#(but they mostly only get it by lying and stealing. and sex work which is the most honest shit they do LOL)

[collegeoflore]

obsessed with the way xarrai and astarion’s lives ran so parallel for like the entire 15 years xar lived in baldur’s gate. constantly dancing around each other but never actually meeting. when xar wasn’t playing in the lower city taverns they were in the helm and cloak in the upper city convincing patriars to empty their pockets for a night with them and astarion was luring victims in the outer city and they just kept almost crossing paths over and over again but never really meeting. it makes that line after you meet sebastian in cazador’s dungeon where you can tell astarion “face it, you would have killed me” so juicy for them because they both know they were like. actually always a hair’s breadth from that reality

[your-nanas-house]

Could you write something about how cillian would deal with being married to a younger reader with a high sex drive. She's very needy and he tries his best to satisfy her but it's hard to keep up for him with his age and maybe he just lets her use him sometimes like a dildo.

I mean...plzzz? Love it 😭

My living dildo

◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy x wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: age gap (Cillian 40s and Y/n 20s), smut, needy reader

◇ Summary: Y/n gets horny after his husband gets a cramp because of his age.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

Y/n's gaze was fixed on her husband who was reading in their bed, wearing only boxers and a short-sleeved shirt.

She was leaned against the doorframe, wearing just her pink short nightgown, barefoot and hair down— her bottom lip caged between her teeth.

She shifted her attention for a moment, spreading the cream on her thigh, before hearing a groan of pain coming from her older husband. Her gaze shot up, looking at Cillian to see if he was alp right just to find him with his hands on his leg, complaining about a cramp he was heaving at his left leg.

In a quick motion, Y/n moved away from where she was to help him, her hand reached for his bare leg, helping him stretch it carefully— her touch moved higher and higher on his thigh, massaging his pale freckled skin and moving closer to his clothed crotch.

As soon as Cillian's cramp vanished and his attention quickly "jumped" on her hands which were still moving, reaching now his clothed crotch

"Love" he started, a mild-panic in his eyes "I can't—" he continued before Y/n shushed him with a loving kiss, pleading eyes looking at his handsome face while her hand rubbed slowly, following the length of his hardening and abused cock.

It was the fourth time that they made love that day and Cillian was clearly a bit exhausted, his cock— having its own mind— had other ideas, reason because he was rock hard in a couple of minutes, even though he hadn't energies to fuck his younger wife again.

"Yer so needy" Cillian commented, grunting softly due to her touch.

His hand rubbed her hips softly when her hand moved up to his torso to push him in a lying position

"Just for you, honey" she murmured in a soft tone, biting her bottom lip while her hips started to grind against him.

"Fuck, love" Cillian purred softly as Y/n worked on his pants, releasing his hard thick cock; her body moved fast on her own, reaching for the lube they had on the nightstand ready to spread it on her husband's throbbing cock— whom hissed at the sudden contact.

As soon as Y/n made sure that it was ready she quickly positioned his tip at her entrance, moving carefully down, letting him stretch and fill her again

"Fucking hell— yes!" Y/n screamed when she started to bounce, riding her husband wildly, using his length for their pleasure, mostly hers— Since she was riding him like if she was using her dildo in a lonesome night.

Cillian's moans and praises made her going, reaching the pick quite quickly but ending up continuing to steal orgasms after orgasms from both of them.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

How would the gals in general prefer to cuddle? Like position and location and what's going on in the background kinda stuff?

Jill: On the couch with you lying on top of her with nothing going on. She would like all your attention and if you do turn something on she'll just have to steal it. Like this it's almost too easy to steal a kiss or maybe grind into you a little, she doesn't have those dancer hips for nothing

Rose: In your bed on your sides facing each other with some music or a podcast or something in the back. She doesn't want anything visual because she wants you to look at her but having something to listen to is very nice. She does have a habit of getting horny while you're cuddling but if you tell her you're not down for it she obvi backs off, might still ask to grind on your thigh though

Janette: On the couch/on her office chair sitting up with you in her lap while reading a book. She might decide to read to you if she's feeling nice but she just might make you read it instead. It'd be a shame if she was cock warming you on her strap while you're trying to read to her, wouldn't it? All foggy and confused, just trying to remember what the words mean so you can cum within the next hour

Josephine: On her back with you lying on her chest in your bed while you're watching movies. She can not have her back facing open air and being able to see you and the rest of the room is comforting to her. She'll play with your hair or rub your back while you two watch the movie. If she can she'll pick one you love talking about and will periodically ask you questions to hear you talk

Bow: On your sides as the big spoon in her doggy bed with nothing on. She loves being behind you like this, it gives her great neck nibbling acses. Plus, you can't have anything on because she's so hyper most of the time that the only cuddles you get are when she's ready for bed or you two just had sex

Nikki: In her bed watching random youtube videos in whatever position she can kiss you in. She really loves kisses and just continuously peppers you with them. After a certain point you have to remind her that she doesn't have to ask before each one. She can get pretty sore from her job, accidently stretching or pulling something while camming or with clients tends to happen so if you're willing she'd love some massages

Shauna: On the couch your legs slung over hers watching shitty scary movies with Moonpie. You two are still close but it's mostly about the popcorn and the movie, and Moonpie ofc. Moonpie does this little thing where he'll hide his face in his paws when you two kiss, it reads as very "Mom, stap"

Irene: In your bed with you as the big spoon while watching anime. She'll change the genera depending on your mood. Had a shitty day? This one's sure to make you wheeze. Need a good cry? She has a whole collection of tear jerkers ready to go. Need something wholesome? There's so much slice of life stuff she keeps on tap, which cover looks cuter? N-No, she's defiantly not keeping track of the characters you like so she can cosplay them, shut up

Bonnie: In her office chair on her lap while she works. She's on that grind set, she doesn't have time outside of work to be wasting on cuddles. Now, if you sweeten the pot with the promise of your body she could see you on her days off (Like she was gonna keep her hands to herself either way)

[landlordevil]

Hello. I would like to know about the special teifling. I hear lying comes so easily to their forked tongue.

2-4 (please I must know about the family dynamics, please), 15, 16, and 23

(๑¯﹀¯๑)

HI BESTIE and favorite person to complain about this game with <3333

Lying comes SO easily to their forked tongue. I forgot abt it until I started playing as them again and Asty got inspired three separate times in the span of a few hours. He loves it when his boygirlfriend lies

2. Does your Tav have any siblings? Are they close?

Eins has a younger half-sister! They're not super close because they became half-siblings when Eins was already an adult but they're very affectionate w their family so they'd still kill for her... she's in her angsty teen phase now but Eins is unflappable so they're still like Yay family time ^_^ I love my sister who wants to kill me sometimes <333

3. Who was your Tav raised by?

Eins' mom is a cambion and their dad is a Zariel tiefling, so I'd like to think other tieflings recognize they've got a little more devil in them than most... I do think the vestigial wings they have in-game eventually sprout to become small wings- not large enough to fly with but enough to be really cute. Now they gotta DIY their outfits to be backless. But their parents divorced when they were young so Eins was mostly raised by their mom and her new Halfling wife!!! They're so in love it warms Eins' heart but could be sickening to the cynical crowd...

4. Is your Tav close with whoever raised them?

Eins doesn't stay in touch with their dad but DOES stay in touch w their moms... until the tadpole. They were too afraid to write- What would they write? Would their parents try to come looking for them and only find a mind flayer? Would it put them in danger?- so I imagine they come home one night after months of no communications and get the biggest earful of their life...

15. Answered this so I'll answer number... 9! Eins has the criminal backstory, which for me amounts to doing odd, less than legal jobs, occasionally stealing, and making temporary allegiances whenever it suited them... it was generally in pursuit of the greater good though. They've used their skills as a fighter to intimidate patriars, worked construction for a while, worked at a clothier until the store owner realized they were just giving outfits away for free and didn't gaf about making any profit... what a rascal

16. What's your Tav's favorite childhood memory?

Probably festival time!!! IDK what festivals are like in Baldur's Gate but I love the idea of little Eins dressing up to go listen to music and dance <3 they have music in their SOUL they should have been a bard TBH but they lack any and all musical talent. Kind of unrelated but when they make you play a song to [character you haven't met yet so I won't spoil it] I imagined it going just abysmally, real charlie kelly energy, so someone else had to step in and finish the job LMAO.

23. Share any hcs/anything you want to say about your Tav's backstory

HMMMMM well pre magic mirror update I had the headcanon that Eins changed their primary sex characteristics at random depending on the day (which has now become canon, thanks Larian!). They love sweetbreads, sometimes they lie about stupid things that don't matter just to see if anyone notices, they love to sing when they travel which used to get on everyone's nerves but once they all got a little closer it became charming, even to lae'zel (one of their closest friends who loves to hate on them all the time)

Also for a more serious headcanon I imagine that shortly after meeting Sebastian in Cazador's crypts Eins runs into a friend of theirs in that same cell, who had been taken only weeks before. But suddenly it all feels too real- the hypothetical "would it have been me in that cage?" that Astarion couldn't answer, didn't even want to think about, becomes a very resounding "yes". I think Astarion even tries to defend it- like it wasn't me! one of my siblings! she's only been in there for a few weeks!- It's the only time the companions have ever seen Eins that angry, angry at Cazador, angry at the world that let this happen, angry that so many people are considered this disposable... and they do lash out at Astarion when he tries to ascend as a result. Not one of their proudest moments, the both of them. But they came out of it OK, or as OK as they can be <3

Anyways TY and TY for sharing your run of BG3 with meeeeee I love hearing about it always and forever and thank you for letting me put Halsin's sex scene on your TV just so we could laugh at the way he leans against that tree

[gigantomachy1916]

L, Misa, and Sex in Death Note

Well well well, if it isn't me again, using this site like an actual blog and writing goddamn essays for an audience of like 5 people because I don't understand how Tumblr works.

I've just been thinking recently that it surprises me a bit when people see L/Misa as an implausible crack ship, especially compared to the much more popular ship of L/Light. I mean, I get why people like Lawlight. I went through my own Lawlight phase, and I still read fics about them sometimes. The homoerotic subtext between L and Light is pretty obvious.

But L's sexual interest in Misa isn't even subtext. It's literally just text. Yes, you can argue whether it's real or just an act. But in canon, every single time we see an unambiguous expression of sexual interest from L, it is directed towards Misa. (By "unambiguous" I mean "this dialogue/action is clearly intended to be sexual," but that doesn't make it necessarily genuine, since L could be lying). I'm putting the rest of this under a cut cause it's long.

The funny thing is, though it contradicts the way L is usually interpreted in fanon, out of all of the main characters, Misa and L are probably the ones who display the most sexuality. Whether L's displays of sexuality are an act or not, he's much more likely than Light to make comments about sex or to do shit like this:

And then there's the fact that L and Misa's interactions are often sexualized, even when L's actions have logical explanations. For instance, L touching her butt to steal her phone, or restraining her in an unnecessarily fetishy sort of way (she could've been held captive in the same way Light was if Watari had just worn a helmet every time he entered the room). A reader might believe that L doesn't see those situations as sexual at all, and was just doing what was necessary to catch Kira. But it was an active choice that Ohba made, to make L's actions in investigating Kira "just happen" to require sexualized interactions with Misa.

My friend @litterateur97 (who I also have to thank for reminding me about the above panel) has made some good points about this as well: as they said in a post the other day, "I noticed in the manga and in the anime that most of the time when L and Misa argue, they lean in towards one another, as if pulled towards one another. He is also often seen watching her, on cameras and in person, in a manner that looks sexual to me." This gif I stole from them illustrates both points, not only showing them getting in each other's personal space during an argument, but also, as they pointed out, L begins by looking down at Misa's chest before making eye contact with her.

Besides that, L and Misa have a tendency to be playful with each other in ways that could be interpreted as flirtatious. Compared to L and Light, who tend to be more dramatic and serious, Misa brings out L's more childish and teasing side. She pulls his hair, he bonks her on the head with a megaphone and threatens to kick her, etc. They have a very different type of chemistry than L and Light, more fun than serious, "opposites attract" as opposed to the intellectual match that L and Light have, but to my eyes, the chemistry between L and Misa clearly exists.

I've been wondering why people seem so quick to overlook this, or to brush off all of L's interest in Misa as purely an act and think of L as basically asexual. I think part of it is that Misa's role in Death Note involves personifying the romance/sexuality that is mostly omitted from the plot and the other characters. (Which is a pretty classic thing for a sexist author to do: Misa is our Token Woman, and women are identified with sex and romance, thus Misa must be.) She's sexualized in many of her interactions with the other male characters, though to a lesser extent than she is when she interacts with L.

So it seems to me like people attribute the sexual nature of their interactions to Misa, not to L. It's seen as an extension of Misa being the Sexy One, not as a true expression of L's sexuality. I personally have some ideas as to why so many of Misa and L's interactions in canon were sexualized; I think that L is used as a surrogate by which the authors can sexualize Misa.

One interesting thing is that, despite sexuality being such a fundamental part of her character, Misa isn't actually sexualized in the art very much. Compared to other manga, even other shonen manga, her artwork doesn't feel that male gaze-y. We don't get many cleavage/upskirt shots of her; even when she's wearing lingerie, she's drawn pretty neutrally, with a few exceptions. We can see that she's trying to look sexy, and that many of the characters find her sexy, but they're not especially trying to excite the reader. My guess is that Obata and Ohba purposefully avoided fanservice because they felt it would make the manga seem less serious.

But despite the lack of fanservice, they still wanted to convey that Misa was the Sexy Character. How to do this, if not through art? They used L. Compared to Light, who takes himself seriously and is more composed, L usually behaves in socially inappropriate ways. So they use L's behavior towards Misa as one of the main ways of indicating to the reader that Misa is seen as a sex object.

This especially stood out to me in the omakes (4-panel comics). There's the whole joke plot where it's implied that L is trying to figure out whether Misa's "carpet matches the drapes," only for it to be revealed that he's actually wondering about her sock color (which is a case where Ohba is injecting the concept of sex into their relationship even if L's actual intentions are innocent). There's also this moment, where L makes a totally unprompted sexual comment about Misa:

Another reason I think that people see L/Misa as a crack ship is that L's sexual interest in Misa is pretty much always played for laughs. Ohba seems to find it comical to consider L as a sexual being at all (apparently he considered making Near and Mello L's sons, but decided against it because he couldn't picture L having sex). In much the same way that L is used to draw attention to Misa as a sex object, Misa's sex appeal is used to give Ohba a reason to allude to L's sexuality, which is mostly done as comic relief. But the fact that it's portrayed as comical doesn't mean that it's "crack," or that L's attraction to Misa isn't a real aspect of his character. After all, L's obsession with sweets is similarly used for comedy.

Obviously there is no real need to justify our ships by canon, or to care that much about the canon take on things. Still, I think it's interesting to consider how much of L's sexual interest in Misa was meant as genuine. My take on canon, which may be very different than others, is that L does have sexual desires, if not any real-world experience with sex. And I think that if we accept that L is sexually attracted to anyone at all, there is the most evidence for that person being Misa.

Does he exaggerate that interest in order to manipulate Misa, or to weird her out? Absolutely. A lot of his socially inappropriate behavior seems like a front that he puts up in order to distance himself from those around him and prevent them from knowing him as a person. But at the same time, I think there is a kernel of truth behind the front. I don't think it goes as far as romantic interest (I wouldn't say that he actually "fell for" her), and it doesn't mean that he doesn't find her irritating and dumb much of the time, but I think that his behavior towards Misa is so consistently sexually charged that I would be surprised if it's 100% fake.

Besides that, even in a reading where L is entirely asexual/gay and only faking interest in Misa to make her uncomfortable, it's undeniable that Ohba is purposefully sexualizing their interactions, likely as a shortcut to sexualizing Misa herself without having to include a bunch of fanservice. So if the people in this fandom like to read into every bit of homoerotic subtext between L and Light (which, again, I am on board with), I don't really see why y'all would be surprised by people choosing to explore the sexual component to L and Misa's interactions that's been purposefully included in canon.

