dull hands

Just a Dream

So I have fallen completely in love with @thebbros and I encourage you all to check it out and give @blogthegreatrouge the creater of this AU some love! This has made me really excited to get back into writing, which more will be coming soon. Until then, thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy. So without further ado, all aboard for another adventure! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ozzy? Wake up honey, you don’t want to be late for your own show do you?”

The rabbit grumbled a bit before he opened his eyes, the sweet call of his wife enticing the sleep to part.

“Mmm…Ortensia?” Drowsiness coating his voice.

Wait a minute, Ortensia!?

He bolted upright, the covers flying in sudden shock. How? She was dead, he was there! His hands had been drenched in her blood, tears, and that sickly ink. What kind of a sick joke was this?!

A soft hand touched his cheek, making him look in that direction. She stared in his eyes, filled with loving concern.

“Ozzy? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He could hardly speak. She was there, alive right in front of him. Was it all just a bad dream?

He couldn’t help himself, he pulled her tight against him, tears flowing down his furred cheeks. He wanted to take everything in. Her smell, her warmth, her soft fur. He would never let anything happen to her again.

“Oswald? Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked worriedly. She only ever used his birth name when she was worried or cross.

He pulled back, wiping his tears with a soft laugh.

“Heh, yeah. Just…*sniff*…just had a bad dream is all.“

She gently wiped the tears that stained his fur as he lovingly kissed her small, gentle, perfect hand.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

He kissed her lips, soft and slow, cherishing the moment.

“Nah, I’m ok now that you’re here. Besides, we’ve got a show to do!”


The crowd cheered, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Man was he excited for today’s act! He held out his hand to Ortensia, glittering in her pink assistant uniform.

“Well, it’s almost time. Ready to make magic and dreams come true Ortensia?”

With a soft purr, she reached out and held his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, smiling warmly.


With a final kiss, and a tremendous magical entrance, they smiled and waved, the cheers of the crowd raising their spirits.

Oswald looked around, it felt like it had been years since he felt this much excitement, this much joy. Everything was alright. He was living the dream.

He turned toward his wife, but for some reason she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Everything suddenly felt cold.


He frantically looked around. What happened to the crowd, the light? Ortensia? Everyone was gone and he was left alone in the dark.

“Ortensia! Where are you?” His heart beat frantically as he ran, his legs taking him anywhere and nowhere.

The sound of a spotlight turning on startled him. He turned slowly around, fearing what he might find.


She lay there in the light, still, lifeless, her back facing him. Without hesitation, he ran towards her, tears welling up in his eyes. He carefully lifted her light body, turning her face towards him. His hands shook, eyes wide in disbelief.

“O-ozzy? Ozzy please…Help me…It hurts…” Her soft voice, barely a whisper cracked, the words choking amidst the ink. Her once beautiful eyes had now been ripped of color, blinded by the ink ravaging every inch of her midnight fur.


She seized up in his arms, the pain more intense than ever, her screams filling his ears.

Why? This wasn’t supposed to happen! What about their hopes? Their dreams!?

Her tears mixed with the ink, her screams of anguish bleeding out in an awful chorus. He held her tightly, his own screams joining in.



He woke up with a start, the sheets crumpling under him. His tired eyes surveyed the empty room, cold and dull. His hand, fur rough and unkempt rubbed his once again emotionless face.

It was just a dream.


The door creaked open and brightly, but quietly hopped in one of his many beautiful children. They crept close to the bed, their large eyes filled with youth staring up at his withered eyes.

“Papa? Uncle Goofy and I want to know if you’d like to come with us to go shopping?”

He stared blankly, the fright from earlier long since gone. He reached down and lifted the child up, a quick hug, stiff but filled with a pained love. He nodded solemnly. The words mocked his mind as he walked out the room with his child.

It’s your fault the dream died.

