speaking to a worker during an event."

You laughed off her coldness, "Why are you looking at me so intensely then," You started circling her like a predator to its prey, "You wanted my attention?"

She smirked at your playfulness but shook her head, "Just seeing you interact with others is.. odd."

"Jealous?" You teased, knowing she most likely only thought this because she always saw you cooped up at home.

But to your suprise, her stern demeanor fumbled a bit, brows furrowing and eyes widening.

"No. Get back to your duties, we've been speaking for too long, people are staring."

If she wouldn't admit it, you'd make her.

i do plan on making a part 3 ! but im going to be working on some shorter fics + hcs so i have time to release the beauty and the beast fic :)

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @archangeldyke-all

comment or ask to be added <33

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to you being bullied in the past/highschool

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

tw: this one holds a lot of mentions of verbal bullying and cyberbullying - it's something very close to home for me and this fic will be for anyone who has experienced the same thing. remember that you are strong and the harsh words don't define you! i love you and stay safe <33

he can feel his blood boiling the moment you comment on your past experiences with bullies. seungcheol prides himself to be a level-headed type of guy, but the thought of you getting hurt - even in the past - strikes a chord deep inside of him. he's thinking about buying a plane ticket to your hometown just to find those fuckers and bury them six feet under. however, he's mature enough to know that violence never solves anything, opting to show you even more love than before (if that's even possible) to remind you that you are worth everything in the world.

jeonghan's mind is already whirring overtime the moment he finds out about your past. using his scary, evil, mastermind brain for good this time, he can't help but envision decking the people who've hurt you. doesn't mind listening to you as you rant, knowing that you need a silent supporter by your side. will never tell you about how he sees red just thinking about your so-called "friends" who made you feel so horrible about yourself.

joshua can feel his heart crack with each name you tell him you've been called. takes the time to reassure you that you are none of those horrible things, that you're kind and beautiful and so so so smart. traces his finger across every scar and imperfection you've been bullied over, whispering how much he loves you. doesn't mind giving your bullies the nastiest side-eye the next time he sees them.

although he's doing his best to be present as you tell him about your past, jun is internally screaming at himself because you. are. crying. it's like he malfunctions every time it happens, hating how sad and scared you look. despite his panic, he's awfully calm when he comforts you, explaining to you that no, you are not weak because of this. in fact, you're much much stronger.

soonyoung's somehow found himself perched on top of a chair, his body steaming with anger, holding too much rage to sit still. you can tell he's struggling to hold back the foulest curse words, knowing that he should at least let you finish your rant. the moment you're done however, he's cursing them, their mother, their partner, anyone he can get his metaphorical hands on. it's okay baby. he'd tell you once he's calmed down. they're probably failing in life. but look at you! you're successful and beautiful and you're dating me!

wonwoo's asking you questions in a way that makes you fear for what he's about to do. what's their address? social media? social security number? you have to physically sit him down and remind him that the bullying happened years ago in highschool and that there was no point in trying to get revenge now. he's visibly deflated by the news, but decides to just dote on you even more to prove to you that their awful words were wrong. i'm no good with words, but i'll show you how fucking stupid they were to hurt you.

jihoon doesn't really know what to say when you tell him. he only thanks you for feeling brave enough to share such a painful part of you with him, feeling happy you trust him enough to do so. neither one of you revisits the topic: until one day, you see a suspicious amount of rageful revenge lyrics and comfort lyrics in seventeen's new releases. i guess we can credit the making of Hug to that instance.

minghao's glad he meditated last night because what you just told him would have definitely set him off without it. he doesn't hesitate to hold you, asking you if you need anything from him. i'm so proud of you for surviving all that, my love. they were obviously blind and didn't see your worth. and i'm sorry you thought they were your friends. he makes it clear that he's here for you, whenever you need to talk about it again.

seokmin more than upset when you're finished telling him everything- he's confused. he doesn't understand why anyone would want to hurt you, let alone say all those nasty things and pretend to be your friend. he apologizes for crying, trying to laugh it off by saying idk why i'm crying so hard, it didn't even happen to me but i'm the one sobbing like a baby. promises you that he's never leaving your side and you don't have to ever worry about him turning on you like your friends did in highschool.

all mingyu can think about as he listens is that he could have made it all better if he had just been there. he tells you while gently wiping away your tears that he would've traded places with you in an instant. i wish we'd met when we were younger, love. i would have fought them all back. but most of all, he wishes he was there to protect the younger you, knowing a child didn't deserve all that.

although you're doing a great job already, seungkwan can't help but join in on dissing your bullies and so-called "friends." he nods along enthusiastically every time you throw an insult, preferring always to laugh about it instead of cry. he's hyping you up, agreeing with everything you say as you recount your highschool days. yeah, no she sounds like a bitch. i bet he couldn't even read a chapter book. bro probably stank, you were safer without him. she's sounding like one of those insane kdrama rich ladies - and not the hot ones.

vernon's quietly listening, storing away every single piece of information for the next time you guys return to your hometown. he's already preparing his plethora of insults and backhanded digs, ready to show them a taste of their own medicine. he quietly tells you that he can relate - school had never been kind to him either - and he somehow spins all your shared trauma into something beautiful. we were meant to be, he says, cause you healed me, and now i can heal you. his words make you smile through the tears - and you fucking love him for that.

chan's at a loss for words once you're finished telling him everything. he's overwhelmed by the sheer amount of harsh words and sickening moments, knowing that if he felt this bad just hearing about it, he couldn't imagine how you felt going through it all. you're much braver than i would have been, is all he says after a pause. i love you. chan might be a man of few words, but he knows just what to say.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Theory of Gravity

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Making small talk can be difficult with a crush.