Honestly, I think this is what first got me interested in the ship. When I was a lil preteen in the early Death Note fandom, I, like about a million other people, had a crush on L. And I liked to watch his interactions with Misa. Because sexuality and romance was mostly sidelined in Death Note, and they seemed to have an attitude that serious geniuses didn't care about that stuff, I found it exciting when the show implied that L was a person who felt sexual or romantic desire, and that Misa brought out a side of him that was not seen in his other scenes in the show.

Whether Ohba intended it to be real or not, I wanted to believe it was real, because it made his character more interesting and compelling to me. It humanized him in some way, made him more vulnerable, especially when compared to Light, who always seemed very cold and sterile to me. And because of that, this ship has always had a special place in my heart.

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[mikalara-dracula]

Sharing a bed with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Yuma doesn’t really sleep a lot.

He’s far off from being like a certain narcoleptic blonde vampire we all know.

Tbh, he uses his bed more for sex than sleep.

Like, he’s always doing something in general and doesn’t rest too much due to how much endurance he has through being a vampire.

For example, he’ll be up for days straight and not rest at all--that’s how productive he is.

But when he gets tired, he will use his bed to sleep.

So when he wanted to rest, he decided to crash in your bed since he thinks that sleeping beside you will guarantee him a good sleep, but this is really just an excuse to lay down next to you.

Despite him being your boyfriend and you loved being with him at any time, you really didn’t want him to sleep next to you because he was known to snore.

“Yuma, why can’t you sleep in your bed?” You’d ask.

“What? You don’t like me sleeping in your bed?”

“Yeah, you keep me up all night since you snore.”

“Hey! At least I’m not the one who drools.”

“I don’t drool!”

“Oh really, why do you wake up with a wet pillow then?”

“I do not!”

“Liar.”

While laying down next to you, if you’re facing in the opposite direction of him, he likes to pull you close to him and nuzzle his face into the back of your neck.

And you’re always the little spoon, he never changes this because he thinks you’re too small to be in charge. Plus, Yuma likes it best when he’s the one having his arms around you.

He gets mad when your back is turned to him honestly.

“Why are you always turned in the other direction? I can never see my babe that way.”

“You don’t need to, I’m trying to sleep unlike you who only wants to make kids.”

“Hey! Our childern would be beautiful, there’s no arguing that.”

“Good night, Yuma.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t wanna make little pigs?”

“They wouldn’t be little pigs.”

“Alright, you don’t like that word--piglets then.”

Likes to also lay his hand on your hip, having his hand travel down to your thigh and grip it if he’s feeling playful.

He’ll even go as far as to clutch your ass or give it a small smack, making you jolt up and scold him.

“Yuma! I’m trying to sleep.”

“It’ll be just a few minutes, little pig.” He’d smirk, implying his need.

“But Yuma, I’m sleepy.” You’d whine.

“Seriously! I’m tryin’ put you in the mood and you’re just gonna sleep?”

“I’m tired, it’s been a long day. Why not tomorrow?”

“Oh my god, you’re really turning this down right now?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He’d say, giving up as he’d turn away from you and face the opposite direction.

However, him facing the other way won’t last long since he’d get another idea.

“Okay fine, you can sleep, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do this.” He’d say, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you on top of him, feeling his rock-hard body against yourself.

“Yuma! I can’t sleep on top of you.”

“You did it all those other nights. What’s the problem with it now?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Oh really? Then why did I wake up with all that drool on me in the morning.”

“I don’t drool!”

“Quit lying!” He’d say, clutching your ass to tease you further.

If you’re the type to get cold, he warms you up but he hogs the blanket but will say that it’s you that is stealing it all the time.

Since Yuma’s quite tall, he obviously weighs a lot more than most people, which causes a big shift in the bed when he turns.

When this happens, you usually end up rolling to where he sinks his weight upon and crash into him, and if he’s asleep, he’s not even awakened by you crashing into him--like, he doesn’t even flinch and only continues to snore.

He sometimes like to put a leg of yours, and when this happens, it’s hard to get out.

If he has an arm wrapped around your waist, good luck getting out of that.

You’ve tried, but it honestly never works.

In fact, if you try to get out of his grip while he’s sleeping, he just tightens it due to instinct since his dormant mind thinks that you’re slipping out.

Always tells you to not fall of the bed, but there have been times where you’ve found yourself on the floor in the morning due to these restless nights.

If you fall asleep first, he’ll look over at you to check if you’re sleeping, or mostly if you’re drooling, and will wave a hand over your face to see if you’re actually there.

If your hair is in your face, you can count on him to adjust it.

Thinks you look cute when you sleep.

“Heh, now I don’t have to hear your smart mouth until morning.” He’d tease, a smirk on his face as he’d fall asleep sooner than later as well.

Subaru:

Since he’s a pure blood vampire, he mostly sleeps during the day, but will also sleep in the middle of the night if he feels like it.

He prefers to sleep in his coffin but doesn’t always since you’re around.

He’ll act like he’s annoyed about sleeping next to you, but secretly, he loves the fact of you sleeping next to him since it gives him a sense of comfort, something he isn’t too familiar with.

Plus, we all know it’s all about him having the excuse to be close to your ass xDD.

Likes to pull you into him, and prefers if you’re facing him when he does this.

But loves it even more when your back is facing him and he can feel your ass press up against him.

Mostly because he’s an ass man xDD.

He'll share a few soft kisses with you, or might have a small makeout with you depending on what he's in the mood for.

Might place a small kiss on your forehead while you’re sleeping in hopes that you don’t wake up.

Since he sleeps very close to you, he likes to have his legs entangled with yours.

Secretly loves it when you fall asleep holding hands--like he loves this feeling.

If you’re curled up against him and are face to face, he likes being able to view your complexion.

Will move any stray locks from your face since he wants a clear view, causing a slight tint of rose to rise to your cheeks.

If he’s in a certain mood tho, things are a lot different.

He’ll whisper lewd things into your ears to make you blush and get a reaction out of you.

If you’re wearing sleep shorts he’ll mess with the band of your underwear with his hand to annoy you.

He’ll even go as far as traveling his hand up your leg to cup your crotch area.

“Stop it!”

“Stop it!” He’d mock, a smirk on his face, only finding your plea funny, leading you to playfully hit him.

Apart from him being horny on some days/nights, you two also have wholesome moments too.

Depending on the day/night, you guys might share deep and meaningful conversations that lean into being emo.

Subaru likes to act like he’s dominant and in control, but would seriously be into being the little spoon.

However, this is only on occasion, and it usually happens on day/nights where he wants to be held.

He finds the bed to be a place where he can open up to you about a lot of things, and since you’re his s/o, you two have shared quite a lot together about each other.

Even though he’ll act like he’s annoyed, he likes it when you kiss him unexpectedly.

It honestly melts him on the inside.

Likes it when you run your hands through his hair and smile at him while doing so.

It honestly gives him such a great feeling since it’s hard for him to open up and accept affection of any sort.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Hi love! I spun the wheels for your 3k celebration and here are my results :)

- one night stand/anonymous sex

- bryce langley

- i’m here to fuck your brains out

- i’m not here for small talk

- tell me why i just found them in your drawer

Ok, ok, ok. I can so see this for Bryce! And I was a little unsure how I was going to fit in the third prompt but I think I'm happy with my solution.

Straight smut and semi soft!dark (non-con panty stealing, stalking), so no minors!!!

God, you hated charity events.

If you had to listen to one more rich asshole talk your ear off about the plight of the white man you were going to jump off a balcony. The complete lack of self awareness as they wrote giant checks to help feed starving children in third world countries would have been laughable if it wasn’t so depressing.

At least there was an open bar, which you were taking full advantage of. You weren’t entirely sure how many whiskey sours you had tossed back, but you were actually laughing while some salt and pepper asshole who was definitely having a midlife crisis regaled you with stories of sailing around the world. Maybe you should slow down.

“Christ’s sake, Dick, you lying to another pretty thing about sailing to Brazil?” You felt a warm hand on the small of your back and turned to see a very pretty, younger man smirking at the dumbass who was trying to impress you. “He barely made it to South Carolina before running back with his tail between his legs.”

“Oh no!” You fully turned away from the older man with a sloppy grin, placing your hand on the new guy’s chest as you giggled. “That’s so pathetic.”

“Uh, excuse me.” Dick did not look happy with this turn of events, pouting when you glanced at him sideways.

“Go back to your disappointed wife, Dick.” The way his eyes were raking over you made you shiver, arousal flooding your panties as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“It’s Y/N.” You gasped softly when he stepped closer, his hand running up your spine until he was running his fingers through your hair. “Yours?”

“Bryce.” His lips brushed against yours and your knees buckled, your hands gripping his lapels to keep yourself upright. Yeah, you definitely should have slowed down. You had never come apart so fast for anyone in your whole, kinda slutty adult life.

“Hi Bryce.” How were you supposed to focus on anything when his mouth was tracing your jaw like that? “Um, enjoying your night so far?”

“Listen, gorgeous, I’m not here for small talk.” He pressed you even closer and leaned forward so he could murmur right in your ear. “I’m here to fuck your brains out.”

“Oh.” Your voice was upsettingly small. “Cool.”

Neither of you said anything for the next two hours. Not when he had you pinned to the wall in the corridor and devoured your mouth with his while the two of you dry humped each other. Not when he drove the two of you through the city in his Porsche at an inadvisable speed while you swallowed greedily around his cock. Not even when he ate you out like a starving man while you were sprawled across the stairs to the second level of his penthouse apartment, but that was mostly because he had shoved your panties in your mouth to gag you.

You finally made it to his bedroom and he ripped your dress down your shoulders, leaning back to let you step out of it while he worked on stripping off his tuxedo. The tiny huff you let out when he tossed you on the bed made him grin, each small wanton sound that feel from your lips only serving to make his cock ache even more. And, god, what a fantastic cock it was. You practically started drooling when he finally stepped out of his pants and you got a good look at it, it had been to dark in the car for you to really appreciate just how yummy he was.

“Wait, Bryce.” You placed a hand on his chest when he bent over you, not wanting to lose yourself in another one of his kisses before it was too late. “Condom?”

“Are you fucking serious?” He looked slightly annoyed when his eyes met yours, but you weren’t backing down from this one. “You didn’t seem to care about a condom when you were swallowing my cum an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well I can’t get pregnant from swallowing.” You murmured, trying not to moan when you felt his shaft ghost over your clit. 

“Aww, pretty thing like you isn’t on birth control?” The smirk he was giving you was absolutely wicked. “That seems awful irresponsible.”

“Bryce, ah, shit.” His mouth started tracing your throat and made it very difficult to stay firm in your stance. “I’m serious, if you don’t have a condom, I’m pulling the plug.”

“C’mon gorgeous, I just wanna feel you.” He flicked his tongue out to lap up an errant bead of sweat and grinned at the whine you let out. “What if I pull out?”

“Oh god.” You were practically suffocating from the attention he was lavishing on you, finally grabbing his hair and yanking his head up so you could look him in the eye and regain some control of the situation. “No condom, no pussy.”

“Ugh, fine!” He pouted when he rolled off you, pulling his nightstand drawer open and drawing out a small foil packet. “Happy?”

You just grinned at him when he knelt between your legs again, brushing you fingers over his nipples and running your knees up his sides while he rolled the condom over his length and scowled at you. That scowl disappeared pretty fast when he gripped your hips tight and pulled you down on his length, his eyelids fluttering as a low groan left his throat while he curled over you. 

When his hips finally met yours you dropped your head back against the mattress, locking your heels together at the small of his back and letting him nip at your throat as he started moving his hips. It was just enough to drive you crazy, but all you wanted was for him to fuck you like an animal until you were screaming.

“Goddamn it.” You dug your fingers into his scalp and yanked his face back up to yours. “I thought you said you were gonna fuck my brains out.”

The only warning you had was his feral snarl and the way his pupils dilated even further and then every thought was flying out of your head when he bent you backwards and shoved your chest into his face, his teeth digging into your soft flesh and making you scream while his hips started slamming into you violently. 

His teeth were marring the soft curves of your chest as he fucked into you viciously, the tip of his cock punching you in the cervix with each brutal shove. It barely took anything for you to come apart with a sharp cry, your vision whiting out as your entire body tightened around him. The way he was holding you to him had your body bent in a series of odd angles, making every wave of pleasure that coursed through your system feel a thousand times more intense. 

Your orgasm didn’t even faze him, his hips still pistoning into yours at a wild rhythm that pushed the breath out of your lungs until you were a panting mess. He just kept sucking and biting at your breasts, the skin of your chest slick with your sweat and his saliva as your cunt throbbed around him.

One of his hands moved under your hip and tilted you so he could somehow drive into you even further and a coil you hadn’t even realized was gathering snapped. Your body jerked frantically underneath him, your pussy clenching around him so hard he couldn’t stop himself from filling the condom with a muffled growl. 

“That good enough for you, gorgeous?” He was grinning wickedly when he lifted his face to gaze at you. “C’mon now honey, did I fuck you stupid?”

“No.” You panted, returning his smile when he moved to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “But maybe we should go another round so you can try again.”

“Oh, I knew bringing you home was a good idea!” He called from the bathroom. “I’m gonna turn that pussy out.”

You were still smiling when you moved to grab another condom from the nightstand, your face freezing when you got a look at the pair of soiled panties that was nestled inside. That wasn’t totally weird, lot’s of guys probably kept little souvenirs from their sexual conquests. 

What was weird was that they looked an awful lot like the panties you thought your washer had eaten a few weeks ago, and when you picked them up to examine them closer you felt bile rise in your throat when you spotted the tiny rip you had told yourself no one would notice because of the pattern of the lace.

“Bryce.” You rose on unsteady legs and staggered to the bathroom, confusion and fury coursing through your veins. “I’ve been missing these for weeks, tell me why I just found them in your drawer.”

“Ah, fuck.” He only looked mildly perturbed when he got a look at what you had clutched in your fist. “Why’d you have to go snooping, baby?”

“Don’t call me baby, how did you get these?” Your chest was starting to feel tight as panic took over your system. “Have you been in my house?”

“Do you really need me to answer that, Y/N?” 

You realized you didn’t. You’d noticed weird shit happening for a few weeks. Things not being where you’d left them. Pieces of clothing missing. Weird deliveries of flowers or fancy pastries from a supposed secret admirer that you just chalked up to the slightly creepy guy who had been flirting with you at work.

“But, why?” You had never even seen Bryce before tonight, this didn’t make sense.

“I saw your photo from the save the polar bears, or whatever, event last month in the Times.” His shrug was dismissive as he started stalking towards you. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful looking so annoyed at one of those things. Mostly because they’re all hookers.” He didn’t seem to mind that you were in the middle of an anxiety attack, wrapping an arm around your waist and shushing you softly as you started to cry. “But you weren’t a hooker. You were a little spitfire. Everything I found out about you just made me want you more, which reminds me, you’re gonna need to make some serious updates to your online security settings.”

You were sobbing into his chest now, only barely registering what he was saying as he moved a hand up to run through your hair absentmindedly.

“I still remember the first time I was in your house. I admit, I lost myself a little once I was in that cute little bedroom of yours, thought for sure you were gonna notice how messed up your sheets were after I jerked off in your bed.” You cringed against him at that admission, you were pretty sure you remembered that day. “It was so hard to keep myself from just taking you right away, but I wanted to make it organic. You know, have our relationship grow and evolve the right way.” He gripped your chin and tilted your head back so he could glare into your eyes. “Then you had to go and ruin it.”

You whimpered when he suddenly lifted you and started to carry you to the bed again, your body frozen in shock. He basically threw you onto the bed, the look of rage on his face softening slightly when he watched you curl around yourself then climbed in next to you. 

“Oh, shh, it’s ok, honey.” He cooed against your hair, stroking your arm softly as you continued to cry. “I forgive you. I’m gonna make you so happy.”

[sinner-as-saint]

Can’t Get Enough

F-boy!Steve x Reader AU

Run-through: Despite all the warnings and words of caution, you still get involved with the most arrogant and popular fuckboy on campus…

Themes: fuckboy!steve, smut, fluff?

“He’s bad news.”

“He’s like, the most arrogant person ever. Walks around like he owns the place.”