His emotionless face showed nothing of the demons he fed, his hand loosely holding the tender paw. Today was just another day without her. Sure he loved his children dearly, but without her, how could he ever smile again? His baby brother, friends, his own kids always tried to cheer him up, to make him smile even a little. But for everyone, even himself, it would never be.

That would just be another hopeless dream.

Rotten Judgement - part 3

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Hercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?

Word Count:1,564

Warnings: Language, Angst, Slaves, Shape-shifting, Mythology, Jealousy…

A/N: Thank you for the lovely comments and replies ♥ I hope you guys like this chapter.

Rotten Judgement - Masterpage

A couple of weeks after the incident in the alley, you stood in line at Starbucks. While you waited, you glanced around the coffee shop. It was a typical busy day and the place was packed. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your news feed to pass the time. Your eyes widened when you saw the headline.

“Notorious criminal dubbed ‘Crossbones’ found dead in cell.”

When the barista called your name, you snapped back to attention. You took your coffee and found a table near the front door. You set your cup and purse down on the table and read the article. The last sentence sent a chill down your spine.

Keep reading

blue night radio ♡ 170315
translation: cosmicsticks

a listener sent in a message saying that they can’t choose the color to paint their nails with and asked jonghyun what color to choose.

jonghyun: uhm …, i don’t know. since it’s spring … then blue … but will it look too dull on your hand? honestly, i can’t really do this. i don’t know …, sky blue? then… sky blue? i don’t know. this isn’t really easy. a derivation of blue … between green and blue. ㅎㅅㅎ

A Concept: Festival Shawn

So you’d do the full on festival experience: camping in a field whilst making friends with a load of strangers, who including yourself are very VERY drunk, spending all day listening to live music and drinking slightly too much cider.

First of all you two and a group of friends would need to put  up your tent, which would be a sight to watch; random poles, endless material and lack of instructions. It would be 9 in the morning but you’d already be sipping on cider to make the tent situation more funny than stressful.

After finally succeeding in building the tent, you’d head down and see whoever was playing. Shawn would be dressed in that fucking shirt that makes your knees go weak, and you’d be wearing his favourite shorts that keep his imagine far from dull. His hand would be resting on your hip as you listen to chilled music, and if it was a soppy love song he would do a little slow dance with you in the middle of the crowd. You would laugh, not caring about anyone around you as the two of you look lovingly into each others eyes. It wouldn’t be long though before Geoff and Zubin would start whooping and trying to embarrass you both. After the song was finished, the artist would shout you guys out, thanking you for making their song so romantic. You’d bury your head in Shawn’s chest feeling embarrassed, but secretly happy that people could see how in love the two of you are.

Later on in the evening when the headliner is performing, you would all be drunk and dancing around like crazy. With a beer in one hand, his other would be holding yours. Everyone’s sweaty bodies pushed up against each other, but he would still manage to be closet you. His goofy grin would mirror yours as you dance about together.

Walking back up to the tent would be a story to tell. The whole group of you struggling to walk straight, whilst singing and laughing. You’d get back to the tent and sit around in the darkness talking for a good hour or so. At about 3 in the morning you’d decide to call it a day and get some sleep, going into your separate tents.

“No sex please guys, were only 3 metres away” Geoff would shout, making the two you laugh. But I can see it now - the two of you cuddled up in a small two-man tent. Shawn’s arms wrapped around you as you nuzzle into his neck. The quite chatter from other campers and Shawn’s slow breathing would lull you to sleep.

You would be woken up to the sun basically cooking you in the small tent. Your head would be spinning, making you wish you didn’t have that extra beer someone offered you. You would look up and notice Shawn lay on his back with his hand resting on his chest. His hair would be stuck to his forehead and his legs would be tangled with yours. You’d lean up and kiss his neck, slowly trailing up to his lips. You’d hover over him, watching as he stirs awake. He’d flutter his eyes open before closing them with a groan.

“How much did we fucking drink last night?” He would groan, his morning voice filling the small space between you.

You would laugh, kissing his nose and then lie on his chest, waiting for him to wake up more.