Word Count: 1234

Genre: Fluff Oneshot

Content: Drinking, reader being awkward because she has a crush, flirting

Contrary to popular belief, snitching on the whereabouts of a very dangerous mobster in the bar you worked in and possibly getting killed or maimed in the process was not a good plan for a Friday night but to be completely honest, you had done worse things over a silly little crush.

Like back in college freshman year when you pretended to be into music biopics just so that the hot guy in your elective would think you two were meant to be.

So if anything, this was a pattern.

“Logan?” you said as you put his drink in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“What was Galileo like?”

He blinked a couple of times, the familiar scowl that seemed to be etched on his handsome face getting deeper and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said. “I will lose all the belief I’ve never had in the first place in this country’s education system if you’re serious.”

You gave him a bright smile. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I figured it was better than asking how the public took it when Newton came up with the theory of gravity.”  

The look on his face couldn’t be described with anything but complete horror and you let out a laugh, then went to serve another customer before quickly making your way to him.

“I’m just messing with you,” you said, leaning against the bar as you stole a look at the mobster sitting by the table with his men, then to Wade who was very, very busy with Vanessa by the corner.

“You look nervous,” Logan pointed out, making your head whip up before you cleared your throat.

“Nah, not at all,” you said. “I’m just thinking that if I die tonight, I’ll die doing what I love.”

“Which is?”

Gazing at older men who couldn’t look less interested in me.

“Being surrounded by drunk people who want to give me money,” you said. “Not a bad way to go.”

He scoffed into his drink before taking a sip while you nibbled on your lip, shifting your weight.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said, his voice gruff. “We’re just waiting for his partner to show up, then we will deal with them both.”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. Sure, I know.”

“Do you?”

You nodded again, absentmindedly reaching out to play with the cocktail straw on the counter, painfully aware of his gaze on you that made your face burn.

“How’s grad school?”

…He remembered.

He remembered you saying that the last time he and Wade were here.

One simple observer would’ve thought he was on his knees proclaiming his undying love for you with the way your heartbeat went insane and his eyebrows rose as if he could hear it, but you quickly casted the thought away from your mind; that was surely impossible.

“Oh it’s going well!” you said, your voice going high-pitched for a moment. “Came for the hot professors, stayed for the education—I’m joking,” you added in a haste, waving a hand in the air. “I’m a very…very deep and intellectual individual.”

“Uh huh.”

“And none of my professors are hot,” you muttered and wiped at the damp spot on the counter with a napkin. “They should put that on the brochure if you ask me, it’s important information.”

“So you’ll be a doctor?”

“If by some miracle my dissertation goes through the jury,” you pointed out. “How about you? How’s your roommate situation with Wade going?”

He only grumbled something under his breath and you bit back a smile, then topped his drink.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

If there was one thing you hated the idea of more than dying was proving Freud right but it looked like you were going two for two tonight.

“So uh,” you said, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms because of his deep voice. “Hey, at least you have the place to yourself sometimes, no? When Wade is with Vanessa? Should give you some time to…bring someone home.”

And I volunteer as tribute.

He raised his brows, his unwavering gaze pinning you to your spot and you cleared your throat.

“Or—or someones,” you stammered. “Sky is the limit if you’re into that sort of thing. Now that it came up by the way, are…are you?”

“Am I bringing people home?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure that was what you were asking and you shrugged your shoulders, your face on fire.

“I’m just asking because, you know,” you began the sentence without having a clue on how you would finish it as usual. “I’m great at giving relationship advice, so if you were in a relationship I could be your own personal relationship coach.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion and you reached out to get the bowl full of peanut shells from his right just so that you could keep yourself busy, then turned the bowl over the garbage can.

“I’m not,” he said and you swallowed thickly.

“Who has the time for that these days, am I right?”

“Do you have—”

“Yes I have the time!” you cut him off, nodding your head in enthusiasm, your heart beating in your ears but he had already finished his sentence;

“…ice?”

You hoped to God tonight was the night you’d die because if that mobster in the corner didn’t shoot you, you were going to have to ask Wade to do it just to save you from this embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said after a beat as he stared at you. “Yeah—yeah I have ice, sorry.”

You rushed to get some ice and put it into his whiskey, biting inside your cheek and he cleared his throat.

“You don’t want to go out with me sweetheart.”

Well good news was that you had already made a fool of yourself so one could think the bar for your self-respect couldn’t get any lower, but boy oh boy you had already brought your metaphorical shovel.  

“I disagree,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I would very much love to if you were interested.”

“You think I’m not interested?”

“I feel like I’d have a better chance at proving you’re not interested with dates and references than my own thesis,” you pointed out. “And that’s saying something—”

“I am interested,” he cut you off, making your eyes widen and you gawked at him, frozen in your spot. “Trust me, that’s not the problem here.”

“Am I getting the I’m too dangerous for you speech?” you heard yourself ask through disbelief. “Because screw that speech. Honestly, the only thing I’m focused on in here is if you—fuck!”