“Screw Rogers honestly, he just wants to fuck everyone and everything.”

“Him and his friends are exactly the kind of people you should stay away from at all times.”

Words of cautions, warning you against Steve Rogers – the notorious, popular, drop dead gorgeous guy on campus – came flooding in from everywhere. But did you listen? No.

How could you when all he did was walk around with that god damn smirk on, and his irresistible deep blue eyes which reminded you of the bluest of seas on a sunny day, and those tight shirts which; showing off his perfect, muscular body.

And that god damn baseball cap worn backwards – that made you weak almost each time you ran into him at the coffee shop, at a party or rarely in the library. Although he look equally as delicious without it, the hat definitely added on to his bad boy charm.

And secretly, we all love a bad boy, don’t why? So despite all the warnings, you fell for his charm and his boyish manner – falling head first – the minute he approached you at a party one night. It was a uni after party, so it was packed with horny young adults – including yourself.

Steve walked over to you with a seductive smirk on his pretty face. His smooth pick-up lines, and cheesy jokes and his impeccable body won you over in less than a few minutes. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow, deciding to play just a little hard to get. Because truth is, you were ready to get low, down and gritty right there and then. “Yeah no, I’m not fucking you tonight Rogers.” You smirked and walked away. Needless to say, he followed you like a lost puppy.

“Come on, Y/N.” he faked pouted and everything when he cornered you playfully near the stairs. “I’ll be so good to you.” he whispered the last part in your ear. And you would be lying if you said your whole body didn’t feel all hot and bothered.

You shook your head and tried walking away again. He grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. “Let’s go for a drive then, away from all this.”

Your common sense left and you agreed.

He did take you for a drive, in his expensive car – daddy’s money you figured. And he also fucked you in the backseat of his car.

Legs spread apart, hands holding each side of your waist as you lowered yourself down on his thick, hard cock. The moment you had him inside you, he threw his head back and let out a loud, shameless moan, “Fuck…” his voice deep and raspy with lust; which only made you want to fuck him even more.

A lot of things gave away that he had done this before. The way he knew how to maneuver around, how to position your body, where to kiss you to make you lose your mind, where to hold you to get you going… but you didn’t care. The need to have him was pressing and all your mind could focus on is making both of you cum.

“Come on doll, don’t be shy. Ride me,” he grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer, biting down on your lower lip gently. “Ride me big cock like you know you want to. Show me how bad you want it…” he trailed off in another loud moan as you lifted your body up and sank down on him again. This cock stretching you out and filling you up each time. You could feel him deep inside you, you could see the bulge which formed at your lower abdomen as he filled you up.

You threw your head back and moaned as well, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you quickened your pace. Steve lifted his hips occasionally, fucking into you and reaching deeper inside you but he mostly let you do all the work.

“Fuck… you feel so fucking good…” he moaned, biting down on your neck, and shoulder. “So wet, and warm and tight for me.” He whispered against your skin.

At some point, realizing that you were purposely slowing down to tease him each time, he growled and grabbed you by the hips and just pounded into you; lifting his hips up and fucking you hard and fast. You felt him stretch you out like no one ever did before. He felt so snug and so big inside you; you were losing your mind

Okay but fuckboy!steve would make you cum like no one else. Just absolutely railing you in the backseat of his car; not bothering about how loud you got, or how warm and steamy it got inside his car; he’d just be at it until you’re a whimpering mess, filled with his cum. One orgasm overlapping with another, toes curling, voice hoarse, Steve would own all of you in that moment, and you’d happily let him.

Yet, after that steamy night you expected him to pretend like he never saw met you. Ghost you like he did other girls, but no. He found you in the library, and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek. You were just as surprised as the rest of your friends when they saw that interaction.

You two never called it a relationship. But everyone else knew that you two were spending every day and night together.

Okay but fuckboy!steve would be so awkward about dates; it would be borderline funny.

“Do you wanna like, do something after class today?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, movie or something? We can grab dinner afterwards. Or go to the beach. You pick.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

He’d blush and try to hide his face. “What, no! I just wanna hang out.”

Hanging out with fuckboy!steve meant going places and fucking as much as you could without getting caught.

Sex in the library, after he snuck the two of you in after closing time.

Sex in his car, like every weekend.

Sex in bathrooms at parties; in the pool after everyone’s passed out drunk, on balconies, and in whichever bed you could find.

He never called himself your boyfriend, but he was ready to fight whoever the fuck even dared to flirt with you, or even look at you the wrong way. Even his friends found it unusual. Sam and Bucky often passed flirty comments at you, and they both always received a smack on the head for it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam always complained about his friend’s protective behavior. “It’s not like she’s your girlfriend or anything.”

Steve would roll his eyes, “Shut up Sam. She’s mine.”

Being Steve’s girl would include;

Receiving dirty texts when you’re in class. The kind which made you lose focus and send your mind straight to the gutter.

Going on long drives to nowhere in particular and making out in his car.

Stealing and wearing his jackets and hoodies, and have every girl stare at you in envy. Or wearing his baseball caps when you’re out sometimes.

Keeping up with his moodiness.

Teasing him about how you’d tell his friends that he secretly loves watching Disney movies with you.

Him bragging to his friends about how good you are in bed, and once you caught him and didn’t speak to him for a whole week and he was miserable. Incessant calls and messages, and begging for forgiveness.

Arguments leading to hardcore, hot sex where you’re both just fucking the frustration out of each other. Steve secretly liked you a little feisty. And you liked it when he was all rough and mean in bed.

Sitting on his lap, keeping his cock warm while he plays video games. And all the grunts and sighs of victory leaving his lips would only make you want to fuck him even more.

“Hey, sit still.” He’d whisper once he catches you trying to grind your hips against him.

You’d whine at how you were right on the edge; his cock stretching you out, snug inside you, throbbing in need against your walls. All you needed him to do is make you cum already. “Steve please.”  

He’d chuckle and smirk. “No. You’ve been a brat all day. Bitching about how I don’t give you enough attention and I don’t care about you. And brats don’t get to cum so easily. Now sit still, I’ll be done in like half an hour or so.”

Okay but imagine fuckboy!steve being secretly a softie who loves cuddles and loves it when you baby him, shower him with cuddles and kisses. But then around his friends he’s that guy who pretends he’s all tough and manly.

But when he’s with you it’s all like; “What are you doing over there? Come here and give me cuddles, I’m cold.” He’d pout.

And you knew he was nothing but trouble, but you couldn’t get enough of him.

[aiiwa]

BEAUTIFUL IN BLUE — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff / smut

⤷ warnings: cursing, mature content and themes. smut: fingering (vaginal and anal), unprotected sex. kind of proof read but if you see a typo...no you didn’t.

⤷ word count: 6.4k

— a/n: set in the “FRESHMAN YEAR” universe, and is a continuation of “PRETTY IN PINK” - which i suggest reading before this. for those who wanted some real action after pretty in pink, this is for you <3.

a couple of weeks had passed since the incident. at least that’s what you had been addressing the day you had sent photos of you modelling your new lingerie to iwa, as. things had seemingly returned back to normal, photo unmentioned, and still your steady friendship continued with the oblivious brunette.

and now november had announced its arrival, with your boots beginning to disappear under crunchy oceans of cherry, merigold and bronze, and the potent, musky-sweet smell of browning leaves swirling around the air. it was the tell tale sign that fall was well and truly here, and what better of a time to drive out of town for the day, and celebrate momijigari.

at least that’s what you had told yourself before, what was meant to be a two hour drive, turned into over three hours spent in a car with the oversized toddlers know as your best friends.

“i’m hungry~!” whined toddler number one from behind you.

mattsun outstretched his long arms, reaching around the passenger seat you sat in, in an attempt to steal more of your snacks. you had made sure everyone knew to bring their own food and water, double- no, triple checked everyone was on the same page. but of course it was no surprise that mattsun was the only one to turn up empty handed. so when his grabby hands slapped against your cheeks for the nth time, you angled your face and snapped your jaw right on his thumb.

mattsun shrieks, jolting back away from you. “fucking hell, y/n!”

twisting around in your seat, you smirk, watching as he checked over the distinct bite mark on his red thumb.

“ha, serves you right.” pipes the figure slouched next to mattsun in the back seat. “ugh i need to take a leak.”

the peach-haired, number two toddler was none other than makki. he’d woken up cranky that morning, and it only seemed to worsen when he’d been shoved into the back with the chatty mattsun. within the first ten minutes he had tried to suffocate the latter with his pillow, and when that didn’t work, he took to blasting music in his headphones and facing himself towards the window for majority of the ride. only engaging with everyone when you began snacking, and he had decided to drink all of his juice just to spite mattsun.

“oi, iwa! control your gremlin!”

“shut up.”

“no, you shut up! you didn’t even want to share your juice with me!”

“i will literally piss on you right now.”

losing interest in the bickering duo behind you, your attention diverted to the third, brooding toddler beside you in the driver’s seat. you had spent majority of the drive admiring the way iwa handled himself behind the wheel; the flex of his arms under the fitted cotton of his blue long sleeve as he turned the wheel, and how the pads of his long fingers would tap against the worn leather to the beat of whatever tune began playing on shuffle. yet out of everything, it was when iwa took to mumbling the lyrics of whichever cheesy love song you were belting out to, that you found yourself falling even deeper into the pit of your affections for him.

throughout the drive, iwa had mostly managed to ignore the others’ antics - with your intervention of course. but with how tight his grip on the steering wheel had become from the squabbling in the backseat, and the dark look brewing under his cap; it was clear how close he was to losing his cool.

extending your arm out in front of him, you offer the hershey bar in your hand, brushing it against the pout of his bottom lip. iwa’s olive eyes glance questioningly at you from the side, to which you only offer a small grin.

“take a bite.” you order. the, ‘you look like you need it,’ is silent, but obvious in the way you prod the treat at his closed mouth.

“mmph-”

his eyes returned to the road before him as he parted his lips, pink tongue making a brief appearance before he took a small bite of your chocolate. you attempt to retract your arm, until iwa moves one hand to grab your wrist; bringing you back to him to take a bigger bite of the sweet, thumb rubbing against the inner side of your palm.

the corner of his mouth tugs upwards, as he mumbles a small, “thank you.”

heat floods your cheeks, and you catch yourself before you drop the chocolate on his lap. distracted by the deafening beat of your heart pounding in your ears, you don’t notice the silence that fills the car, or the not-so subtle click of mattsun snapping a photo of the two of you in the front and sending it to the group chat. you’re pulled out of your slight trance, by a flash of peach entering your field of view.

“that was disgusting...ly sweet. and now i suddenly need to puke, so hurry it up would you.”

as makki leans back, mattsun is quick to replace him, popping his head between you and iwa.

“don’t just ignore me, y/n, feed me chocolate too!”

rolling your eyes, you shove the bar in his mouth; the rest of you three laugh as he falls back into his seat, all the while he happily munches on the treat.

a little time passes before iwa’s flicking his indicator, signalling his turn into the free parking space outside the nature reserve. he shifts the gear into park before everyone piles out - makki walking over to wrap his thick, fossil grey scarf around your neck, the cashmere soft against your skin; while mattsun offers to carry your little backpack, only sending you a sly smile when you question his reasoning for taking the bag from you. you hug iwa’s offered arm to your chest, as the four of you start trekking along the uneven pathways leading towards lake kawaguchi. the walk isn’t necessarily long, but none of you are in a rush - strolling leisurely and enjoying the atmosphere.

and when you finally reach the end of your walk, you still yourself, awestruck by the beauty surrounding you. the glassy lake shimmering under the afternoon rays, crisp maple leaves painted red, swaying to the breezy flow of the cool wind, and the tinkling laughter from young children running about on the golden fields - filled your chest with warmth.

“it’s so beautiful here.”

your voice comes out as a whisper for only iwa’s ears to hear; with makki off to relieve himself and mattsun trailing after him, acting as if you didn’t see him rummaging through your snacks. iwa only hums in agreement, missing the way he hasn’t even acknowledged the view, his gaze set solely on you.

this is what the tradition of momijigari meant; taking time away from your busy schedule to spend a moment to enjoy this small piece of life. and of course, capturing the moment with some of your favourite people on camera. so when you busied yourself with taking photos with the towering men, it really shouldn’t have surprised you when your phone began to buzz with an incoming facetime call.

sliding your thumb across the screen to answer the call, you’re greeted by the sight of oikawa’s toothy grin; illuminated by a bright light you knew had to be artificial, since it was nearing two a.m. in argentina.

“yahoo, y/n-chan! you didn’t think i’d miss out on a photoshoot did you? i already missed out on you feeding me chocolate!” you shoot an embarrassed glanced at iwa, noticing the slight furrow between his brows and the faint dust of pink across his cheeks.

“photoshoot…?” a confused makki mumbles behind you.

mattsun leans over your shoulder, shoving his face in the camera. “oi, isn’t it late for you?”

you raise a single shaped brow as oikawa scoffs, brushing his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. “the pretty face of this group has finally blessed you, and that’s all you have to say?” mattsun scrunches his face in offence, as oikawa continues. “besides, i may be in a different country but i refuse to miss out!”

and it was because of his soft pout that you found yourself posing with your phone by your face, making sure to catch oikawa’s best angles; having long given up on questioning the setter and his antics. the so-called photoshoot came to an abrupt end later on when a tired and cranky oikawa yawned, apparently ruining another photo according to him, and iwa’s finger just so happened to slip and disconnect the video call.

“he’s stubborn.” was all he had said when you, makki and mattsun side eyed him. “we should head back home before it gets late.”

the drive back to tokyo seemed relatively faster than the journey to fujikawaguchiko. it was as if your body went into autopilot as you sat behind the wheel, this time taking responsibility as the driver while the boys napped; only coming to when you were parking iwa’s truck into their apartment’s parking lot, moments after the sun had set.

it was a silent and unanimous decision to order take out for dinner, the four of you seated around the black walnut dining table to dig in. meal times with the boys were hectic, and competitive for the most part - it was survival of the fittest. you were often being challenged by mattsun - tonight having lost the last few gyoza to him.

though it became obvious who the real loser was when mattsun flopped his head onto your lap, while you were lounging out on the settee.

“y/n~” mattsun drawled out. “rub my belly, it hurts!”

“no.”

“please, y/n~! my one and only best friend, the moon to my stars, the curry to my rice-”

he releases a satisfied sigh once you reach a hand out to press your palm against his stomach, rubbing soothing circles to stop his whining; and you catch makki roll his beady eyes at the two of you, as he flicks through suggested films to watch on netflix. iwa strolls into the living room, pillows and a comforter stacked in his arms; laying them neatly on the couch he shares with you on movie nights.

“oh, iwa, could you send me the photos please?” he nods his head once, barely glancing over at you and mattsun; pulling out his phone and dropping himself unceremoniously across the adjacent sofa. “thank you.” you call out once your phone pings with several notifications.

still rubbing mattsun’s stomach, your free hand casually scrolls through the pictures from today.

you snicker to yourself at the first series of chaotic images. a selfie with smushed faces pressed together and a phone-sized oikawa tucked right under your jaw, a blurry pic of the boys throwing vermillion leaves at each other, and even a timed snapshot where you, mattsun and makki had leapt on iwa’s back - your legs wrapped around his torso, while makki squished you from behind, and mattsun had flopped himself on top of the pile. there was even a shot of the aftermath, your phone and oikawa somehow surviving the tumble, and a deadpanned iwa staring straight at the camera as the three of you behind him cackled with your heads thrown back.

at least a few wholesome pictures had been captured. a sweet group photo with all of you huddled by each other in front of a vibrant maple tree; you and iwa were flanked by mattsun and makki respectively, as oikawa was held between you and iwa like a prized trophy. even a rare moment where makki and mattsun had their arms hooked around each other, with easy going grins on both of their faces, had been caught.

butterflies erupted in your tummy, fluttering about once you swiped to the next photo. it was a candid shot of you and iwa standing by the brilliant blue lake front. you were leaning into his side, holding two leaves at the top of your head to mimic cat ears, face tilted upwards. giggling, your eyes were shut, and only now can you see that you missed the soft smile iwa donned looking down at you.

it was almost painful to admit that together you looked like a couple, and it didn’t help that most times you even acted as such. sneaking a glance at the man in question, you watch him chatting quietly to makki, gripping your phone tightly in your grasp at the sound of him laughing at whatever snide comment escaped your peach-haired friend. you couldn’t help but sigh, being in love with one of your best friends only got harder each day.

unknowingly you had already swiped to the last photo iwa had sent, so when you return your gaze the screen, you shriek; dropping your phone flat on mattsun’s face.