“I am never drinking again” He would mumble, running his hand up and down your bare back.

“Don’t make promise you can keep baby” You would say with a smile, looking up to see him grin at you. “You still have two more days here, and don’t you dare tell me that you won’t drink for any of it.”

“Go away” He would respond, making you laugh out loud. “I’m never drinking again after this weekend” He’s add on, making you laugh more.

“Whatever you say baby” You grin at him, kissing his lips once more. “Ready for day two?” You’d whisper against his lips, watching as his smile grows.

“Bring it on.”

Here’s 11 of the Killers’ biggest bangers that aren’t ‘Mr Brightside’

An absolute goldmine of tunes.

Bring out the polished sceptre and the golden, bejewelled headwear. ‘Mr Brightside’ has officially been crowned the king of all bangers. The head honcho.

If we weren’t all convinced of that already, then The Killers’ secret set at Glastonbury this year confirmed it when the crowd almost drowned out the band.

But here’s the thing. The Killers are a veritable banger factory. A goldmine of tunes. A treasure trove. They’re great, okay? We all know this. So what we’ve done for you, Dear Reader, is we’ve had a big ol’ debate and put together a list of some of their other greatest tracks in no particular order. We’re good like that.

Somebody Told Me

According to Brandon Flowers ‘Somebody Told Me’ is about trying to meet someone in a club, and yeah, those spaceship-style synths definitely bring to mind mid-2000s parties and all the neon blue alcopops that came with them. That said, it is absolutely still as danceable as it was the first time around. There’s just no arguing with that intro.


‘Are we human, or are we dancer?’ The eternal question springs up again. Technically ‘Human’ is examining our vices and virtues as people, which sounds like it could be dull in other hands. But let’s not forget we’re talking about the Killers here – those lads know how to craft a pop song. Moral crises have never been so catchy.

All These Things That I’ve Done

Let’s face it, ‘Hot Fuss’ is wall-to-wall bangers. Still, ‘All These Things That I’ve Done’ is a standout. It teeters between stiff-upper-lip and cry-for-help, and that bridge can swerve between vulnerable and defiant on any given day. We defy anyone to resist the urge to sing along.

When You Were Young

The Killers’ obviously faced a lot of pressure to perform after ‘Hot Fuss’. S’all right though, because they immediately blew any second album doubts out of the water with ‘When You Were Young’. Right from the opening riff this is Flowers & co. at their best, and the joyfully nostalgic chorus just cements the fact.

Smile Like You Mean It

Another absolute classic off the lads’ debut, with a belter of a guitar part and all. Knew what they were doing early, didn’t they? Are we allowed to sing along to guitar solos now? We might do it anyway.

Change Your Mind

Brandon Flowers has made no secret of his bands’ anglophile influences, and this one’s a pretty clear case. ‘Change Your Mind’ is more New Romantics than New Wave, though, and we kind of want those synths to soundtrack all our tentative flirtations for the rest of time.


If ‘Change You Mind’ is one of the Killers’ more British-inspired songs, then ‘Runaways’ is the other end of the scale. Despite the title ‘Runaways’ is more about sticking around than making a break for it – just imagine Brandon has grabbed you by the collar and is yelling at you to recognise a good thing when you have it (like when you hear an absolute banger, for example).

Read My Mind

Solidarity, dear reader. The Killers’ are big on it. ‘I don’t mind if you don’t mind, ‘cause I don’t shine if you don’t shine’ is a lovely lyric, isn’t it? We’re all in this together and that. Don’t mind us, we’ve just got something in our eye…

The World We Live In

All of the neon lights in Las Vegas have been condensed into this song. It makes us want to go and find a light-up dancefloor and a white rhinestone-studded suit, if we’re perfectly honest with you. We’d also have to have a serious think about the state of the world thanks to the lyrics here, but we’re sure we can multi-task.