He pulled his brows together. “If I—?”

“No no!” you said as you pointed at the back door where two men were dragging Wade through. “Wade!”

Logan cussed under his breath as he shot up from his stool.

“Don’t go anywhere, we’ll talk about this later,” he told you and made his way to the back door while you heaved a sigh, leaning back to the counter as he stepped outside and you caught the sight of him grabbing a man by the neck before the door slammed shut. You pressed a hand over your chest, then tilted your head back with a groan.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “That was smooth.”

[bedoballoons]

Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}

I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}

CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.

He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.

So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..

He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.

"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.

𑁍༄Venti:

"I actually do have feelings for someone."

The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"

A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"

The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.

"Enough."

You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.

Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"

𑁍༄Aether:

Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.

He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.

Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.

Just. You.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[azrielbrainrot]

Baby, You Know That I Miss You

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.

Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”

You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.

Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.

If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.

The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”

“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.

“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”

“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.

“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.

“Do what, princess?”

“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”

Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.

“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”

“Try what?”

“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.

Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.

“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”

You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.

“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.

“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”

If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.

“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”

“Azriel-”

“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”

A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.

“Done?”

“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.

“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”

“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.

“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”

“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.

“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”

“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”

Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.

“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”

The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.

“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”

“Azriel, I'm-”

“Close?”

“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.

“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.

Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.

“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”

“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[luveline]

Hi luveline! I have a request: in a busy night at the restaurant reader cuts or burns herself and gets overwhelmed and carmen patches her up and calms her down 👉🏻👈🏻 pretty please I loveee your hurt/comfort fics <3

—Carmy looks after you and your burned wrist. fem, 1.2k

Carmy thought he had bad nerves. 

You julienne onion at your station, ready to garnish their miniature French onion hot pots, your hand coming down slightly too hard. You’ve positioned the knife wrong in panic, thumb too far down the blade and claw of your other hand loosely tucked. You’re getting too stressed, and you’re going to get hurt. 

He has too much to do, but not too much to call for your attention across the cutting boards. “Hey, hey,” he insists. You look up. “Slowly and surely. Thumb against the line of the blade, like this.” 

He shows you the proper grip. 

“I know how to do it,” you say, frowning. 

“Just calm down.”

“You’re never calm.” 

Carmy can actually be extremely calm, and especially when he cooks, but nobody at The Bear has true reason to believe him. He has yet to prove himself properly after his in-fridge meltdown. Maybe he can’t. 

But tonight is busy, not make or break. 

“Seriously,” he says, smirking because he knows you hate it, “take it slow. Well, slower. Check your grip and keep going.” 

“Carmy, can you fuck off and let me cut these?” you ask. Clearly, your associates are rubbing off on you. 

Richie chimes in, his official, nothing-but-business intonation in play, “Carmy, can you fuck off, please?” 

Carmy doesn’t need to raise his voice. “Fuck you.” 

“Fuck you, Carmen. Twelve, walking in five. Hands? We’ve gotta pick up some bucatini...” 

Richie’s getting pretty confident in the back of house. Carmy’s happy for him, even if they aren’t speaking outside of the kitchen. 

He’s about to swing around Daniela to help her on the stove when you burst forward toward it and take the reins. Your prep station is cleaned and your onions set aside; he can’t believe how quickly you’re moving, and he saw that chef who was taking questionable substances fuck up a carton of carrots in a good two minutes. Dude was fast. 

He wants to say Baby, slow down, and he wants to examine how awkward ‘baby’ might be if he said it. He can’t think of another pet name that could garner success. Honey’s too old (though maybe, said with softness–), sweetheart too sweet. Doll is for uncles and bub sounds like it’s missing a syllable when he says it. Honestly, Carmy’s just desperate to call you something nice and have you listen, for once. 

You grab a pan from Daniela’s hand. “I got it,” you tell her, not without sympathy. “We can do one each.” 

“Thank you, can you–”

“Daniela, I need those lobster claws now. I’m serious,” Sydney interrupts, giving Daniela a rightfully impatient look. “I needed them five minutes ago.” 

Daniela winces. Sydney waits. You, unbeknownst to everybody except Carmy, attempt to clean a smudge from the hot stove top for no good reason —Carmy could scream at you. He nearly does.

“Can you fucking stop?” he bites. 

Sydney looks at him likes he’s grown a third head, but her reaction, while unfortunate and rather important considering their partnership, is the least of his worries. You flinch at his sudden rough tone and pull your hand back from the smudge, sleeves rolled and clean, skin of your wrist naked and waiting to be branded as you catch it on the side of your hot pan. 

Your yelp is immediate. 

“Fucking– Carmy!” Sydney says. 

He’s not sure why he’s being shouted at. Maybe because he abandons the line at a time where doing so guarantees a ripple effect. 

You’re freaking out. Carmy slides in beside you to encourage the pan off of the heat while you’re unable to tend it. “Daniela?” he says, loud and clipped. 

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re wide-eyed and lying, it isn’t okay, the burn mark is a squeamish pink stripe against your skin and you're already crying. 

Carmy takes your elbow. He wants to yank you to the cold faucet, but he’s measured enough. He has an encyclopaedia of kitchen safety. 

He’s burned himself enough times. “Come here,” he says, though you’re coming anyway, wincing as he leads you to the back of the kitchen by the sink. He stoppers it and starts the cold tap, where he pauses. “It’s gonna sting.” 