“um, what the fuck, ow.”

iwa’s sharp eyes shoot towards you instantly. “what’s wrong?”

you only shake your head, warmth filling your cheeks and an itch you just can’t scratch prickling under your skin. makki only shrugs, shifting his attention back to the television. iwa is more hesitant, the feeling of his olive eyes giving you a once over does nothing to calm your nerves from being sent into overdrive. when he finally turns away, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“ugh, what even had you going even more crazy than usual all of a sudden?” mattsun groans from your lap. as he reaches to lift your phone off of his face, you’re quick to snatch the device away.

“n-nothing!” he only raises a thick brow at your defensive tone, before grabbing your hand to continue your ministrations.

glancing around the room, you pull the screen close to your face; taking in the photo, you felt your mouth run dry. 

there was no way this could have been sent to you on purpose - because the sight of a shirtless iwa at his second home, the gym, was definitely not taken at lake kawaguchi. anyone with eyes could tell how ripped iwa was under his fitted shirts. but over the past few months you had noticed that he’d run off to the gym more often; and it was obvious in the way his clothes struggled to stretch over his bulked up build these days.

it was a mid work out, mirror selfie; iwa’s dark, mocha coloured hair plastered to his forehead, bare chest glistening from the sweat dripping down from his neck. he was seated on the rubber floor, one long, tanned leg stretched out in front of him with the other bent at the knee, elbow resting loosely against his leg. your eyes greedily took in the defined dips of his toned stomach, dark snail trail leading downwards to the evident bulge of his grey shorts; the hem cutting into the flexed muscles of his thighs.

the heat pooling between your thighs as your imagination ran wild was just about to peak when-

“oi, y/n.” you almost jump, locking your screen, and blinking away the dazed look in your eyes. when your vision cleared, you found makki standing in front of you. “we’re gonna watch the movie now.”

“oh, right.”

mattsun rolls off your lap with a groan, complaining to makki about who is gonna rub his belly now, while you stand up. shuffling over to iwa, he stretches before shifting and making room for you to squeeze in next to him.

“c’mere.” he mumbles, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side.

the beat of your pounding heart is almost deafening in your ears, you’re near to hyperventilating, as your mind is sent into overdrive. the two of you were always cuddling platonically during movies, ever since the one time you had complained about being cold in their apartment. but this time was different. ‘is this how he felt when you had sent a picture of your new lingerie?’ you think to yourself. you spend the next hour deep in your thoughts, completely lost to whatever is happening in the sci-fi film makki had chosen, and when the end credits start rolling on the screen - iwa announces he’ll drop you off back to your dorm.

it’s close to midnight; so makki wishes you a goodnight, as a sleepy mattsun rests against his shoulder, making grabby hands for you not to go. you wave as you leave, following after iwa who opens the passenger side door of his truck, helping you jump up into the seat, before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side.

your dorm isn’t too far from their apartment complex, so you’re not surprised at how quick the ride is. the street is unusually busy, yet completely void of any roaming students. and with no private parking for students, iwa’s forced to pull up near a secluded cluster of tall trees, a bit away from the dorm entrance.

“i’ll walk you in.” iwa says, leaving no room for argument. he reaches for his phone, as a message flashes across his screen. “oh, oikawa asked why you’ve been ignoring his messages.”

“huh?” you flip your own phone in your hand, watching as the facial recognition unlocks and suddenly iwa’s gym selfie is on full display for the both of you. it takes a moment for you to process the situation, and all you can manage is a simple, “oh,” as you resist the urge to fling your phone out of the window.

“nice photo.” iwa pipes up, you don’t even try to look at him, but the smirk in his tone is evident. “where’d you get it?”

his question throws you off, and you’re quick to turn your head to narrow your eyes at him. “what do you mean? iwa, you literally sent it to me?!”

“really? shit i must have done it by accident.”

“an accident?”

“yeah, like what you did to me. remember?”

you gasp, moving back almost as if you’ve been struck, while iwa simply laughs at your expression. a full on belly laugh that has him throwing his head back, illuminated by the glow emitting through his open moon roof. you should’ve been dwelling in the embarrassment that came with him turning your own words back on you - yet you found your own laughter mixing in with his. only when both of you had calmed down a bit, did an electrified silence fill the car.

fiddling with your phone in your lap, the strands of hair curtaining the sides of your face, is brushed aside and tucked behind the cuff of your ear. glancing at iwa, the corner of his mouth is pulled up into a fond smile as his thumb caresses the shell of your ear.

“sorry for teasing you, pretty lady. couldn’t help myself after you sent me that picture looking all pretty in pink.”

“i…” words escape you as his large hand trails down the side of your cheek. you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to do something - it’s almost at the tip of your tongue, before you grab at his wrist and whisper a, “fuck it.”

leaning over the middle, you reach a hand to hold the back of his head as your lips press against his own. lips even softer than they appeared, the lingering taste of his wild cherry lip balm, the same one you owned, tasted sweeter than you remembered. after a moment, of the kiss not being reciprocated, you pull back.

“just had to do it once.” you murmur, lips still tingling.

iwa’s minty breath fans across your face as he releases an airy sigh. “then let’s do it a second time.”

this time his hand wraps loosely around your neck, pulling you towards him, and slanting his mouth over yours. you moan into the kiss as his tongue darts out to tease your lower lip. leaning into him, you almost keel forward as this time he pulls away. slightly breathless, you open your eyes to take in the barely restrained lust and adoration in his handsome features, mimicking you’re own.

“third time’s a charm, right?”

the devilish grin iwa gives you in response to your innocently posed question, has you climbing over the centre console. at the same time he’s rolling the chair back away from the leather steering wheel, making space for you to slide onto his lap and straddle him. molding your lips to his, the feeling of your tongue exploring his mouth and you grinding into him slowly; has him release a hiss as his hands grab at the fullness of your ass.

tugging at his collar, your words are muffled against his mouth. “take this off, now.”

he chuckles at your demand, pulling the hem of his shirt past the bulk of his shoulders and over his head - blindly throwing it to the backseat. you drag your eyes over the sight of his broad chest, taking in every delicious dip of his stomach; leaning forward, your tongue licks a tentative stripe along his neck, that has iwa’s breath hitch before peppering wet kisses along his skin. your hands roam around his toned body, while his own larger ones slide under your top; a searing hot trail following his exploration of your body. he draws small circles at your hips, leading up to hold your waist and bring your even closer against him.

“your turn, baby.” he whispers to you, fisting the bottom half of your top. “be fair to me, i wanna see more of you.”

sitting up straight in his lap, you slip the thin top over your head; following his suit in flinging it to the backseat. your hair brushed past your bare shoulders, exposed skin feeling the chill of the autumn night; but the look in iwa’s olive eyes, irradiated by the moonlight streaming in from the uncovered moonroof, was scorching hot. rough palms, flat against your smooth skin, slid over your tummy, teasing the sheer mesh of your bra, before playing with the baby blue ribbons on the straps.

“y/n.” iwa groans out, tracing the floral stitching and feeling the hardened nubs of your nipples under the fabric. with the moon haloing behind you, the way he stares up at you is so raw and intense, it has you frozen in anticipation. “you look so fucking beautiful in blue.”

he doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches behind you to unhook your bra, freeing your breasts from its confines. iwa’s quick to take a pebbled nub into his hot mouth, suckling as his fingers tweak the other. your fingers thread through his dark locks, when he moves and switches his focus; a lewd string of saliva dragging from your nipple to his pink tongue. stuttered grinding from his mouth distracting you, had you reaching a hand between each other to palm his erection - wanting to ease some of the tension. but iwa’s quick to snatch your hand away.

“iwa...let me touch you?”

releasing you from his mouth, he kisses the pout from your lips. “no, baby, don’t worry about me.”

“why not?” you whine.

“i wanna make you feel real good, gotta prep you for me first. is that okay with you, baby?” he only smiles softly as you start to relax against him. “i need to know if you’re okay with this. care about you so much, i just want you to be comfortable. let me know if you wanna stop right now.”

“no, h-haji...please, i don’t want to stop. i want you so bad. i need you, ah-”

your consent was all he needed before he pulls you back into him, kissing you so slow you feel dizzy; his hands travel low on your body, working the button of your jeans, as your fingers dig into his shoulders. when he breaks away from you, he helps you slip out of the dark denim, tugging each pant leg off until all you wearing is the stringy, baby blue panties that leaves little to the imagination.

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” iwa groans out, rubbing a hand across his face as you giggle lightly. while you hover over him, he quickly strips off his pants, kicking them off onto the floor before grabbing onto your hips. “flip around on me, baby. that’s right, face the front.”

settling down onto his lap, the thin cotton of his briefs does nothing to hide the print of his hard-on he’s sporting underneath. and with your back pressed to his warm chest, you roll your hips teasingly into him.

“come on, haji...let me help you.” you huff, continuing to grind against him.

“oi, cut it out.”

his grip on your hips tighten in warning, and you gasp as he manhandles you easily. shifting you around so that the heel of your left foot digs into his thigh, the other secured at the edge of the leather wheel; he has your legs wide open. before you can even think about any stragglers catching you so vulnerable; iwa hooks his arm under your thigh, pads of his fingers brushing over your clothed pussy.

“haaaa~” you breathe out, hips jerking into his touch.

“fuck baby, your panties are soaked.” he continues to tease you over the drenched crotch of your panties. iwa rubs lazy circles, casually sliding under the material to play with your silk folds. his touches have you yearning for more, as you feel yourself slowly going insane as he starts to coat his fingers in your slick.

“mmm...touch me, haji...properly.”

wriggling around in his embrace, you keen once he pulls his hand away from you; holding his fingers before you, showing off how they glisten so prettily in under the moon. and then you watch over your shoulder as he leads his hand to his mouth, and licks his fingers clean.

“you taste so fucking sweet.” he’s quick to bring his fingers back to your drooling pussy, coating his fingers once again, but this time bringing them to your own lips. “here, have a taste for yourself.”

opening your mouth, iwa wastes no time pressing his long digits flat against your tongue. sucking on his fingers, you savour the saccharine essence of your pussy; moaning at your own flavour sending your tastebuds into overdrive. iwa hums, heated gaze taking in the way you take his fingers in your mouth; he slowly pulls them back out with a pop - smiling softly at the way you stare at him, all wide-eyed and wanton.

“should we get you out of these messy panties now, baby?”

at your eager nods, iwa presses a kiss to your shoulder as he has you lift your hips up; slipping your soaked panties off, and placing them on the passenger seat side the two of you. sitting you back down against him, he hooks both arms around the undersides of your thighs, grabbing at your soft flesh and spreading you wide open for him. you whimper when a big hand cups your sex, rough palm brushing against your throbbing clit.

“shh.” iwa coos, entranced with how you’re rolling your hips to grind against his hand. “i got you.”

he presses his thumb against your clit, circling the sensitive bud peaking past your puffy lips; as his middle finger teases your slit. slowly he pushes his finger inside you, a heavy, relieved moan escapes your throat, as he easily slides in and out of you. through heavy lidded eyes you watch as fog clouds the windows of iwa’s truck, the glass steamy; while perspiration collects between your bodies. you’re brought back to focus on iwa, when he teases a second finger against your slit, dipping inside you and stretching you out even more. hissing, you clench around him; the lewd squelches as he fucks you with his thick fingers, has you digging your heels into his thigh and the steering wheel.

the way iwa’s fingers reaches deeper inside than you could ever on your own, and the added stimulation to your clit, has the tightening coil in your belly snap as you cum all over his hand.

“oh baby, feels good doesn’t it?”

“yeshhh...h-haji, mmph-”

he doesn’t stop pumping you with his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm to the end. even when you feel the high descend, twitching at the slight overstim, you expect him to stop. but all he does is bury his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin as the hand not occupied with your pussy, fondles your ass. you lean into him, mewling at his touches when your breath hitches at a new sensation.

“haji, no! it’s dirty!”

the hand at your ass had moved to pet at your puckered hole - completely drenched in your cum, he was sure he could slide a single finger in with ease. and he was right. the feeling of your tight hole being prodded, stretched by the tip of his forefinger, before sucking the entire digit inside - had you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“f-ah-uck! oh shit, nghhh!”

“you gonna cum again for me, baby?”

the feeling of both your ass and pussy being stuffed full of iwa’s fingers is overwhelming. you’re a panting and moaning mess, writhing on top of him. and when the back of your head is thrown back into iwa’s shoulder, all you can see is hazy stars in the sky as you stare up, completely intoxicated by the feeling of his fingers moving inside you - brushing against the thin barrier of skin between your two holes. the familiar pressure in your tummy has you bucking your hips and crying out.

“you’re squeezing my fingers so tight.” he maintains the same steady pace, fucking his fingers into you nice and deep, while working your sensitive clit. its only a few seconds later he hits a particular spot that has you jolting forward, crying out at your sudden release. “shit, that’s right, i can feel you cumming all over my hands again, baby.”

you can barely think straight as your body trembles from the aftershocks of your second orgasm. still in a daze, iwa eases his fingers out of your twitching holes, and you groan at the empty feeling.

“you okay?” iwa asks, wrapping his arm around your waist. you nod, chest heaving as you attempt to steady your breathing. “you think you can cum one more time from my fingers-”

“no!” you grab at his wrists when he moves to play with you again. “i need you inside me, haji. please.”

whatever calm iwa had possessed while pleasuring you had vanished at your words. sticky hands lifted you up by your waist, turning you around to straddle him - while he slightly lowered the back of his seat. lip locked, your hands find themselves wrapped around the nape of his neck, while iwa’s hands grab at your body - stilling your wriggling form as he grinds up into you.

without breaking the kiss, you reach down and ease your fingers under the elastic waistband of his briefs; hand brushing against the tip of iwa’s cock. that earns you a muffled groan as he allows you to hover over him and slide the boxer briefs down his muscled thighs. your mouth salivates at the sight of his cock slapping against his toned stomach. he was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, with a thick vein on the underside, and a red, angry tip leaking pre-cum.

“fuck, you’re so big haji.”

he hisses when your hand touches him, you can barely wrap your fingers around him; and you start to question if he could even fit inside you. iwa notices the slight hesitation in your movements.

“we don’t have to.” he reassures, brushing the hair out of your lust filled eyes. “i can play with you some more, or i can eat you out in the back seat-”

“-haji.” you cut him off, stroke him before lining him at your dripping entrance, grinding the leaking tip across your slit. “i’ve wanted this for so long.” lowering yourself, you gasp at the delicious stretch of his tip entering you. “i’ve wanted you for so long. don’t hold back, give me everything.” and with that, you completely impale yourself on his cock.

“fuck, y/n, i can feel you clamping down on me- shit baby, you gotta move.”

lifting one leg at a time, you shift around off of your knees, steadying yourself on your tip toes; before grabbing onto iwa’s shoulders and starting to slowly ride him. his hands roam across your body freely, loving squeezes trailed in their path, as praise after praise is whispered out to you.

“you take my cock so well, fuck.”

your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as you quicken your pace. bouncing yourself faster on his fat cock, iwa’s attention is drawn to to the way your breasts move in front of him; massaging the soft flesh, and then leaning forward to smush his face between them.

“could stay right here forever.” his muffled voice croons. 

you whimper at the feeling of his hot tongue dragging a wet trail down the valley between your breasts, and you’re certain plum love bites will have bloomed across your chest by sunrise. your arms shoot up to press against the foggy glass of the moon roof above you, palms pressed flat against the steamy window, handprints painted on the transparent screen - as you bounce harder and faster. the lewd sound of your ass slapping against his thighs and of your pussy sucking him in with each stroke; shows how desperate you are to cum again.