Under the Gun

While it’s one of the band’s darker tracks, at its heart ‘Under the Gun’ still keeps the faith with the insistence that ‘heaven sends and heaven takes’. That said, the repeated ‘kill me now’ chorus is just the thing when you’ve said something stupid and kind of wish a cartoon anvil would fall on your head. We’ve all been there.

The Man

The Killer’s latest single is slick and shimmering, a musical disco ball throwing light all over the place. Oh, and a swaggering Brandon Flowers really wants you to know he’s ‘the man’. We’re inclined to agree. This is an officially certified banger.

Playlist || By Liam Konemann || Dork
📷Erik Weiss
Never Let Me Go AU that I’m never gonna write:

“I used to want to be a dancer,” Yuuri says, small, folded up like a flower in Viktor’s arms. He holds up his hand towards the night sky, looking up through the gaps of his fingers to see stars peeking through. 

Viktor—enamored, in love—bundles him closer against the chill. “Yeah?”

“Or a skater. I love the way they move,” he admits almost guiltily. His eyelids flutter, shuttering closed as he recalls a memory. His lashes are a full and thick against his pale cheek. When he opens his eyes again, they are dull with resignation, his hands falling slowly into his lap. “When I was younger, before I got sick.”

There’s a lump in Viktor’s throat that he ignores, pressing a kiss into the dark hair beneath his chin. “What if—” The words in his mouth are sharp, but he forges on anyway. He has to know. “And if you weren’t sick? Would you try?”

Yuuri’s breathy laugh answers for him. It sounds bright, wistful. “Yes,” he says, “oh, yes.”

@sleepyfortress @domokunrainbowkinz @captbuccaneer @nightshorrors @gisellegrenwille @diabolicalvitality

Suffer with me.

Chardonnay [M]

Anonymous said: Perfect ! So~ for your first writing I could propose you this scenario : You work on bts staff and once you have dinner together in a restaurent (staff and bangtan ) you are sitting next to Yoongi and he begins to fingering under the table with everybody around you Hope it’s ok ;)

Warnings: SMUTTY, alcohol use, language

Originally posted by mn-yg

You let out a deep breath as you took your seat at the large dinner table.  The staff and all of BTS were out celebrating their success on their latest album.  Normally you wouldn’t feel so bad, you were used to being around them, for god’s sake you were even used to touching them.  You were doing at least 3 of their hair every other day. 

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Loki x Reader

Summary: the reader suffers from steady nightmares and finds help in the arms of her neighbor down the hall.
Word Count: 1453
Warnings: crappy writing ? 

A/N: my first piece in… forever, so apologies if it’s a bit rusty. This is like… halfway between a drabble and a one shot. I’ll work on that in the future. HERE GOES

Your feet padded softly along the cool corridor floor as you pulled the thin blanket closer to your skin, biting your lip hard enough to taste iron. Your body shook with the aftermath of adrenaline, cool sweat on your skin, teeth chattering and overheating all at once. Any other evening, and you might’ve stopped between the pillars to admire Asgard’s night sky. Tonight, the cool glow reflected on your skin in a sickly way. Your fingers trembled against your parted lips as you continued on, trying to pry your mind away from your dreams.

It was a familiar habit by now. Most nights you woke up before the sun screaming like a warrior in battle. Sometimes you escaped, jolting up, chest heaving in a cold sweat. But the fight was in your head, and there were no weapons you could reach, and every attempt to run turned time slow, slow, slow…

Keep reading

When Ladybug is quiet enough, sits still enough, she feels herself multiplied by a thousand. 

She feels filled to the brim with ghosts of battle cries, mortal wounds, and ultimate sacrifices that feel foreign and familiar all at once. Like her suit that feels thick and heavy one day, and like it’s melted into her skin the next. 

Tikki says it’s because her miraculous loves vitality, loves spirit, loves passion. It doesn’t know how to let go of it all. 

Marinette wakes up screaming some nights for the safety of a village she can’t remember, can’t picture. Sometimes, she throws her yoyo into the air and she swears she feels the splintered shaft of a spear as it soars from her hand. Dull blows to the torso that send her flying for very brief seconds feel like bullet wounds that pierce deep and true. 