“It already stings.” 

Carmy guides your arm under the stream. 

He turns the faucet until it’s a fast running spray and encourages you to lean down to submerge the entirety of the burn in cold water. Your sleeve gets wet. He pushes it up. 

“Carm, it’s fine.” 

He shakes his head to readjust your arm. His hand is tender, but his fingers are trembling. 

“Carmen,” you say firmly, quietly, “it’s okay.” 

He realises suddenly that he’s not breathing. He lets out a breath, pulls another fast one in, and snaps the fuck out of it. “It’s okay,” he repeats, “the cold waters gonna draw out the heat. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” 

“I have to go back–”

“No.” His and Syd’s kitchen will never prioritise the food over injury. “I’m gonna get the first aid kit, I’m gonna dress it. But you have to stay here for thirty minutes with your hand in the water.” 

“A half hour, are you kidding?” 

“Do I sound like I am?” he asks genuinely, not pissed nor bossy, fighting a tendency to be both. 

“We’re right at the crest of the rush–”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t prioritise the restaurant over yourself. It’ll fuck you up.” He feels the cold on his hand where he holds yours in the water, watches the water rise to the overflow. “Does it hurt?” He turns your hand to see the burn in better detail. “It’ll blister for sure. You’re gonna have to look after it.” 

You wipe the drying tears from your cheek. It was a stupid question. “Yeah, it hurts. Fuck, it was so hot.” 

“That’s why I told you to calm down.” 

“I know that. Thanks.” 

He doesn’t know if you’re sarcastic or genuine, can’t tell if you’re hurting or pissed at his instruction. You shiver when he lets your wrist go, but you keep the burn submerged, the faucet squeaking as he wrestles it off again. 

“Maybe we could both try calming down,” you suggest. 

“Maybe.” He squeezes his eyes shut quickly. When he opens them, you’re still squinting in your own pain. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll be right back.” 

He pats your shoulder gently. His hand gets stuck to you, massaging tenderly at your shoulder and down your upper arm, your faces closer than they reasonably need to be. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

Your cheek tilts down toward his hand where it holds you, but you don’t let it fall. “I’ll be fine. I am fine. It’s just… busy.” 

“I know.” 

“Never burned myself like that.” 

Carmy has, but you could guess that. “It’s fine. I know how to look after it.” Look after you. 

His hand crests your shoulder. You let your cheek touch briefly to the back of it. “Okay,” you murmur. 

Yeah, he’s fucked. The first aid kit can’t fix what’s wrong with him. 

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Show Me

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Cockwarming, Overstimulation, Oral, Throat Fucking, Handcuffs

part 2

F1 Masterlist

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The music in the club is blaring so loud you can’t hear your own thoughts. My hips swayed to the music as I felt an arm snake around my waist. Turning around I see the man that I’ve been entertaining the whole night, Lewis.

“Finally, I was starting to think you bailed on me” I chuckled as I gratefully took the alcoholic beverage he brought me “Thank you Lewis” I smile as I take a sip of the drink

“And leave you here alone with these pervs?” Lewis chuckled before placing his once preoccupied hand on my hips “You wouldn’t catch me dead leaving you here alone” the one free hand I had reaching up to snake around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

The eye contact we held said all the other needed to know “I can see it in your eyes, you want a good time” Lewis said just loud enough above the music for me to hear but not anyone else, leaning closer to me, his lips almost touching mine “You wanna put your body on mine. Alright but don't change your mind, don’t you change it”

The gap between us is so dangerously small that I can smell the alcohol on his breath and it’s intoxicating me in the best way possible. I can see Lewis’ gaze flicker between my eyes and my lips “Your eyes saying please me but your lips care to ask”

I want to kiss him so bad. I don’t know if it’s the look in his eyes, the words coming out of his mouth, how plump his lips look or the alcohol in my system.

“No need to fight it when you know it feels right. You say you're a woman who knows what she likes” The hand he had resting on my hip moved up to the back of my neck pulling me closer to him but only to kiss the corner of my mouth. He then starts to leave some kisses on my jaw before whispering in my ear “Then show me”

———————————————————————

“C’mon baby, I know you can take it. Don’t give up on me just yet,” I couldn’t think, Lewis had just pulled my second orgasm out of me tonight and my thighs haven’t stopped shaking since the first one. “my baby, I haven’t even tasted you yet, I’ve just made you cum twice with my fingers.”

I didn’t think it was possible to shake this much from only having two orgasms from someone’s hands alone but Lewis always made it a mission to prove me wrong.

“You look so pretty right now, look s’good for me just sprawled out. I need a taste” a mixture of incoherent words and moans spills from my lips as I know that Lewis isn’t gonna stop until he pulls at least two more orgasms from me with just his tongue alone.

The way Lewis trails kisses down my neck to my core was heavenly, I didn’t have time to prepare myself as I watched him lower himself between my legs before I felt his mouth attack my clit. A gasp escapes my lips as jolt forward and my thighs instinctively close around his head.

Instead of prying my legs open, Lewis used both his arms and wrapped them around my legs that we’re currently trapping him to ensure he couldn’t stop, not that he wanted to, before absolutely going to town eating me out.