“you’ll cum on my cock, won’t you baby? i can feel how close you are, shit, you’re so close aren’t you?”

the way you ride him gradually becomes sloppier the closer you are to cumming, so when he holds your waist and helps you bounce on him, you cry out in relief.

“f-fuck, feels s’g-good, haji! nghh, yes, yes, yes-!”

only as he reaches a hand down to roll your sensitive clit between his index and thumb, do you fall apart on his cock. your velvety walls spasm around him as he continues to fuck you through your high in chase of his own, overstimming you even more as you cream all over him, tongue lolling out. the sheer intensity of your orgasm has you collapsing forward onto his heaving chest, a babbling mess, while he holds you to him.

“you made such a mess on me, baby.” he huffs out.

“h-haji.” you whimper into his neck, arms looped around his. “s’too sensitive, haaa~”

your knees are by his hips, the tops of your feet pressed against his inner thighs, as he rolls his hips into you. large hands slide down your spine, over the curve of your ass to knead the smooth flesh in his palms.

“just hold on to me baby. you got one last one for me, don’t you?” all you can do is nod, releasing an onslaught of mewls and moans. “that’s a good girl, fuck.”

iwa is relentless in pursuit of his own orgasm - fucking into you at a punishing pace that has your mouth jar open in a silent cry, his truck jolting with each snap of his hips. your juices completely drench his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease, and you’re sure by now your pussy has been shaped out by the imprint of his cock. you can feel him throbbing inside of you, close to his climax; while his fingers dig into your ass shoving you down on his cock, and hitting your sweet spot over and over that you can’t help but gush all over him yet again.

“h-ah-ji, hnghh!” you sob, your body spent and thighs slick with your cum.

iwa only lasts a little longer with the way you were clenching down on him; pulling out of your fucked out pussy, and setting you on his thighs. he fists his cock in his hand, jerking himself a few times before thick, white cum spurts out - coating his entire hand and painting his stomach.

“mmm baby, that was fucking amazing.” he growls out, leaning back into the seat to catch his breath. “d’you feel okay?”

you only hum, entranced by how much cum he spilled. or wasted, you thought to yourself.

“can you reach over to the back and grab the towel in my gym bag, gotta clean us up…” your lack of focus has iwa trailing off. “y/n?”

“we don’t need the towel.”

reaching for the hand covered in his seed, you bring it to your mouth. iwa tries to question what you meant by that, though he’s cut off when you lick a tentative strip across his palm. gathering his cum on your tongue, you swirl his essence around in your mouth, before swallowing. you make a show of taking each finger in your mouth, sucking his cum clean. once his hand is licked clean, you slide down his lap; ready to do the same over his abs.

“you’re so good to me, y/n.” iwa runs his fingers through your hair, and then pats your head. “y/n?” he calls out again, still petting your head just as your about to trace the dips of his stomach with your tongue.

“hmm?”

“y/n? y/n?”

you move back away from him. “what?”

“y/n? oi, y/n? wake up!”

iwa watches as you jolt up from where you had fallen asleep on his lap. makki, who had been hovering over you, moves away as you try to swat at him - a confused look on your face.

“huh?”

“you fell asleep.” makki informs her. “you were interrupting the movie. if you’re that tired, just sleep in one of our rooms.”

lazed out on the other couch, mattsun pipes up; “yeah, you were making these ugly noises and then iwa said you licked his hand, what a weirdo.”

he only clears his throat awkwardly, finding a sudden interest in the beige walls of their living room. he misses the horrified expression on your pretty face, scrunched up in utter embarrassment, before you turn to start arguing with mattsun.

iwa was grateful for the pillow resting over lap, hiding the evident hard-on he was sporting. he wanted to argue with mattsun too, because the sounds you made were definitely far from ugly.

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[gimmesumsuga]

Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

Summary: The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

Warnings: Extreme fluff and domesticity, cursing, mild angst, smut inclusive of: fingering, oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected penetrative sex 

** Click here to read on Archive of our own (AO3) should the read more on mobile not work due to fic length **

Thank you @readyplayerhobi​ for my super cute banner and @johobi​ for the gorgeous moodboard! ^^

“Seriously?!” Sitting up with a suddenness that borders on miraculous given how fast asleep you were just a few blissful moments ago, you glare out into the darkness that fills your room.  

The wall opposite your bed may as well be vibrating, so insistent is the thud of bass that’s thumping through from the apartment next door, and if you thought you were pissed about being so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, that’s nothing compared to the indignance of your dog, Remi.  Barking her head off, you’re met by the sight of her pacing up and down the span of the wall once you turn on the light, blinking as your eyes adjust to the offending brightness.  

“This is just so not the time,” you hiss as you swing your legs out of bed and then stalk across the room to hammer your fist against the plaster, swearing under your breath.  Usually, you’re quite quick to try and stifle Remi when she gets her knickers all in a twist, but not right now - not when her yapping is perfectly justified and the dog next door then has the sheer gall to start barking back.  

“Oh, it’s on,” you grit out through your teeth, banging your fist against the wall with renewed vigour ‘til your fist is sore and Remi’s so worked up that she’s up on her hind legs pawing the paintwork right alongside you.  

Thankfully, your next-door neighbour soon gets the message and turns off his music, no doubt feeling cowed at having been met with such vehement disapproval from the opposite side of the wall.  You sigh, satisfied, but it seems Remi has no such intention of letting it go so lightly, her barking match with her nemesis next door carrying on despite the battle being over.  

“Hey, hey,” you hush as you squat down to her level, running your fingers through her fur, “It’s ok, you can stop now, Rem.  We won, it’s ok.”  She quietens slightly at the reassuring tone of your voice but, stubborn as she is, she remains determined to get the last bark in, growling low in her throat and staring at the wall until she’s absolutely sure that the dog next door has been forced to back down.  

She’s always been the same; vocal even as a pup.  She’s a canine of very few faults (or so you like to believe), but you’ll admit that she can be a little too loud at times - a little too quick to run her mouth off at the slightest unfamiliar noise despite you discouraging her from it as best you can.  

It was actually one of the reasons you and your ex broke up, as silly as that sounds.  He’d always been intolerant of Remi’s noise - of anything being anything other than perfectly perfect, frankly  - and the final straw had come when one day, in a fit of red-faced rage, he’d taken off his shoe and thrown it at her from across the room.   She’d yelped and ran off to hide, and that’d been it.  By dinner time that evening, he’d been in the process of moving out his things.  A two-year relationship over, just like that. 

Good riddance, as far as you were concerned.  Remi was your roommate years before he ever had been; your loyalties lay with her, as they do to this day.  

And boy, does she know it.  You think it to yourself now, as you lay back down in bed and she sits at your bedside with her chin rested on the covers looking up at you with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.  

“Oh come on then,” you grumble, shifting over and patting the space you’ve made for her atop the duvet.  She leaps up, tail wagging, and quickly circles on the spot before lying down snuggled up against you, exhaling noisily in contentment as you fuss her soft, pointed ears. “You’re never going to make any friends if you keep barking at everyone all the time, you know.”  Remi closes her eyes, utterly unrepentant.  

Not that it’ll soon matter what the next-door neighbours think of you, that is - not if you don’t ace the interview that you’re due to attend in a disgustingly short amount of time.  You really should’ve gone to bed earlier, given that the ability to pay your rent is now riding on exactly three and a half hours sleep should you not manage to drift off again for what little time you have left before your alarm is set.  

Luckily, the slow rise and fall of Remi’s soft little body lying next to yours proves as soothing as you’d hoped it would, and you’re able to steal a couple of hours more of precious sleep before having to drag your unwilling carcass out of bed and into a pair of high heels.  Full of nerves, you bite your nails the whole way there and are forced to make a pitstop in a public restroom prior to your arrival (nervous bowels for the win), but despite all that, you get the feeling the interview actually goes rather well.  It’s not for anything fancy, mind - a retail position at one of the more high-end-but-not-quite-designer clothing stores in the city - but the woman quizzing you seems friendly enough, all nods and smiles and shiny white teeth.  You even manage to make her laugh, which is impressive given how lame your sense of humour can get when you’re nervous.  

She tells you that you can expect to hear back by the end of the working day, and whilst at first that sounds perfectly reasonable, by the time you’ve gotten home and changed into something more comfortable you’re already going out of your mind.  Remi seems to pick up on your unease, too, sitting dutifully by your side as you glance at the arm of the sofa where your phone lies every other second, her little ears alert and twitching.    

It’s only after you’ve checked it’s not on silent for perhaps the hundredth time that you finally decide you’ve had enough.  Decisive, you rise to your feet and slip on your shoes before grabbing Remi’s lead from where it hangs by the side of the door.  

“Who wants to go on a walk, huh?” you offer, but having already seen you reach for her lead, Remi is already beside herself with excitement.  Atop her back her fuzzy little tail is wagging up a storm, dusting back and forth across the floor once she finally calms down enough to plop her bottom down onto the laminate and let you actually attach her to the thing.  

“Ok, ok, don’t pull,” you murmur mostly for your own benefit as you open up the door and then pause to lock up, her lead looped around your wrist.  Heaven knows Remi’s not listening anyway - not when she’s this wound up.   “Jeez, I’m coming!” you complain, turning on the spot when she yaps impatiently only to take one step towards the staircase and then come to a complete stop once you realise someone’s already coming up the other way.  

That someone being Min Yoongi, your aforementioned next-door neighbour, and his dog, a little toy poodle you’re not entirely sure of the name of.  

If you’re honest, you’re barely on a first-name basis with the man himself, nevermind his canine companion.  You’re fairly certain you remember him introducing himself when you first moved in, but other than that you’ve had very little to do with each other since then apart from the one time you accidentally picked up his mail and he came knocking on your door in search of it.  You remember thinking he was cute, too, back then, but despite the smiles that you’ve offered up whenever you may pass in the hall, Yoongi has remained somewhat of a mystery.  

Is he just shy, perhaps?  Or is he really as aloof and disinterested as the perma-furrow in his brow might have you believe?  

Of course, as soon as Remi spots the other dog she starts whimpering and pulling even more with the want to go and say hello, which is ridiculous, really, because you know as the moment the poodle comes close she’ll turn tail and run - which lo and behold, she does.  Their noses have barely touched when she jumps backwards and then scampers to hide behind your legs, tangling you up in her lead as she goes.  

“Oh Remi, you big wuss!” you sigh as you fight to shuffle backwards enough for Yoongi and his dog to actually be able to get past - a task easier said than done given that the poodle seems set on chasing after her, tangling you up even more.  

“Holly, leave it,” you hear Yoongi warn as you peer down at the dogs dancing between your legs, praying for Remi not to do anything that might embarrass the both of you.  

She’s never been aggressive before - all bark and no bite through and through - but there’s always a first time… 

As if right on cue, Remi releases a deep, rumbling growl as a warning once it becomes apparent that Holly doesn’t have any intention of backing off without a fight.  You cringe at the sound, embarrassed.  

“Hey!  Be nice!” you scold as the other dog very quickly turns tail and runs back to his owner, startled.   You feel your cheeks fill with heat as Yoongi scoops Holly off the ground and into his arms, making a mental note to not give Remi any of her usual bedtime treats this evening.  

“I’m really sorry about that,” you gush despite Remi looking anything but, sat scratching herself at your feet without a care in the world.  

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs, glancing down at Holly with a hint of a smile, “‘Bout time someone put him in his place.”  You can’t quite think what to say to that - caught off guard by how very different Yoongi looks when there’s a smile on his face rather than a frown.   

Yeah, he’s definitely cute.  Cute button nose?  Check.  Honey-boy smile?  Check.  Even the dye job on his hair is better than your own - a deep mahogany red to suit the changing of the seasons.  

Your silence earns you a quizzical look but no further comment, and mentally you kick yourself for being such an absolute loser as Yoongi turns and heads back towards his apartment, Holly still cradled in his arms.  

"And I'm sorry about last night!" you call after him like the unstoppable moron you are.  

Why would you bring that up?!  There's nothing but more awkwardness in-store by mentioning that, surely?! 

Still, deep down you feel obliged to offer some sort of apology.  After all, you expect Yoongi would have had the pleasure of having to overhear some of yours and your ex's more colourful arguments in the past.  Not to mention the fact that Remi decides to bark every time she sees a bicycle on the television screen.  

“It’s just… I had an interview this morning,” you explain as he slowly turns back around to face you again, one eyebrow slightly raised, “And I already went to bed late, so…” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way Yoongi averts his gaze and seems to shrink in on himself a little bit as he looks at Holly rather than you.  “I should apologise.  I didn’t realise how late it was.  Lose track of time when inspiration hits.”  

“Oh, that was you?” you enquire before stopping to think that maybe Yoongi might not want to share any further.  He appears to hesitate before answering, but when he does he offers you a small smile and another shrug of his shoulders along with it.  

“I’ve got a home studio,” he explains, exhaling with amusement before adding, “Not gotten around to soundproofing it yet.  Obviously.” 

So he works in the music business, huh?  You figure he must be pretty good, considering how you’ve always presumed it’s been mainstream chart stuff that you’ve been hearing through the walls in the past.  

“That’s really cool,” you grin, pleased to see him smile back, and you’re just about to open your mouth to keep the small talk going when all of a sudden Remi tugs sharply on her lead, jolting you off balance.  Flustered, you glare at her accusingly only to see her staring right back, impatient for the walk she’s been promised.  

Little madam would be tapping her paw on the floor and checking her watch if she only knew how… 

Giggling to mask your embarrassment, you make your excuses and bid Yoongi farewell, and you’re about halfway down the concrete steps to take you to the ground floor when suddenly his voice calls after you,

“How did it go?”  Looking up, you see his face peering down at you over the railings. The apples of his cheeks look even more pinchable from below; so smooth and sweet and round.  "The interview, I mean," he explains further when all you do is gawp back up at him, mouth hanging ajar.  

"Oh!" Could this really be real?  Is Yoongi - introverted, mysterious Min Yoongi -  taking an active interest in you?  Well, not you necessarily, but something to do with you, nonetheless.  "Yeah, I mean, I think it went pretty well."  He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

"Well, good luck with it," he says, and all of a sudden Holly's face pops over the side too, tongue lolling out.  At your feet, Remi grumbles disgruntedly.  

"Thanks," you reply, face aching with the effort it's taking for you to try not to grin too hard.  "Keeping all my fingers crossed."  Yoongi gives you one last final nod and then disappears out of sight, keys jingling as he opens his front door, and you’re left giddy in his wake.  

Realistically, you know this whole exchange was little more than every day ordinary - some might even say mundane - but it's caught you so off guard that you very nearly fall down the stairs when Remi barks you back to reality, tugging once more on her lead.  

"Oh alright, alright, alright…"

  ****

  Turns out, your gut feeling that the interview went well was right. 

Not that you’d actually found that out until much later on in the day, mind.  Thanks to all the faffing around you’d been doing with your phone prior to leaving the house, you’d managed to leave it by the front door rather than take it with you, and by the time you’d gotten home, there were three missed calls and a rather perturbed sounding voicemail waiting for you.  Still, better late than never, eh?  You were just glad your new employer hadn’t mistaken your sudden unavailability as a lack of enthusiasm; full of spluttered apologies and excuses by the time you eventually called them back.  

That was two weeks ago, now, and you’ve been pleasantly surprised as to how well things have been going so far.  Being a high-end store, the clientele are somewhat more demanding than you’ve been used to before, but the money’s good and your new colleagues have been more welcoming than you could’ve hoped.  Everything’s been coming up roses,  and whilst you’re revelling in your newfound financial security, Remi is… well, Remi’s not been taking to it quite so well.  

It was only a month or two that you were unemployed prior to starting this job, but it seems as though that was time enough for Remi to become all too accustomed to you spending all your time at home.  You’ve no idea how she is when you’re out during your shifts, but the way she sits whining at the front door whilst you get ready for work is enough to break your heart alone, and she’s so excited to see you every time you get back that it doesn’t take a genius to assume she’s been mourning your absence every moment that you’re gone.  