The Ladybugs before her fought wars. Led revolutions. Saved civilizations. She is just a little girl who stands in awe before her city and still finds herself unable to predict how she’ll manage to protect it tomorrow, and the day after that. Her legacy is already written, and it’s too vast for her to comprehend. 

Chat Noir finds her staring out into the lights of the city, her head tilted to the sky, listening to the dozens of voices, the hundreds of languages, the millions of cries for peace, for justice, for Ladybug. She tells him how much it excites her and how much it scares her. How unclear yet pristine her future looks. She is luck and creation. She is change. She is hope.

She asks if he ever feels like that. He admits that sometimes he’s petrified. 

He holds his baton and swears sometimes that it’s crumbling in his fingertips. He wakes up screaming because he swears his heart isn’t beating. When he’s flung against buildings, he sits there stunned for a moment like his blood is still and his skin is chilled. 

Ladybug asks him what he hears when he’s still and quiet. He says he hears screams, and then nothing. 

Summer in Savannah

My saltmate is one year older which means gifts of fic must be written! Happy Birthday @wrathofthestag​!!! xoxoxoxo

(Also on AO3)

Savannah had been his mother’s idea.

You’ll love it! She said. There’s so much history—everywhere you look!

Fresh off a disappointing end to the Falconer’s most recent bid for the Stanley, Jack needed to get away. He wasn’t a beach person, although the solitude of a private hut somewhere tropical held its own brand of allure. Europe had been his first choice, somewhere he could blend in, where his face wouldn’t run the risk of recognition, where he could meld into crowds and explore, untethered to the Jack Zimmermann hockey legacy.

Trust me, his mother had laughed. Georgia might as well be another country, and you’ll love the people.

As it turned out, she wasn’t wrong.

Keep reading

“He made me promise not to tell anyone. I wanted to tell you Zoro, I really wanted to, but he refused, he didn’t want to stay in one place and he, he didn’t let me treat him! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” They are still doing something with your hand but their hooves shake enough it’s not hard to break their hold. You hug them tightly, pull their little furry body into your arms and pet their head.

“You didn’t do anything wrong”, you say. Your voice is hoarse. “You obeyed his orders, and that can’t have been easy. You were very brave.”

The first bits of an old unfinished (and really sloppy and indulgent) fic can be found under the cut. It has. well. it has zolawlu, focusing on zolu and zolaw. It has lots of drinking, and brief mentions of (not very successful) sex but Luffy is explicitly asexual. And detailed major character death, the working title is “deathfic take two”. It seems to fit the theme “pain” for the sixth day of zolu week. love that sweet zoro angst

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Part 5- And last but definitely not least, suga being the right-hand man to namjoon, he handles all the business side of things and makes sure that namjoons plans go smoothly, but also being ruthless with namjoon towards those that threat their members. And that's all I got 🤔😅 holy crap I'm super sorry on how many messages I sent, I just needed to share and that is all - hyper anon

Originally posted by vminv

Jimin // Jungkook // Suga // V // Rap Monster


Words: 2677

You turned the key in the lock to Yoongi’s house, slowly opening the door and expecting to see him lying somewhere, asleep, or worse, not asleep. He’d been gone two weeks oversea’s for work Namjoon had forced him to scout out. Of course, you’d been worried the whole time, unable to call or even text him. The most you’d said to him was over a sad messaging system which restricted to 200 letters a message and wouldn’t allow emoji’s to portray your feelings and jokes. At least it allowed pictures, or else you would’ve just accepted him ignoring you for the whole time he was away.

You’d sent him a generous amount of pictures the whole time he’d been gone, teasing him to no end and driving him insane. Yoongi would definitely jump you if he wasn’t so drained. You knew he probably wouldn’t have eaten a home cooked meal since the day before he left, so you supplied yourself before trucking over to his place.