He drew long strides of his tongue all the way up and down my slit before sucking on my clit, I’m pretty sure a few times I felt his tongue enter me which caused my hands to find their place in his hair, pushing him further down causing him to let out a deep groan, which was all it took before my thighs that were already trapping him to squeeze as my third orgasm overtook my body.

Lewis lapped my juices before he loosens his grip on my legs, looking up at me with dark, lust filled eyes and a glistening chin as he crawled his way up to me placing a chaste kiss to my lips allowing me to taste myself on him. Without breaking the kiss, Lewis starts to take off his sweatpants and boxers.

"Lew, please I can't do no more right now" I mumble, breaking the kiss.

"Shh, its okay. I'll take care of you, j's need you to sit on my cock okay? Can you do that for me or do you really want to stop?" just when I thought I couldn't fall more in love with Lewis, he pulls this card.

I press my lips to his in a kiss of pure adoration “Mmhmm, I need your cock Lew, please”

“that’s my good girl, c’mere” his calloused hands finding their place on my hips as he pulls me onto his lap, giving his cock a few strokes before lining himself up with my entrance allowing me to sink down on him.

Lewis is fairly big so he’s patient with me as I take him inch by inch until he’s fully bottomed out and allowing me to adjust to his size. Right when I was comfortable enough to start bouncing and I lifted my hips one of Lewis’ hands that were still resting on my hips tightened and pulled me right back down

“Nuh uh baby, you’re just gonna sit here and we’re gonna talk” his hands now drawing imaginary circles on my hips “how’s your day been pretty?” a small smirk appears on his face. Bastard, he knew what he was doing and he was enjoying it.

A whimper escaped my lips as my core ached for friction. In a pathetic attempt of getting lewis to break and fuck me, I clenched down on his cock and I smile to myself as I hear a low guttural moan from him

“Please Lew, I need to move. I need to feel you moving inside me, I need th-this. please please” I’ve never begged for anything in my life the way I’m begging for Lewis to move his cock in me. Who could blame me? I can feel every ridge and vein of his cock, I started squeezing around him so hard that I swear I felt the blood continue flowing through his veins when I stopped clenching. I was so caught up in relishing the feeling of his cock buried deep inside me that I didn’t even notice Lewis was talking to me, not at least until I felt a firm hand on my jaw and another gently slap my cheek a few times.

“Oh has my baby gone dumb on me? I’m asking you a question but I bet all you’re thinking about is how my cock is buried so deep inside you that if I came right now, I’d guarantee putting a baby in you.” I couldn’t take it anymore, against my better judgment I started rocking my hips. Something about the way Lewis was talking to me like I’d had no brain cells did something to me and I was determined to get not only him to cum but me to come again for the fourth time tonight.

Lewis’ head fell back in pure bliss as the hands that were planted on my hips started helping me move, it didn’t last long as Lewis came back to his senses quickly halting my movements. “Now, I didn’t tell you that you could move did I?” Silence. “I asked you a question darling. Answer me or I cut this night short.” the words escaped my mouth, I wanted to respond. I really did, but I couldn’t form words and that upset Lewis.

“Oh well, I had a fun night planned for us but since you can’t follow simple instructions,” Lewis lifted me off his hips, letting out a small hiss at the sudden loss of contact “I guess my plans with you have gone to waste” all the words that escaped me a second ago now flooding back to me.

“No, please Lew. I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I’ll obey you, I really need your cock, I need you to make me cum again.” I could tell that my words were getting to him but not quite enough for him to forgive me.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve given you many chances now I think it’s just appropriate to make you watch as I pleasure myself and leave you high and dry” my thighs clench at the thought of Lewis making me watch as he touches himself and that did not go unnoticed by him “Oh but you’d like that would you? I wouldn’t have taken you as a dirty slut but I’m not complaining”

The threat of touching himself as I watched unable to do anything was no longer a threat as I watched Lewis get off his bed and walk over to the bedside table pulling out two pairs of black fluffy handcuffs making his way over to me as he opens the cuffs.

“sit up against the headboard.” he ordered, sending a gush of wetness between my thighs. I comply knowing I shouldn’t push his buttons more unless I want this night to really end.

As I say against the headboard I watch Lewis intensely as he grabs my one wrist and cuffs it to the bed before climbing on the bed and almost straddling me as he cuffs my other hand to the bed. His cock was just dangling in front of my face so also against my better judgement I give it a kitten lick before placing a kiss on it. Once the cuffs clicked Lewis grabbed my face

“Disobeying me as I’m punishing you? You really don’t want me to take care of you tonight. No no, I think you want me to punish you all night into the morning.” his voice low and seductive

I tug my wrist against the headboard trying to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss but to no avail. I watch as Lewis sits opposite of me as he starts stroking his cock smearing the precum from his head using it as lube. He sets a slow pace as he moves his wrists, he’s not touching himself for pleasure right now. No, he’s touching himself because he knows I want to but can’t because of this punishment.

I bit my lower lip as I watched Lewis’ excruciatingly slow pace, I don’t know why it’s bothering me seeing as it’s not me he’s pleasuring. But that might just be it, he’s so perfect that he shouldn’t have to be pleasured at such a slow pace, he deserves to be worshipped, to have someone that he can use whenever he wants.

Lewis seemed to have taken notice of my thoughts “It’s getting to you right? Watching me touch myself so slow, knowing you would do the opposite?” a nod was all I could do “I need your words if you want your punishment to end soon.”