It makes you feel horrifically guilty, but what else can you do?  You need to work and dog sitters are a luxury you can't afford - at least not right now, anyway.   And so of course, like every individual who’s ever suffered with ‘mom guilt’, you end up over-compensating to make up for it; new toys, tastier treats, extra-long walks.  Basically, anything Remi might ever want.  

And it’s on one of these longer walks that you finally end up bumping into Yoongi and his canine companion again, meandering through the park nearest your home.  He doesn’t spot you, at first, which gives you ample opportunity to observe the fondness with which he watches Holly chasing the autumn leaves dancing along the path with each gust of wind.  You even get to hear him laugh for the very first time when Holly abandons the leaves and opts to chase his tail instead, and the whole scene is so endearing that you can’t help but stop and scrunch your nose at the two of them, grinning to yourself from where you linger further down the path.  

Does he have any idea how cute he is, you wonder?  You can’t imagine Yoongi would be the type of guy who’d appreciate hearing it, should you ever work up the courage to tell him so.  

“Hey!” you call out once you’ve mustered up the courage to finally reveal yourself, approaching them with Remi’s lead held firmly in hand.  On hearing your voice, Yoongi looks up from where he’d squatted down to give Holly a fuss, his small eyes widening infinitesimally once he realises it’s you. 

“Oh, hey,” he greets, quickly straightening up and brushing off the leaves that’d gotten caught on the front of his long, black coat.  

“How’s it going?”  You keep a close eye on Remi as you approach, and whilst she still tugs on the lead in an attempt to rush forward, you’re glad to find that this time around the two of them are somewhat calmer as to how they go about greeting each other.  There’s plenty of sniffing, still, and plenty of bouncing around, but apparently Holly is a quick learner and knows better than to come on so strong this time around.  

“Yeah, not bad.”  You can tell Yoongi’s a responsible owner by the way he closely watches Holly as the two dogs say hello, but as he glances up you can’t help but notice that there are dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes despite his profession of good health.  

Has he been staying up late again, absorbed in his music?  If he has, he must’ve had the forethought to use some headphones, as you haven’t been awoken during the night at all ever since that fateful evening a couple of weeks ago.  

“Hey, uh, how’d it turn out with that job, in the end?” Yoongi asks, and it’s stupid but you swear you feel your insides flutter with excitement at a) the fact that he remembered and b) would care enough to ask about it further on down the line.   

“Really good!” you reply as Remi sinks down into a playful stance amongst the leaves, bottom eagerly wiggling. “I got it, yeah!  Started last week.”  Yoongi smiles mildly, though it’s nowhere near the toothy grin you’d seen him bestow on Holly earlier.  What would you have to do to earn one of those, you wonder?  

“I figured you had.”  Your brows furrow in curiosity as he slips one hand into his pocket, shifting his weight.  

“Oh?  How’d you work that out?”  He glances at Remi for a second, pausing before he answers.  

“Your dog, Remi?” You nod, growing more curious with every second. “Well, she’s gotten kind of… noisy since you went back to work.”  

Oh.  Oh shit.  

Your embarrassment must show all over your face because Yoongi’s quick to continue explaining, his own expression turning into one of worry.  

“I mean, it’s no trouble.  It’s not like I’m trying to sleep or anything and my headphones cancel her barking out anyway,” he rambles as the two dogs continue to spring back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. “It’s just… I feel kind of sorry for her, is all.”  

And oh boy, if you didn’t feel guilty already about leaving her than you sure do now.  What must Yoongi think of you?  Does he think you’re being neglectful of her?  That you’re some horrible, conscienceless owner?  Oh god, what if he reports you for animal cruelty or something?  

“I didn’t… um…” Realising you’re on the verge of bursting into tears, you purse your lips and look down at Remi for a second or two, trying to remind yourself that no matter what anyone may think, you’re doing the best you can.  She’s in good health and she’s happy… most of the time.  “I didn’t realise she was getting so upset while I was gone,” you say, blinking back the tears and forcing a smile as you shrug your shoulders like it’s not so much of a big deal.  “Maybe I’ll have to look into a sitter, or… or…” 

“I didn’t mention it to try and make you feel bad,” Yoongi gently interrupts, and you can tell that he’s being genuine from the tone in which he says it.  Somehow, he doesn’t strike you as the sort to bullshit someone just to spare their feelings.  “I’ve just been thinking; maybe I can take her out with me for a walk in the afternoon?  I’ll be walking Holly anyway, so…”  

“Are you serious?!” you exclaim, your sheer volume and enthusiasm so unexpected that Yoongi actually takes an involuntary step back, his eyes widening in alarm.  Even the dogs momentarily stop their play,  heads cocked to the side as they stare up at you, bemused.  “That’d be amazing, thank you!”  Yoongi smiles, rubbing bashfully at his neck, and if it weren’t for the fact you’re unsure of how he’d respond, you’d have thrown your arms around him already while you girlishly squeal your thanks.  

“Really, it’s no big deal,” he dismisses, but it’s too late.  As far as you’re concerned you’re already indebted to him for being kind enough to merely suggest it.  

“It is to me,” you smile and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear that Yoongi’s cheeks turn a softer shade pinker as he glances down at the floor, clearing his throat.  

“You can just drop a key over whenever.  Whatever’s easier for you.”  He shrugs his shoulders, all nonchalance in spite of your beaming smile.  Below you, Holly’s happily letting Remi clean the inside of his ears, oblivious.    

“Thanks, Yoongi.”  He looks up, and this time you know you’re not imagining the awkward blush dusted along his cheekbones.  “I owe you one.”  

It isn’t until later on, long after you’ve gotten home and whilst you’re trying (ie. failing) to get to sleep, that it suddenly dawns on you that there may be one potential downside to Yoongi’s generous offer.  

Now that you’ve given Yoongi your spare key, he can just come moseying on into your apartment any time he likes.  Any sane person would surely be concerned about the potential security risk that poses, surely, but you?  Oh no, your anxieties are centred around the fact that this means that Yoongi will get to see what an absolute shit-tip your apartment is and suss you out as the grotty little goblin you are, and thereby conclude that he should never, ever, ever speak to you again, for as long as you both shall live.  

Unsurprisingly, as soon as you realise this you’re even less able to sleep than you were before and proceed to spend the next four hours tidying up all the areas in the apartment you figure Yoongi is most likely to see.   You make a pretty good job of it, too, though you start to question whether it was worth it when you have to spend the next following day at work feeling as though you’ve got some sort of fatigue-induced hangover - dry mouth and all.  

It was, though, no doubt.  Once you finally arrive home all blurry eyes and aching feet, Remi seems a lot less manic than she has these past couple weeks when she’s been left alone.  She’s still pleased to see you, of course, but it’s a happy tail wag rather than a desperate nipping at your fingers or jumping up your legs like before.  You notice that Yoongi has re-filled her water bowl, too, and the calmness he’s imbued in her seems to last throughout the whole evening.  She's so calm, in fact, that you can’t help but wonder if he might’ve slipped something into said water bowl.  

If he did, you’d sure like to know what it was… 

And so it continues throughout the weeks that follow.  You and Yoongi never actually cross paths - much to your dismay - but Remi continues to relish her daily adventures out and about the town without you.  And it’s not just Remi that benefits from your newfound arrangement, either; with the time that you’d normally use to walk her yourself now no longer needed, you’re free to indulge in the self-care rituals that’d fallen by the wayside once the past few weeks.  Bubble-baths, face masks, deep cleanses - your skin has never looked better! 

“This is the life, huh Rem?” you sigh in contentment, glancing over to where she’s currently lounging atop the closed toilet seat opposite your bathtub, keeping you company whilst you luxuriate.   She says nothing, obviously, but looks happy enough with her chin rested on the sink and eyes half-closed.  She yawns, showing off all her teeth, and it catches - your mouth opening in a great big yawn as you reach out of the tub for the glass of wine precariously perched on the side.  

So what if it’s only three in the afternoon?  This is what weekends off work are for, and if Remi’s not judging you then you’re not about to go giving yourself a hard time either.

“What do you say to a little nap after this, hm?” Glass now empty, your fingers are starting to look a little bit pruney as you place it back on the side, and you take that as a sign to say you’ve been wallowing in your own filth long enough.  It’s time to make a move.  

With a great big groan of effort, you hoist yourself up out of the water and stand up, grinning to yourself at the little headrush that comes with it - purely from the change in blood pressure, obviously. Nothing to do with your midday alcohol consumption at all.  Unfortunately, your amusement is short-lived once you realise that in your eagerness to soak you’d completely forgotten to bring your towel along.  

“Ah shit,” you huff, climbing out onto the bathmat and then wiggling yourself in an attempt to drip dry as best you can before you venture out to where you know you’ve left it hanging on the radiator out in the hall.  Remi watches your shuffle curiously but it’s not as though she hasn’t already seen it all before, and you flash her a grin before covering up what you can with one hand and opening up the door, shivering a little as the cold air hits you.  

Suddenly, Remi darts out from the bathroom from between your legs, barking like mad, and maybe it’s because the alcohol has slowed your reflexes - or maybe you’re just a little slow in general - but it isn’t until you hear the front door shut and Yoongi calling Remi’s name that the slow realisation of what’s happening hits you. 

Remi's walk.  Yoongi's come to take Remi on her walk because as far as he knows you’re working, and why on earth would you have been smart enough to have had the forethought to let him know that you’re not?!   

“Hi Rem,” you hear Yoongi say once she’s finished yapping, her aggression replaced by excited whining as she no doubt dances around his feet.  Like an idiot, you’re so blindsided by his sudden arrival that all you can do is stand frozen in the hallway - the hallway that Yoongi would be able to see directly down should he only think to move a few paces to the left.  “You ready for walkies, girl?” 

Oh god, why now?!  Why you?!  

Remi lets out a bark of excitement and then, to your horror, you realise she’s turned tail and decided to come and fetch you to join in with all the fun, the bell on her collar jangling as she runs towards you, ushering in your doom.  

“Where are you off to?  You don’t want to go out today?  That’s a shame because Holly-”  The sound of Yoongi’s voice coming closer is finally enough to kick you into gear, and it’s with a yelp of alarm that you reach out and snatch the towel off the radiator and clutch it to your chest just in time for Yoongi to round the corner and come into sight.  

His eyes widen comically when he sees you, his mouth popping open as he freezes in the doorway and you scramble to cover yourself.  You’re not sure how much he actually saw but you think he must’ve seen something , judging by his reaction.  Between you, Remi runs back and forth, joyfully oblivious.  Your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment, and given the rising blush you can see on Yoongi’s cheeks you’d guess he’s not faring much better. 

“Um… I-”  you stutter out, holding the towel in place against your chest in case Remi decides to jump up your legs and yank it down. “I-I’m not working this weekend and-”  

Shamefully, Yoongi doesn’t even give you a chance to finish explaining.  With nothing more than a rapid series of blinks and a stiff nod, he turns around on the spot and walks out of your apartment faster than you’ve ever seen him move before, and though you and Remi rush aimlessly after him, he’s too quick to catch.  He doesn’t even shut the door after himself properly, so eager is he to escape.  

“Poor guy must've gone to pour bleach in his eyes," you sigh whilst Remi stares forlornly at the door as you press it shut, her tail hanging sadly between her legs.  You can only hope you haven’t scarred him for life and ruined your arrangement, and you tell yourself that it’s for Remi’s sake but really, you’re not sure your ego could handle it if it turned out Yoongi had taken one look at you naked and decided never to speak to you again.  

You run your fingers through the wet mass of tangles that is your hair, sighing once more as you head towards the kitchen, uncaring that you’re likely dripping bathwater all over the floor.  

“I think it’s time for another drink, Rem, don’t you?”  

  Remi doesn’t get walked that afternoon, much to her displeasure, and the reasons for that are twofold.  One - after having chugged down another two large glasses of wine in hopes of erasing your short-term memory, you were hardly in any fit state to pry yourself up off the sofa let alone walk around the block.    And two - even if you could walk, you would’ve still had to muster up the courage to step outside your front door.  Bumping into Yoongi and having him run away from you twice in one day was far too distressing a prospect for you to even consider attempting to move. 

Instead, you’d spent the rest of the afternoon lying about on the sofa, wallowing in your own self-pity until you’d fallen asleep in nothing but your towel, drooling all over the cushions.  It’d seemed like a good idea at the time, but the you of this morning is full of remorse having woken up with the back of her hair sticking out like a bird’s backside, a headache, and a craving for fried food that just won’t subside.  

It doesn’t help that Remi’s bouncing off the walls, either, and eventually you come to the conclusion that there’s really no way you can avoid taking her out for any longer.  You’re just going to have to pull on your big girl pants and if you see him, well… then you’ll just have to cross that bridge when it comes to it.  You’re both adults.  This shouldn’t be this big of a deal.  

But oh god it totally is because he’s so cute and what if he thinks you looked gross and oh god, oh god, oh god! 

But it’s fine.  Of course it’s fine, because you tell yourself it’ll be fine, and you didn’t bump into him for months at a time after you’d first moved in so why should it happen again now?  

Thankfully, fate appears to be on your side (or taking pity on you, at least).  You make it out of your building without seeing neither hide nor hair of your unwitting flashee - if that’s even a word - and despite having forgotten your purse, you still manage to find some change in the depths of your pockets for a snack from the food cart just outside the park.  

You munch it happily as Remi leads the way, darting from one side of the sunshine dappled pavement to the other to pee on everything she can find, and you’re just thinking about what a good call it was to get out of the house for a little while when you suddenly hear a familiar voice calling an all-too-familiar name and your stomach drops with dread.

Oh, fate can go fuck herself.  Fickle bitch. 

You come to an abrupt stop, eyes drawn to where your next-door neighbour is currently frolicking through the small field a little further down the path, just to your right.  

Frolicking is probably the wrong word, really, but you’re not sure what to call the gangly waving of arms and legs you can see going on past the small group of trees that’s concealing you from sight.  Holly’s off lead, you can tell that much, and Yoongi seems like he's having fun chasing after him, letting out some strange, high-pitched laugh when he almost trips over that has you guffawing in turn - a sound you quickly smother with the napkin you hadn’t yet thought to throw away.  

Yoongi drops to his knees amongst the grass and Holly is quick to take advantage, climbing up onto his owner’s lap to lick Yoongi’s face.  He groans and he grimaces, but you can still see him smiling as he wipes away the offending slobber, and you’re just about to start swooning at the way he’s lovingly fussing Holly’s ears when Remi startles you out of your reverie with a purposeful tug on her lead. 

Just like you, she’s spotted the object of your affections and is now desperate to make her way over, whining and pacing restlessly to and fro.  

“Rem, shh!” you hush when she lets out a bark of objection at your attempt to pull her back from the treeline.  As much as you enjoy seeing Yoongi you don’t actually want to see him right now, and if Remi keeps going the way she is you won’t end up with much of a choice in the matter.  

“Again, Hol?!  Really?!” Glancing over, you see Yoongi’s expression turn to one of distaste as Holly dips into a squat right in front of him, not a shred of thought spared for dignity.  You figure this is the best time to hurry on past while he’s suitably distracted but Remi doesn’t make it easy, pulling backwards as you try to walk on and then planting her bottom firmly on the ground once she realises brute strength is getting her very far.  

“I can just pick you up, you know,” you threaten, narrowing your eyes at her, but just as you’re stalking forward about to carry out the said threat, you’re distracted by the sight of Yoongi rummaging through his pockets, lips moving as though he’s grumbling to himself.  

You’ve seen that dance before; it’s one you know well, given how forgetful you can be.  He’s either forgotten his poo bags or run out of them altogether, and now you’re faced with the moral dilemma of knowing you have a brand new roll stashed away in your pocket.   As if sensing your hesitation, Remi stares at you as you squat down to her level, hands outstretched.    

‘Really?’ her eyes say, ‘Are you really going to just let him leave it there?  What if someone steps in it?  Think of the children -'

“Oh fine!” you huff, standing up straight and marching out onto the grass before you lose your nerve, Remi trotting along happily at your side.  

Must you really be so god damn conscientious all the time?  You swear it causes you nothing but trouble.