You stopped dead in your tracks, taking the sight of his house in before you. Jackets and shoes were spewed all over the floor at the front door, causing you to almost trip and fall. That wasn’t even the worst of it. 

Walking in deeper to the pit of hell, you spotted guns shucked onto the floor along with hundreds of either ripped or crumpled papers. His laptop was open on the table, but the screen was black. There was dim lighting only from the kitchen, where you dropped your bags off.

A voice rung from the back of the house, where Yoongi’s office was located. You began to drift toward the room, listening to the voices that rung with nothing other than aggravation.

“But Yoongi-” a voice cut in, causing a loud smack against something that sounded like wood to cut in.

“I didn’t tell you to talk, did I? No. Now shut the fuck up before I tell Namjoon you had an accident back in America.”

“Right…” The other voice trailed off, falling silent altogether. You leaned your ear up to the door, wondering how exactly your sweet boyfriend could turn into something other than just that- sweet.

“Anyway, a few of us are going to have to go to Busan and teach that kid a lesson. Put a bullet through his skull and leave it at that, get it? Figure out who’ll do it, I’m fucking tired.”

“Yoongi,” another voice chimed in, and you knew it was Taehyung. “Shouldn’t it be Jimin and Seokjin to go?”

“You think I’m going to send the best sniper and our poison expert go there to die? Nobody else knows the human body better than Jin so no way in hell am I sending those dumb asses out, especially alone. Taehyung, shut up.” His voice was less harsh than before, hinted with the affection Yoongi held for the younger boy. “You and Hoseok will go, Taehyung. Jungkook’s to amateur to be excellent at pick pocket like you, and he’d just weigh Hoseok down. This is too big to fuck up, so I need the both of you to succeed. I’ll pay you each 25% of whatever you find there, maybe more if I feel you deserve it. Now here-”

You began to pull away from the door, wondering if you should’ve heard any of the things you just had. Of course you shouldn’t have, but Yoongi told you everything anyway. You knew there was things he hid from you, which you were alright with, and this was no exception. He was just working, which was how he usually spent his days.

Right as you began to pull away from the door, it snapped open. You were met by a tired looking Yoongi holding the bridge of his nose and lightly massaging it. Upon spotting you, his eyes grew wide and he shoved you out the door.

“Keep making up a plan with the map I gave you.” Yoongi snapped, slamming the wood shut so nobody would see you. His arms seized your shoulders, pushing you towards the bathroom with an expression that read why-are-you-here?-you-definitely-shouldn’t-be-here.

“Yoongi, I-”

“If anyone saw you they would’ve shot you.” His voice was hushed as he closed the bathroom door and clicked the lock shut. His eyes hungrily met yours holding you against the sink. Yoongi’s shoulders were hunched slightly, and his button down shirt wrinkled. The slacks he wore were slightly stained with hints of red- blood

“I…” you cut yourself off. “Sorry…”

His eyes softened at your words, before engulfing you. Yoongi’s fingers tangled in your hair, while the other hand held your shoulder tightly to his chest. Your head laid against his shoulder, mind racing with thoughts of how exactly he still managed to be more put together than you even in a state such as this.

“I’m going to kick them out, okay? I need my reward for being alive still.”

“What?” You feel him begin letting you go, before placing a finger to his lips. Yoongi disappears back to the room, and you could hear him yelling for all the people to scatter. Yoongi returned, taking your hand and gently guiding you towards his bedroom, where the door hung wide open now.

“I brought food…Shouldn’t we clean up your place?”

“I’m tired.” His response was dull, but Yoongi’s hand tightened around yours. He began to unbutton his shirt, throwing it aside without a second glance and climbing on the bed. His room seemed to be the only tidy space in his house, and you made a mental note to begin cleaning once he was fast asleep. It was the least you could do to make his life a little easier.

You crawled after him on the bed, picking up the covers and draping them over his body before letting Yoongi wrap his arms around you. He was never like this, unless something was on his mind.