“Yes, yes it’s killing me Lew. I want to touch you, suck you, I want your cum, I want it all. I want everything you’re willing to give me.” it’s pathetic really, why is he the only man to have this effect on me? I’m a woman for crying out loud, I should be independent and not wasting my time on a man but something about Lewis made me throw all sense of womanhood away.

If this man told me to quit my job and be a stay at home wife like how it was in the 1950s, I would gladly quit my job right now.

“That’s my good dirty girl” as Lewis praised me for using my words, he sped up his strokes. I could tell by the way his face contorted that he was close. “Baby, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” the pace of his strokes told me he wouldn’t last long.

“in my mouth, I need to taste you”

That was all it took before lewis got on his knees and shoved his cock down my throat moving his cock in and out of my throat. As Lewis kept fucking my throat, he was close enough that I could barely touch him but I did anyway. His hips stuttered and with one final thrust he was shoving his cock so far down my throat as he came that my head was sliding to the side of the headboard but it have me better clearance to grip his hips pulling him deeper inside of my throat.

With shaky thighs Lewis pulled back and sat on my thighs as he watched me as I swallowed all of his cum like I said I would. The second Lewis sat down his semi limp cock gently grazed my clit a wave of euphoria came over me and I came. This time was different though, I squirted for like, the first time ever and it was all over Lewis.

“Oh baby, you’re in for a long night” Lewis said while he lapped up whatever he could from both of our stomachs before taking the handcuffs off “be prepared to not walk for a while”

—————

I REALLY WANNA CONTINUE BUT YA GIRL HAS A JOB AND I HAVE TO GET DRESSED AND LEAVE . LMK IF I SHOULD CONTINUE OR IF I SHOULD JS LEAVE IT.

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@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal

[sweetimpurity]

*ೃ༄ੈ✩ Day 2 woohoo! Miggy got me blushing in this one. enjoy my loves! cw: dirty talk wc: 1.6k. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- I might change the posting schedule so be on the lookout for that! But I’ll find the groove after the first few days! masterlist>>

“I knew that dress would be perfect on you…” Miguel says. Eyeing you across the table like he wants to eat you up right here and now. Clinks of silverware against porcelain and expensive glassware fill the restaurant, along with the soft hum of conversation, low warm chandeliers and candlelight. Date night as usual. This has become the new normal. This all started as a sort of transactional thing. You were his arm candy and he was your wallet. A big businessman CEO like him doesn’t have a ton of time to foster new deep relationships. But he’s made an effort to spend time with you. At least enough time to do you and deposit 10k in your bank account by the time you wake up. 

Truth is, he likes you a lot. More than he’s liked being around anyone else. It’s more than just sex and money but those do tend to be the most exciting parts of this relationship. And he’s a particular man. 

“I usually wouldn’t pick this color for myself but you have a good eye… I really love it, thank you.” You nod with a knowing smile, smoothing down the silky material over your lap. A dark sort of crimson maroon color. Very flattering. And he always loves you in red. “Hopefully you don’t bust the zipper open like last time…” 

You tease him, raising your brow his way and sipping your drink through the mini straw. He grins, loving that look in your eyes and remembering the most recent time he bought you a new dress and the state it was in after he was done with you. “Can you blame me? It was in the way…” He hums with a chuckle, making you laugh. Eyes meeting across the table. And you can feel the toe of his dress shoe press into your shin, rubbing down to the joint of your ankle. Breaking eye contact when it gets too flustering. 

“Are you wearing the other gift I bought you…?” He asks with that same annoying smirk on his face. Sipping his strong drink, the ice cube clinking around the glass. “...yesss…” You drawl softly, looking down at the table to avoid his eyes. A flush over your cheeks at the thought, and that his mind is already going there. “What color?” He asks. 

You look up. Cheeks beet red at his blunt question. The embarrassment rising in your chest and making your knees squeeze together under the table. “Uh… black…” You hum, looking down again. 

He loves this. The images searing into his mind of those panties he got you. In every color the store had. And you chose the black ones tonight. “You’re telling the truth?” He asks. His tone is soft and yet confronting, teasing. He wants to hear you say it. To watch you struggle to say the words. “Of course…” You whisper, looking up at him and wondering where his head is at now. 

“Prove it. Show me.” He says. Your eyes widening and heart beating. You’re in a high end five star restaurant and he wants what? “Show you? I can’t just lift my dress up…” You laugh nervously, looking around and feeling like everyone knows. That embarrassment sitting deep in your chest and making you flushed. Knowing your black panties must be sticky by now. 

“No, don't expose yourself in this restaurant full of people, baby…” He scoffs. Brow furrowing at your words and giving you a look as if that should have been obvious. The embarrassment persists. Of course that’s not what he meant. But what does he mean? “Take them off and show them to me. Then I’ll believe you…” He says. Your eyes blow wide again. 

The waiter comes over to refill your waters. Asking how the food is and exchanging simple pleasantries with Miguel. Miguel, who’s acting like everything is normal and nothing’s going on. Glancing around and wondering if anyone overheard the conversation. If they know you’re wet from hearing him talk to you like that. 

“Thank you…” Miguel smiles charmingly as the waiter walks again. Putting his focus back on you after. An expectant look on his face. “Well?” 