Before Yoongi’s even realised you’re there, you’re grabbing the roll from your pocket and thrusting it into his line of sight. 

“Here,” you offer as he startles, glancing from you down to Remi in momentary bewilderment.  You hadn’t meant to sound so gruff but unless you’d forced the word out you probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything at all, so you plaster a nervous smile onto your face in time for when he looks at you again, willing your posture to relax.   

“Uh, thanks,” he says he takes them from your palm and pulls one off, quickly putting it to good use.  Rather than stand there staring you turn your attention to Remi, mortified to see she’s taken a break from dancing back and forth with Holly in favour of sitting and licking her genitals in the most unladylike fashion.   

“Why don’t you go have a run with Holly and just… not do that,” you mumble as you bend to unclip the lead from her harness, granting her freedom.  She takes you up on your offer immediately, and the moment she’s loose the two of them go bounding off across the field as fast as they can go, Holly’s ears flapping in the wind.   You let out a laugh as Remi manages to dodge and weave around the slightly smaller dog, never quite letting him catch her but keeping close enough to maintain his interest. 

If only you were so skilled at the whole ‘treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen’ thing… 

“She’s really fast,” Yoongi comments, and as soon as he speaks it’s as though all the awkwardness comes flooding back for the both of you.  He can’t even seem to look you in the eye. “For a little dog.”  

“Yeah,” you chuckle back in the direction of your shoes, “She’s always acted like she’s twice her size.  Too big for her boots.”  

The two of you lapse into silence, Yoongi’s hands shuffling in his pockets whilst yours mess with your sleeves.  If only you could be so carefree as your canine companions who’ve now ceased their running and are circling around one another instead, sniffing each other out.  They’re having a great time, whereas the silence between you is quickly beginning to feel stifling, and you soon come to the conclusion that awkward or not, leaving things unaddressed like this is doing no good.  You’re just going to have to say something, even if it’s just to apologise and- 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi suddenly blurts out just as you were opening your mouth to do the same.  Your eyes meet and then quickly dart away again, cheeks flushed with heat.  “I didn’t mean to walk in- I mean, I didn’t realise you were home.”  

“That’s ok,” you rush to excuse, “It was my fault, I should’ve let you know I wasn’t working.”  You brave a look at him, smiling sheepishly.  “Sorry if I… gave you a shock.”  Yoongi shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he waves his hand dismissively.  

“I’ve seen worse, believe me,” he chortles, and then as if suddenly realising what it is he’s just said his eyes ping open wide and his face fills with colour.  “Sorry, that sounded bad, I-” He stops talking when he notices you’ve startled giggling at his expense, your shoulders shaking with mirth.  What he said wasn’t even that funny - hell, some might even be insulted - but he just looks so adorable when he gets all flustered that you just can’t help yourself.  It’s either laugh or start cooing and pinching his cheeks, and you doubt he’d appreciate the latter.  Soon enough, he’s chuckling along too - albeit rubbing at the flush on his neck as he does so.  

“Is it just me or have you noticed how all of our conversations seem to end up with one us apologising?” you observe once you’ve managed to stifle your giggling, happy with how much lighter the mood feels now that you’ve aired everything out.  

“I hadn’t until you just pointed it out,” Yoongi admits, absently swinging the hand in which he’s holding Holly’s lead as he looks out across the field towards the two of them.  His profile is so pretty; such a sharp jaw for such rounded cheeks to sit on.  “I must make an effort to be more interesting.”  

“You’re already plenty interesting.”  The words are out of your mouth before they’ve even taken form in your head, and you instantly wish you could catch them and stuff them back in as Yoongi’s eyebrows rise, his head turning to look back your way.  “I mean… what I meant was-” you stammer as the smallest of smiles tugs at his delicate lips, and though you love to see it you can’t bear to look him right now, too busy wishing the ground would just swallow you up and-

“Shit!”  You sharply look up, just in time to see Yoongi take off running at full speed, and your heart starts pounding for a completely different reason as you look ahead to where he’s headed and realise what it is that has him moving so fast. 

Where the two dogs had been so happily sniffing around one another just a moment ago, Remi now seems to be in some sort of distress.  You immediately assume they’re fighting given how loud she’s whining, but as you take in the sight of Holly mounting her rear end you very quickly come to realise it’s the very opposite of fighting that’s the problem and start running after Yoongi, shouting in a futile attempt to discourage the two.  

You hadn’t even realised Remi was in heat, for Christ’s sake!  No wonder she was so keen on saying hello to Holly, today of all days!  

As luck would have it, Yoongi reaches them two just in time to intervene.  His owner’s arm-waving and shouting startles Holly so much that he dismounts without Yoongi even having to touch him, and whilst their owners are left out of breath and harrowed to the core, the two dogs go on about their business like nothing’s happened at all.  

“I’m sorry,” you gush, hands shaking you’re so flustered, “I didn’t realise she was in season.”  

There you go apologising again… 

You quickly go about putting Remi back on the lead as Yoongi does the same, and she’s all innocent eyes as she gazes up at you wondering what all the fuss is about.  

“It should be ok, I think.”  With Holly firmly back in hand, Yoongi takes a moment to straighten out his beanie that’d come all askew.  “They didn’t… uh…” 

“Yeah, no, I know what you mean,” you interject rather than have him saying it out loud.  They didn’t get stuck together is what he was probably trying to say, and really you’d rather not have a conversation about knotting right now.  You’ve had more than enough embarrassment for one day, thank you very much.  

“I think I should get this one home before we have any more near-accidents,” Yoongi muses, frowning as he looks down at Holly who’s still clearly expressing an interest, nose twitching in Remi’s direction.  

“Sure,” you agree, “And maybe we should hold off on the joint walks for a week or so?” You hate to suggest it because you know Remi’s going to be absolutely miserable without them, and you’re sure Yoongi would keep a close eye on them from now on, but it’s just not worth the risk.  “Just until her heat is over, anyway.”  

“Yeah, probably best.”  You expect that to be it, then, but much to your surprise Yoongi suddenly breaches the gap between you and bends in front of Remi, scratching her under the chin just as you know she likes.  “See you soon girl, ok?” he promises, and you swear you feel your knees weaken slightly at the way he says it in that low, dulcet tone of his.  And if they didn’t then, then they most definitely do when he looks up at you and smiles, the sunlight catching his eyes.  

“Yeah, see you later.” Starstruck, you answer somewhat robotically as he stands back to normal height with that same small smile still playing on his lips.  

“Later,” he says, making himself scarce before anything else has a chance to go wrong.  

You take a moment just to close your eyes; to collect yourself and calm your heart.  Remi's innocent little face is awaiting you once they open again, gazing up at you as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and you can't help but soften as you bend down and run your fingers through her fur, sighing. 

"I know he's cute, Rem," you say, and part of you wonders whether it's Holly or Yoongi that you're talking about; Remi or yourself that you're talking to. "But you can't just go giving up the goods like that!"  She ever so sweetly licks your fingers - as if in penance - and you can’t help but wonder to yourself whether either of you is even really listening.  

At least she has the excuse of not being able to understand a word; you’re not sure what excuse your subconscious has for the numerous dreams it inflicts on you in the nights that follow.  Dreams of dark eyes, deep voices and long, wandering fingers that seem to linger on your skin even into wakefulness.  It doesn’t seem fair that whilst your sightings of the ‘real life’ Yoongi remain as sporadic and elusive as ever, you’re being haunted by his ever-so-alluring dream counterpart.  

It’s a stupid crush, really.  You know it is.  Your attraction to him is based on little more than his looks and the few short (and embarrassing) interactions you’ve had with the guy, and no-one is worth the realisation that you’re starting to resent your dog for all the time she gets to spend prancing around the park with him that you don’t. That's a new low, even for you.  

You’re just going to have to get over it, and as a couple of weeks go by with no further interaction between the two of you aside from the odd little post-it note left on your kitchen countertop once Remi's daily walks recommence, it gets a little easier to distract yourself from dwelling on the butterflies your next-door neighbour had been making you feel.  

Besides, if Yoongi was interested in pursuing something more than being your acquaintance surely he would’ve done it by now?  There’s no need for you to go messing up an arrangement that’s already working so well by getting feelings involved, especially if they’re not mutual.  Remi would kill you.  Or worse, Yoongi might start to think of charging you for his services rather than walking her out of the goodness of his heart.  Your new job may be going well, but that’s still not an option you’re in the position to afford.  

You feel as though you should do something for him, though.  You get the feeling Yoongi probably isn’t the type to appreciate a thank you card, and you’re not a good enough baker to go whipping up a batch of cookies or something else of the like.  Maybe you could splash out on a new piece of recording equipment the next time you get paid?  Hmm, but then that would require actually asking him what he wants, and no doubt it’ll be pricey if he’s using professional kit… Maybe you should just- 

“Oh, no, no, Remi, not there!  No!”  Panicked, you quickly pick Remi up off the sofa and rush her into the kitchen.  She continues retching even whilst in your arms and doesn’t stop until she’s finally thrown up this morning’s breakfast all over your laminate floor, uncaring of your whines of protest or the wrinkling of your nose.  

“See this is why-”  You groan with effort as you have to pick her up and move her out of the way to keep her from licking it all back up again.  You swear to god she’s getting heavier.  “-This is why you shouldn’t wolf everything down so fast!”  

Not that she’s ever had any issues with eating so quickly in the past.  Remi’s always gobbled down her food but it’s only the last day or two that she’s started bringing it back up again, and maybe it’d worry you if she seemed unwell in any other way, but she’s acting perfectly fine.  A little needier, perhaps, but you figure that’s just down to her missing her new playmate; she certainly isn’t shy about whining and pining after him whenever she can hear Holly next door.  

You’d even knocked on Yoongi’s door to check with him whether he thought Remi had seemed out of sorts at all, but he’d said he hadn’t noticed anything obvious either.  She’s not eating anything that she shouldn’t be and you haven’t changed her brand of food.  Sure, she might be eating a little bit extra of it lately but it can’t just be that, surely?  

Every sane person knows you shouldn’t google symptoms, but after you’ve cleaned up Remi’s mess and settled back down on the sofa, that's exactly what you find yourself doing.  With her curled up at your side, you scare yourself to death reading through all the horrible things that may or may not be the cause.  Parasites, liver failure, gastrointestinal blockages - none of them quite make sense because she’s perfectly fine - but as you continue to scroll there one possible explanation that catches your eye. 

Pregnancy.  

And suddenly it all clicks into place; Remi’s increased appetite, her cuddliness, the vomiting.  She’s pregnant!  

You twist in your seat, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form with wide eyes and a furiously beating heart, unable to comprehend that this might be true.  Your gaze strays to her stomach as though it might suddenly appear swollen now that the secret is out, but with all her long fur as covering she looks as normal as ever, leg twitching as she dreams.   

How can she be pregnant?!  You warned her about this - about giving away the goods too fast - and now look what’s happened!   Holly didn’t… they didn’t even…!  

Remi lets out a yelp of surprise as you suddenly scoop her up off the sofa and rush to your front door, in such a hurry that you don’t even bother to shut it after you as you storm down the hall.  Calling Yoongi’s name, you bang your clenched fist against his door with little care for how hysterical you might sound.  

Hell, you are hysterical!   What the bloody hell are you supposed to do with a litter of puppies?!  Your apartment is barely big enough for you and Remi, nevermind however many offspring she may be carrying!  

Yoongi’s bleary-eyed once he finally comes to the door, sleepiness adding to the bewilderment with which he squints at the sight of you red-faced and near hyperventilating.  It’s shameful that even as worked up as you are that your gaze still strays, unable to resist the lure of checking Yoongi out in his baggy tee and basketball shorts.  How is it that even his knobbly knees are so cute?!  

“Hey,” he greets, trying and failing to stifle a yawn that gives you an ever so lovely view of his tonsils.  He must’ve been up late working, and for just a moment you almost feel guilty for waking him up until Holly suddenly comes running to the front door as well.  Catching sight of Remi in your arms, he immediately starts to jump up your legs to try and reach her despite the death glare he’s greeted with. “What’s up?”  

“She’s pregnant,” you blurt out, thrusting Remi forward before placing her down on the floor so she and Holly can greet one another.  You can’t see the harm, after all.  It’s not as if he can go knocking her up again .   Yoongi’s brow furrows, head tilting as he sluggishly blinks, struggling to process this new information.  

“Sorry?”  

“Remi, she’s pregnant,” you state again, folding your arms across your chest as the words suddenly sink in and Yoongi's gaze plummets to the dogs at his feet.  “Holly knocked her up.”  For a moment, Yoongi says nothing.  All he does is stand there, rubbing the back of his neck as Remi affectionately nips and nuzzles at Holly, tugging on his ears.  

Finally, he looks up, eyebrows furrowed even deeper now.  

“How do you know it was Holly?”  Is he serious ?!  “I mean, you never know.  When they’re in heat they-” 

“Are you calling my dog a slut?!” you shriek, stepping forward so both Yoongi and the dogs are forced to move to accommodate your wrath.  He flinches, stepping back as the dogs scamper off somewhere further into the apartment.  “You were there!  We both saw them-”  Your arms flap as you search for the word, so outraged your face feels as though it’s on fire from all the red-hot blood rushing through your veins.  “- Canoodling !”  

If Yoongi weren’t so cute, you swear to god you’d kick him in the shins for the way the corners of his lips twitch at your choice of words.  

“Ok, alright,” he relents, cleverly deducing that trying to reason with you right now would be a fool’s game.  He glances over at the dogs, now cuddled up together in one of his armchairs.  “Just… how about we hold off on the meltdown until after we’re sure?”  Your eyes narrow despite knowing he’s right, unwilling to admit that just yet.  

There’s always the possibility you could be wrong.  The website you were looking at had so many different potential causes for her symptoms that it wouldn’t be impossible for it to be something else.  It might even turn out to be nothing at all.  

“I guess,” you admit after a moment has passed, unfolding your arms and letting them fall to your sides as you will your shoulders to relax.  

“The vet can do a scan, right?” Yoongi suggests, “Then we can figure out what to do if…” He glances at them again, drawing your eyes their way.  You have to admit they do make a very sweet looking couple, all curled up together like that.  “... if she is.”  

You bite your lip at the thought of the potential cost - you’ve got no idea how much it might cost or even when the right time to book it would be.  As if reading your mind, Yoongi speaks up again, rubbing at his neck once again. 

“I don’t mind splitting the cost if you want,” he offers, though he sounds a little awkward.  “You’re probably right about it being Holly…”  ‘Probably’ is a bit of an understatement, you think, but you’re not about to argue the semantics.  If you’re honest, you’re just feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of this; by the situation in itself and how level-headed and kind Yoongi has been to step up on Holly’s behalf so quickly.  

“They are a bit smitten with each other, aren’t they?” you smile, feeling a little calmer.  This could be a lot worse, you suppose.  The father could’ve just been some random dog in the park and you’d have been left facing this all alone.  

“Just a little,” he agrees, hands rested on his hips, and you swear the smile that blossoms on his face as he looks over at them is the sweetest one you’ve ever seen - your heart fluttering despite the promise you made yourself to get over this little crush.  

They’re not the only ones at risk of getting smitten, you think. 

“Anyway.”  You clear your throat in a futile attempt to get a hold of yourself. “Sorry for just barging round.  We’ll get going and let you get some more sleep.”  You call Remi’s name and she sleepily raises her head, refusing to move until you call her twice more, clapping your hands.  

“No worries. It’s about time I got up,” he says. “And what happened to us not saying sorry all the time, hm?”  Yoongi smiles crookedly, folding his arms, and god, it’s only the slightest bit of friendly teasing, so why is your heart racing so fast? 

“Whoops,” you giggle, acutely aware of the blush that’s warming your cheeks as you scoop Remi up in your arms. “I’ll try to do better.”  

“Then I'll expect your best,” Yoongi grins as he escorts you back to the door, and you swear to god you’re about to spontaneously combust any second.

“I’ll let you know about the scan, ok?”  He nods, returning your little wave as you say goodbye and then shutting the door before Holly has the chance to escape out into the hall after you.  You pause on the doorstep, willing your heart to calm down.  