“Yoongi, what happened? You should’ve kicked me out. Namjoon will be-”

“I’m scared,” his voice was merely a breath, but it still caught your full attention. You sighed, bringing your hand up and down his back in comforting ways. His hands were shaking.

“Why?” You murmured lightly, and he shook his head against your chest.

“He knows about us…” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, and it still cracked with uncertainty.

“Who?” You were uncertain who he was speaking of, but a sense of dread filled you. His arms tightened around you, before Yoongi met your eyes.

“Namjoon found out who you were without even trying. He knows where you live, your birthday and even where you work. He told me I’m not being secretive enough with you, that anyone would be able to find you and…”

“And?” You kept on, wondering if you even wanted to know.

“Kill you.” His voice broke off, before getting up abruptly. His whole body was rigid as he stood up. He went over to his dresser, hitting his foot against it violently. You knew why his entire house was trashed, now.

“Yoongi, stop.” Your voice was as calm as it could be, but still wavered. He didn’t, anger overflowing around him and causing him to knock a lamp over onto the floor. It shattered loudly.

“Yoongi!” You sat up as well, going over and wrapping your arms around his back. His arms were pinned to his sides now, and for a moment, he calmed. His breathing was ragged despite barely moving, and you knew he was over working himself to the point beyond exhaustion.

“I don’t care if Namjoon knows, he won’t do anything, you know that. Nobody will find me, Yoongi…I’ll be fine as long as I’m with you.”

He didn’t respond, but faltered in return. You took it upon yourself to brush your lips against Yoongi;s back, placing your warm cheek against him and sighing loudly. He unpinned both of your arms and turned around.

“You don’t care?” He sounded unpleasantly disbelieving of you, making you shake your head.

“That’s not it. Namjoon already knew you were with me, so he just made them follow me around. Yoongi, everyone’s too scared of you to do anything. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Why are you so stubborn? Didn’t you hear me tell you I was scared? There’s no way in hell I’m letting you out of my sight anymore. You have to move in with me and call whenever you go out. I’ll pick you up from work and take you there. Hold on…” He trailed off, reaching into one of his dresser drawers and pulling out a small bottle. Pepper spray? “Carry this with you.”

“Honestly…” You snorted, gently pushing his hand down. Yoongi was entirely serious, you could tell just by the way his lips were firmly pressed into a pout that made him look young, childish. “I don’t need it. I also won’t move in with you if this is the way you keep your house.”

He stomped his foot, throwing the bottle onto the bed. “You know I don’t keep it like this! Baby, let’s go get your stuff. Just some clothes right now, okay?”

“No,” your voice was firm, and you crossed your arms tightly across your chest.

“What do you mean, no? I’m not letting you leave.”

“I’m staying here to watch you sleep for a good 13 hours. After you wake up, I’m going to make you food and then we’ll go get my stuff. Better go to sleep, now.”

His eyes flashed for a moment, before a small smile met his lips. He crossed his arms as well, before leaning down and brushing his soft lips against your forehead. Once Yoongi pulled away from you, your hands snaked around his shoulders and pulled him in for a real kiss. The first real kiss you’d both shared since he left. It was a simple kiss, slow, long kissing that left the both of you breathless. It was Yoongi who pulled away again, holding you at arms length with glistening lips.

“I’ll kiss you more when I wake up.” His fingers seemed to be cutting into your shoulders by how hard he was holding you. It seemed as if he was restricting himself more, and you nodded to yourself.

Yoongi laid down in his bed, pulling you along with him. He probably guessed you’d get up after he fell asleep, so he only placed his hand gingerly on your hip. The both of you laid there for awhile, but you didn’t fall asleep.

Yoongi was lights out after a few minutes of shutting his eyes, but you wanted to be there longer with him. His mouth hung open slightly, while his head laid back deeply into the pillow. Your hand brushed a few strands of hair off his face, before you bent down and kisses his temple. 