“Don’t look at me.” You whisper, willing to do what he asks but his gaze feels like a bright spotlight. “No, I’m gonna look at you. Are you gonna do it or do you need some help?” He asks, reaching his hand under the table and grazing your knee with his fingers. Making you jump. Definitely not. That’s too much in a place like this. 

“No no no I… I’ll do it.” You sigh. Looking down and mentally scolding yourself for loving this. The way your pussy is beating for him right now. 

He leans back in his seat with a satisfied smile. Subtly glancing around to make sure no one’s looking. No one needs to be involved in their little game. His eyes focus back on you, watching your arms working under the table cloth. 

It’s long enough that the table cloth covers your lap and along with the fabric napkin, it’s almost like nothing’s happening at all. But your fingers hook into the edges of your black lacy panties and pull them down. Quickly lifting your hips to be able to pull them down your thighs. Cheeks flushed red and heart beating wildly. Beyond embarrassed but hot and bothered at the same time. The feelings are one in the same. 

He leans forward now, happy with the progress you’ve made and that look on your face. Watching you lean forward to pull the panties down your legs and past your heels. All the way off. 

Taking a second to situate yourself and look around to make sure no one noticed, the lacy panties are balled up in your hand. It feels like evidence. Like something you’d get in trouble for. And the fact that he’s just watching you do all this makes you even hotter for him. 

“Here take them…” You whisper, reaching under the table with the clump of lace to give to him. But he extends his hand above the table. Brow raised in expectation and a smile on his lips. “I’ll take them up here…” 

He’s having too much fun with this. Watching your cheeks flush again and again and eyes widen. It’s adorable and hot at the same time that you’re such a little bunny, getting off on this. The waiter walks by again and you flinch, keeping your hands under the table. Waiting for the perfect moment. Fearing you’ll get caught and the embarrassment will be too much to bear. His big hand, his heavy silver watch, that stupid smirk. Such an asshole. 

“Here here take them-” You jump, shoving them into his hand with both hands as if to keep them concealed. He lets out a small whistle between his teeth. To your horror, letting the clump of lace unravel over the table for a moment. “Miguel!” You gasp, looking around and feeling your heart race. 

“Damn, I can’t believe you just did that…” He laughs, grabbing the panties in his hand and looking around too to make sure no one saw. His words ringing in your ears. “You told me to do it!” You whine, pouting at him. 

He laughs again. Looking down at the pretty panties as he admires them on his lap. Before clumping them up and putting them in his pocket. “And you’re a very good girl, baby…” 

“Oh my god…” You groan, covering your face with your hands. It’s like he’s doing everything he can to make you horny and humiliated at the same time. But you can hear him giggling across the table. “I’ll take the check whenever you get a chance…” You hear him say to the waiter. Peering through your fingers and ultimately pulling your hands away from your face. Cheeks hot and red. 

“I think my girl needs some special attention tonight…” He says softly but loud enough that the waiter who’s walking away could probably overhear. But if he did hear, he didn’t make it obvious. “Miguel O’hara.” You sigh and scold, pursing your lips together in a thin line and clenching your hands into fists on the table. 

“Oh come on…” He hums. Big hands crossing the table to grab yours and hold them. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight baby… just the way you like.” He whispers. Holding onto your hands so you couldn't possibly pull them away. And you’re just shocked. “Miguel stop…” You sigh, utterly embarrassed and flustered, his hands pulling yours gently closer to him. 

“... fill you up pretty girl… just like always right? You want that?” He taunts, tilting his head and bringing your hands up to his lips, pressing them to your knuckles. You swallow dryly and nod silently. 

“Say it. Say you want it.” He hums. 

You nod again, eyes glued to the juncture of his lips on your skin. 

“Words, baby… say the words. Say you want me to fuck you and fill you up.” 

He’s just being mean now. But it’s working. Damn him, it’s working so well.  “I… want…” He watches with a brow raised and a growing smirk on his lips. 

“I want… you to fuck me and fill me up…” You barely whisper. Positively dripping for him, slick between your thighs squeezing together under the table. “Please...” He corrects you. He wants to hear it. 

“Miguel… I want you to fuck me and fill me up…please” You say in finality. An ache in your thighs that’s impossible to ignore. Needing him more than ever. More than anything. 

“Since you asked so nicely, of course, whatever you want, baby.” He whispers, a dark glint in his eyes. Satisfied and happy watching you squirm. “Let's get out of here…” He tosses a wad of cash on the table. More than enough to cover the bill that’s taking too long to come out. He can’t fuck you fast enough. 

Tag list: @slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

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[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Could you do something where the gangs (including Tim and curly) s/o has older brothers who are also greasers and just really intimidating in general?

A/N: This was such a fun concept? Dude, I had a lot of fun writing these, thanks for requesting them <3 and look at the little cuties, god they're the cutest things-

DARRY CURTIS

Darry’s not used to having older siblings? He is the oldest, that’s just the way the world is-

Your brothers though? I have a feeling he’d be one of the boys who are the least afraid of your brothers

Like yeah, your brothers are well-known for being the tough hoods they are, there’s practically your own little family gang just between them

But Darry’s not going to be cowering beneath them, shaking in his boots afraid of them

He’s going to try and be a gentleman? He’ll shake your brothers’ hands, make conversation with them when he picks you up before dates

It’s just Darry being Darry, his mama taught him his manners and he’s going to use them <3 he’s a good person

SODAPOP CURTIS

I just have this gut feeling that without a doubt, Sodapop’s going to be at the very least, slightly afraid of your brothers

At least in the beginning, y’know? Meeting your brothers was probably one of the scariest moments in his entire life

They’re just sort of intimidating, I’m sure they’re the type to try and strike fear into all of the suitors who come for their kid sibling

After he proves himself though, either by protecting you from something or standing up for you somewhere, your brothers are pretty alright with him

Now he’s just got a few more older siblings who like to nag him for things!

I feel like he’d get along with them too, now they’re asking for you to start bringing him around more     

PONYBOY CURTIS

Unlike his older brothers, Ponyboy is, in fact, used to having scary older brothers! So yours probably won’t bother him at all

He’s very used to the whole tradition of giving your younger sibling’s date the third degree whenever you meet them for the first time

But honestly? There really isn’t a reason for your brothers not to like Ponyboy, he’s doesn’t really do a lot of bad stuff

Unless your brothers have beef with the Curtis gang for some reason, Ponyboy’s a pretty safe choice to bring home to them!

He’s respectful with them too, he does his best to make conversation when the occasions call for it and he’s polite when he stops by your house

They like to say hi to him when he walks you home from school, waving from the house or the front yard when you guys show up

DALLAS WINSTON

Do we really think Dallas is going to be off-put by you having big, scary, older brothers? Cause I don’t-

Your brothers don’t scare him in the slightest, and if they do, he’s never going to admit it Dal likes to brag that he’s seen worse up in New York and that your brothers are nothing in comparison to some of the hoods he’s dealt with

He’s going to be rude, he’s going to push your brothers’ buttons a little and pull you closer and kiss you deeper than is polite 

Honestly? I bet your brothers don’t really like him, they think you can do a lot better than Dallas Winston and will probably tell you that on the regular

However, if Dally takes down some Socs for you or something, plays a protective role that your brothers usually occupy, maybe they’ll start to like him a little more

That it doesn’t mean they’re going to be any more lenient when it comes to the rules about him hanging around though-

JOHNNY CADE

Probably your safest choice of a boyfriend when your brothers are as big and bad as they are, they’re very overprotective of you probably

Johnny has never done anything wrong in his life, is super duper polite and won’t push any of the lines your brothers draw

They don’t want him spending the night at your house? Johnny’s alright with that, he’ll give you a soft kiss on the porch before he heads off for the night

He’s respectful guys, he’s not going to push the rules and he’s going to be considerate of your brothers

If you ask him, he’ll probably tell you that he’s not afraid of them, only slightly scared but I can see Johnny kind of looking up to them like he looks up to Dallas

Don’t tell Dally that though, Johnny doesn’t think he needs to know-

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Hoohoo, oh boy, Two-Bit is going to run your brothers ragged-

Two-Bit likes to be annoying and your brothers are overprotective and it’s just so easy to get them all riled up

He’ll try and push the line sometimes, argue with them about silly things and just be a menace whenever he’s around them

Two’s not afraid of them like at all, he probably should be at least a little afraid but there isn’t one ounce of fear in his body when it comes to them

It’s another one of those, he’s gotta prove himself to your brothers? They think you can do better than Two-Bit, blah blah blah

But just one time where’s comforting you when you really need it or just being there for you when you need him, your brothers are a little more accepting of the hood

STEVE RANDLE

My version of Steve is an only child, so that’s going to affect this a little cause my Steve isn’t used to having siblings in general-

Is Steve afraid of your brothers? The answer is yes, very much so, thoroughly afraid of them

But he won’t act like he’s afraid, he just tries to toughen up by pushing his shoulders back and his chin up whenever he’s got to talk with them

Their approval is sort of important to him? He wants your brothers to like him, that’s really all he wants, he seeks the validation

Steve’s going to be polite then, making sure to have you home on time so you won’t break curfew

Your brothers probably think he’s a good enough kid, they’ll nag him every now and again, tease him just enough to keep him on his toes, it’s a brotherly kind of love guys 

TIM SHEPARD

Tim’s not afraid of your brothers, like at all-

He’s a gang leader guys, he deals with “big and scary” guys all the time so your brothers aren’t going to be any different

Tim’s got an attitude, that’s for sure, and it’s not going to change when it comes to your brothers, he’s still going to be a jerk and pester them and push all their buttons

He’s not rude? Like he follows the rules they’ve set for you, but he’s a little passive-aggressive, whispering comments that you’ll smack him for and just being a menace

Tim doesn’t take too kindly to teasing, he’s not going to let them push him around and your brothers will probably figure that out really fast  

Again, your brothers probably don’t like him, whether they don’t like Tim himself or they don’t like the Shepard gang? No one will ever know

CURLY SHEPARD

Your Brothers Either Don’t Like Him Or Just Don’t Like The Shepard Gang Pt.2

Curly’s not the greatest kid, he gets into trouble and does things he shouldn’t, but he’s used to having a scary older brother

Tim’s pretty good about keeping him in line, so he’s not too surprised when your brothers make rules about him coming around

Is Curly going to follow all of them? Probably not, he treats them more like guidelines than actual rules, curfew is more of a recommendation in his mind than a hard rule to follow

He takes care of you though, that’s something your brothers have to admit about Curly, he takes good care of you

From making sure he’s between you and whatever danger you might find yourself against to simply sharing his food with you if you’re hungry <3