Although sleeping so deeply, Yoongi stirred in his sleep and held you there. Untangling yourself, you knew he wouldn’t wake so easily, but you still did it as lightly as you could. He needed his sleep, and you needed to clean his pig sty of a house.

Over the few years of dating him, Namjoon had just found out about you. Although you knew it was something to worry about, you and Yoongi had been safe thus far. His boss wouldn’t do anything to hurt either of you, especially with Yoongi being his right hand man, and only computer hacker.

You pondered these things while walking around his house, cleaning up the scraps of paper and throwing them into the recycling bag. It seemed as though there was an endless amount of papers scattered everywhere, but once you stood up fully and took a look around, you saw you’d done a good amount so far. There was a visible dent in the layers upon layers of paper, and you were pleased.

Getting bored of cleaning you decided to begin making some food. It would still be hours before Yoongi woke up, but you were feeling a little hungry and it was fine to reheat it after he did wake up.

You ate and cleaned up the plates in the kitchen, before returning back to the dining room and resumed cleaning. It had barely been over 4 hours since Yoongi fell asleep but you were still hard at it.

Picking up one crumpled piece of paper you noticed how heavy it was. Unraveling it, you held a velvety red box that made your chest tighten. You wondered if in fact, you should open the box to see if there was anything in there. It was just to see if you could throw the box away or not, you decided. Just cleaning up…

You flicked open the box, and the door to Yoongi’s bedroom creaked open. A yawn erupted from across the room, causing you to look up from the ring sitting prettily in the box.

“Are you cleaning?” Yoongi’s voice was filled with sleep, it cracked with dryness and you snapped the box shut before standing up. In attempts to hide the ring box behind your back, you knew it was too late. Yoongi saw the box and cursed, before striding over to you and reaching behind your back to snatch it away. He failed, though.

“W-why are you awake?” You backed up, face flushing as he attempted to reach around you once more and take the box.

“I was thirsty,” his voice was flat, and you knew exactly why he had a ring in the box, and was attempting to take it away from you.

“Go back to sleep, okay?” You held out a hand, trying to keep him away from you. Yoongi’s brows furrowed, and he pinned your hand down before easily taking away the box.

“You opened it, didn’t you?” He sighed, fingering the box before propping it open with his thumb.

“No way…” You lied, looking away from the box. “I didn’t open it.”

“Liar. You’re telling me you didn’t see the ring I bought?”


“You don’t want to marry me?” He was grinning, looking down at you before picking up one of your hands and gently placing the box in it. In the new light, the ring shone. It was elegant, not too over the top. It fit both yours and Yoongi’s personality almost perfectly.

“Ask me properly…” Your voice came out as a breath. You couldn’t meet his eyes, feeling as if your lungs would burst by how hard you were holding your breath.

His fingers tickled under your chin, directing your face to his where he gave you a swift peck. You pulled away from the kiss, eyes searching his face but only seeing the soft blush that had formed along his cheeks. It was the first time you’d seen him swallow excess saliva so forcefully and fidget with the messy strands of hair sticking to his face.

“Don’t say no, okay?”

You nodded, watching as he dropped to his knee. Yoongi took a deep breath, and you let out a shaky laugh. It was the worst way to propose, the both of you knew. In a dimly lit, messy house with an only half dressed Yoongi, clumsy from sleeping for such a little time.

He looked up at you again, pure determination taking over his features before he took the box from you and plucked out the small circular metal.

“Will you…God…Will you ma…rry..marry…”

“Yoongi,” you murmured, causing him to stop talking and nod his head. “Just say it.”

“Oh, just fucking marry me.” He snapped this time, standing up and putting the ring in your hand. Oh. This was much more like the boyfriend you knew and loved. You slid the ring on your finger, inspecting it before looking at him with a smirk.

“Mm, I’ll fucking marry you.”

“Good, that means you’re stuck with me.” His voice was harsh, but it was clear he was relieved by your answer.

“Yeah,” you grinned from ear to ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”