“Oh you’re one to talk,” you hiss back at Remi when you notice her stare, wide-eyed and unblinking. The two of you wouldn’t be in this mess if she could’ve just kept it in her pants.  “You better hope I’m wrong about this, missus.”  

  You’re not, though.  The ultrasound scan that you attend the following week confirms your suspicions; Remi’s pregnant, about four weeks gone, and though the vet couldn’t be sure, she’d estimated her to be carrying at least three puppies.  She sends you away with her congratulations and an armful of literature - essentially the doggy equivalent of ‘what to expect when you’re expecting’ - and you spend the next hour after you leave the vets wandering the pet store aisles in some kind of daze, desperately trying to figure out which food you should buy.   

“Do you have any idea-” Yoongi looks surprised to see you when he opens the front door - Remi’s lead in one hand and a deluxe bag of dog food tucked under the other. “-How many different varieties of grain-free puppy food there are, Yoongi?”  He blinks, unsure, so you answer for him.  “Twelve.”  You can feel the bag starting to slip but you’re lacking the motivation to stop it, too overwhelmed from the morning you’ve had to want to fight anymore.  “Twelve. And not one single store assistant could tell me what the hell difference there is between any of them.”  The bag finally falls but luckily Yoongi’s right there to catch it, a furrow of concern creasing his brow.  “And it’s not even for the puppies.”  

“You… look like you could use a coffee,” Yoongi observes, stepping back from his doorway as he holds the bag against his chest.  

“Yes, thank you,” you sigh, stepping inside and bending down to let Remi off her lead as Yoongi puts the bag down by the front door and closes it.  

“So she’s definitely pregnant, then?” he asks as he reaches down to fuss Remi when she over bounds his way, tail wagging.  Holly follows quickly after but it’s not Yoongi he’s interested in - he’s too busy sniffing and licking at the bag of food.  

“Yep.  Triplets, apparently.  Or more, if we’re really lucky.”  Yoongi chuckles softly at the sarcasm in your tone, a faint smile on his face as he rounds the kitchen island and pulls out a stool on which you promptly sit, resting your elbows on the counter.

You hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate the decor the last time you got a glimpse inside Yoongi’s apartment, but now that you’ve got a minute you can’t help but notice how nicely put together the place is.  Yes, there’s some dirty dishware in the kitchen sink, and yes, his apartment is pretty much the same as yours in layout - just the other way around - but the warm, earthy tones of the place make it feel… cosier somehow.  More homely than the stark white walls and metallic countertops your ex-boyfriend had insisted you install back at your place.  

The smell of freshly brewed coffee grabs your attention, and you watch quietly as he pours you each a cup from a fancy looking cafetiere.  He’s surprisingly delicate in the way he moves - his long fingers deft and precise.  

“Milk?  Sugar?”  

“Yes.  And two please,” you mumble, still wallowing in your perceived misfortune.  At least you’ve got a nice view; Yoongi’s looking especially cute today in ripped jeans and a sweater that looks far too large, sleeves dangling as he reaches into the fridge.  

He takes his coffee with just the slightest touch of milk.  No sugar.  

“It’s not the end of the world,” he says eventually, breaking what would have been silence if it weren’t for the sounds of Remi and Holly play-fighting in the living room.  You swallow the sip of coffee you’d just taken - infinitely more flavorful than the cheap instant stuff you use at home. 

“I know,” you relent with a sigh.  You just hate feeling so out of your depth!  Usually, you research to death any kind of life choice you’re about to make - weighing out the pros and cons, thinking of any possible eventuality and most likely talking yourself out of it in the meantime - but you know nothing about dog breeding or raising puppies.  You’d never forgive yourself if you inadvertently did something wrong and Remi ended up getting sick or one of the puppies got hurt or- 

“My brother’s dog had puppies a couple years back, I can give him a call,” Yoongi says, as calm and level-headed as ever, “We go halves on everything and then split the profits afterwards.”  

“You think we should sell them?”  

“Well I hadn’t really planned on getting another dog anytime soon.”  His lips curve into a smile against the edge of his cup and you can’t help but smile in return, sighing again.  

“You think people will want them?” you ask after taking another sip and Yoongi puts down his cup to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone.  

“I did a little research,” he says, rounding the counter to come and stand next to you, thumb tapping away at the screen.   Standing this close you’re able to smell his cologne; a soft yet masculine scent.  Does he realise how close he is, you wonder?  Or rather, does he have any idea how he’s got every single one of your nerve endings on high alert?    “Look,” he instructs, turning his phone your way to show you a picture of one of the most adorable little dogs you've ever seen.  It's got Remi's pointed little nose and brilliant white fur, but being half poodle that fur is slightly curly rather than straight, and unlike Remi's pointed ears, this dog's are long and floppy just like Holly's.

In short, it's frickin adorable.  

"Oh my god!" you squeal before you can help yourself, stealing the phone from Yoongi's grasp to get an even closer look. You keep scrolling through Google images and you swear each puppy is even cuter than the last, knees bouncing under the counter as your thumb relentlessly swipes.  

You totally miss the fondness with which Yoongi observes your excitement.  He's usually rather possessive over his tech, but you're just so enthusiastic he can't bring himself to cut your 'ooh-ing' and 'aww-ing' short - especially given how miserable you looked when you first arrived.  "They're so adorable, oh my gosh."

"I don't think we'll have any trouble finding buyers if they come out looking like that," he says, slipping his phone back into his pocket once you coyly handed it back, careful to avoid the brushing of your fingers. 

"No, you're probably right." If anything, you'll probably have trouble giving them up yourself!  Yoongi returns safely to the other side of the counter, smiling softly as he picks up his cup in both hands and takes another sip.  

"We'll figure it out," he assures you, and somehow, despite all your anxieties and doubts, there's something about Yoongi's voice that makes you put all your faith in him.  

Mind now at rest, the two of you chat whilst you finish your coffees, not just about the dogs but other things as well; his impressive home entertainment system, your plans for Christmas and various theories about the strange Mr Jung who lives alone on the floor below and yet can be heard shouting all hours of the day.  

It feels so easy to talk to him.  Familiar, almost.  Like you and Yoongi knew each other in a past life and have somehow found one another again.  

Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic who's reading way too much into things but hey, you're not hurting anyone.  Just yourself, maybe, and you can live with that.  

"Thanks for the coffee," you smile as the conversation reaches a natural lull.  You're reluctant to leave but you'd rather not risk overstaying your welcome and turn what has been a lovely interaction sour.  

"Any time," Yoongi smiles in return.  This time you don't manage to avoid the brushing of your fingers as you hand your coffee cup back, and as your fingertips touch you end up pressing your thighs together under the counter from the thrill that runs through you.  Thank god he doesn't see it, lest Yoongi realises just how sexually deprived you've been since you and your ex broke up.  

Better leave now whilst you still have some semblance of self-control left. 

"Ok Rem, time to head on home," you call, slipping off the stool.  You pause, expecting to hear the jingling of the bell on her collar as she trots her way over to you, but nothing comes. "Remi?" You make your way into the living room only to find her curled up with Holly in that same spot on the sofa as last time, and if she heard you then she's certainly not acting as though she did.  "Rem, c'mon, gotta go."  Lazily, they lift their heads in perfect unison and yet Remi remains unmoving, yawning and stretching as Holly rolls onto his back.  

Glancing behind you, you ensure Yoongi is well out of earshot before squatting down so that you and Remi are eye to eye.  

"Look, I don't want to go either, but we don't want to overstay our welcome now, do we?" you whisper quietly, giving her fair warning before you slip your hands under her fuzzy little body and lift her from the seat. 

"Don't be sad." You almost jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear Yoongi right behind you, very nearly dropping Remi in your haste to turn around.  Apparently, Yoongi isn't a great believer in personal space (or else is oblivious to it) because he's close enough that he doesn't have to move an inch in order to reach out and stroke her fur, smiling. "We'll see each other soon," he reassures, looking up at you before adding, "Won't we?" 

"Yeah, definitely," you confirm, nodding like an idiot, and as though she understands Remi gives a little low rumble of contentment as she leans her head back against your chest, exposing her chin for scratches that Yoongi can't resist supplying.  

"I'll come fetch her for her walk tomorrow as normal." Yoongi pauses as he withdraws his affection, scratching behind his ear and keeping his eyes on Remi as he asks, "You are working tomorrow, aren't you?" 

Instantly, your cheeks flush with heat as you realise his intention for asking. "Y-yeah." God forbid he almost walk in on you semi-nude all over again… "Thanks." 

"No problem," he smiles, meeting your gaze.  You shyly return his smile, unable to think of anything more to say as he sees you to the door except to wish him goodbye, blushing once more when he quietly utters it back along with your name. 

It should be criminal for someone so good looking to have a voice so sexy.  How's a girl supposed to stand a chance?  Even when you're no longer in his presence, you can't stop thinking about him; his calm demeanour, his subtle smiles, the warmth he exudes around both Remi and Holly.  If he were just attractive that would be one thing, but now you're getting to know him more, little by little… boy, you're in trouble. 

And Remi doesn't seem to be faring much better, either.  Every small noise from next door that could possibly be her four-legged love has her pacing and whining, so eager to go to see him that every time you come home you have to be careful she doesn't dart out into the hallway between your legs and go scratching at Yoongi's door.  

Apparently, Remi's not concerned with the notion of looking desperate, which is why one evening when you come home and you're met with nothing more than silence and an empty apartment, you're more than just a little worried.  

Has she climbed her way out onto the balcony?  Shimmied across the window ledges mission impossible style in a desperate attempt to reach Holly next door?  

Unlikely, but you follow your gut instinct anyway and head over to Yoongi's as calmly as you can.  You take a deep, steadying breath as you knock on his door, trying to keep the rising sense of panic at bay.  You've already had a not so great day at work - too many customers with not enough manners.  The last thing you need now is a missing dog to add to the list.  

"Have you seen Remi?" you blurt out as soon as the door starts to open, frowning from the headache throbbing at the back of your skull.  "I just got home and she's not there and-" 

Yoongi's mouth opens but he has the chance to speak, the sound of Remi's bell does all the talking for him, jingling loudly as she comes running towards the door.  

"Hey you!" Your knees click as you bend down to fuss her, one hand on the hem of your skirt to make sure it doesn't ride up too far. "You scared me!"  Remorseless, Remi flops onto her side and cocks her leg up in invitation for you to stroke her stomach.  It's slowly starting to expand underneath all the fuzz, and despite your recent panic you still can't help but smile to feel it.  

"Sorry, should've left a note." Behind you, you hear the front door click shut.  Remi quickly has her fill of tummy rubs, and as she runs away back to Holly, you stand up straight and turn to Yoongi, endeared by the uneasy expression on his face and the awkwardness with which he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I keep hearing her whining after I've dropped her off, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for her to just stay a while longer 'till you get home." 

God, there he goes again being an absolute sweetheart. 

"Shouldn't have just assumed," he apologises but you're quick to wave it off, smiling.  

"Not at all.  Just glad she's safe." Yoongi smiles, hands coming out of his pockets, and as he walks on past you into the kitchen you're suddenly hit with the smell of cooking; onions and garlic and a sweet-smelling sauce.  

"You hungry?" he asks as he approaches the stove.  

You can't resist the opportunity to take a really good look at him whilst his back is turned; the epitome of effortless style in his open plaid shirt and skinny jeans.  He's barefoot, you realise, and you're not sure why you find that so attractive but you're not about to go analysing it now. Not when he's turned to look at you so expectantly - almost like you've completely missed something he's just said in favour of ogling how nicely the pockets of his jeans frame each of his perfect little butt cheeks.  

"Sorry?" you ask stupidly.  

"I always make too much," he says, mercifully turning back to his frying pan quick enough that he might have missed the blush on your cheeks. "Plenty to go around.  If you want." 

Wait.  Is Yoongi… Asking you to stay for dinner?  And do your eyes deceive you, or is the back of his neck turning a delightful shade of pink as he waits for you to answer?  

No.  No, that'd just be ridiculous.  You're just leaping to conclusions - presumptuous and delusional - but then… why are there already two place settings laid out on his small dining table?  Why is there an extra wine glass standing empty on the counter next to the one that's only half full?  

Did he… plan this out?  Hell, if he did, you're not about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth.  Fighting back a nervous smile, you remove your cardigan and hang it over the back of one of his bar stools as casually as you can. 

"Sure," you agree, untucking your blouse from your skirt before sliding onto the same stool to watch Yoongi plate up. "Smells a lot better than anything I could cook up." Would it be too much to go unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your blouse too?  Show a little skin?  

You're reaching to do just that when suddenly Yoongi turns around with his frying pan in hand and you promptly chicken out, clearing your throat.  From behind you, Holly and Remi come running into the room, and Yoongi gets distracted when your little lady starts pawing at his leg, vying for attention.  

"You want another treat, huh?" With his free hand, he plucks a little brown ball off of a baking tray by the sink and promptly throws it up in the air for Remi to catch, and as soon as it's within her jaws she lies down and merrily begins to chomp, crunching and munching away.  

"What's that?" you enquire as Yoongi recommences dishing up, spooning a chicken and vegetable something or other onto a bed of rice.  It's a good job you're not a fussy eater or else you might be slightly alarmed that he hasn't even told you what you're having…"The treat, I mean."  He looks up from sliding his frying pan into soapy water already waiting in the sink, glancing down at Remi.  

"Just some recipe I found online," he explains, casual as ever.  He brings over the wine glass you'd noticed earlier and offers to fill it with a tilt of the bottle, doing so when you nod.  "She needs the extra calories."

"You made them yourself?" you ask, incredulous that Yoongi would go so far and be so considerate as to go searching for homemade doggie treats.  He nods somewhat bashfully, avoiding your gaze as he carries both your plates over to the table and takes a seat. "You're unbelievable," you laugh before you can help yourself, wine glass cradled in both hands as you join him at the table.  

Perhaps it might be best not to drink too much of said wine.  Seems your tongue is loose enough already without adding extra lubrication.  

“I just mean-” You hasten to explain your brazen compliment, not missing the way Yoongi’s eyebrows lift in surprise when you reach for chopsticks rather than the knife and fork he’d placed beside your plate. “- My ex couldn’t even be bothered to learn how to use the washing machine, nevermind bake little organic dog treats in his spare time.”

Glancing over at Remi, you see her standing on her hind legs against the kitchen cupboards in desperate hope for more, and damn, now you’ve gotten a taste of Yoongi’s cooking you can totally understand why! 

“Oh my god ,” you groan around your mouthful, chopsticks clicking frantically as you gather up the next, completely distracted from whatever the hell it was you were just saying.  

“It wasn’t all organic,” you hear Yoongi mumble, cheeks pink as he takes a sip of his wine.  Is that just a little alcohol-induced flush you spy?  Or is he secretly flattered?  “Just the peanut butter.”  You smile, chewing ceaselessly as Yoongi deposits one very large mouthful into his not-nearly-so-small-as-it-looks mouth.  He fills his cheeks so full that for a few glorious seconds he resembles some kind of adorable human/hamster hybrid; so cute you just want to reach out and- 

"Always had your ex pegged as kind of an asshole, to be honest," Yoongi admits, eyes focused on his plate, and it's not so much the talking with his mouth full that has you nearly choking on your food - it's the bluntness with which he does it.  He looks up as you splutter, reaching for your wine. "No offence." He looks mildly alarmed as you cough once more. "It's just I used to hear him all the time through the walls, shouting his mouth off." 

"None taken," you wheeze, taking a sip of wine to clear the tickle that's left in your throat.  Your eyes are watering and no doubt your face is red, but that's the least of your worries right now, mortified to imagine just how many arguments Yoongi must've overheard during all the time that douchebag was part of your life.  

"Sorry if I'm overstepping the mark…" You shake your head quickly, waving off his concerns as Remi and Holly come trotting over as though to check on you.  Not that you're so naive as to really believe that - no doubt they're here to scavenge scraps off of the table rather than to ensure your wellbeing.  

"Not at all," you chuckle, "Asshole is probably putting it lightly.  Never really have had the best taste in men." Yoongi exhales a breathy laugh, smiling wryly.  

"Gotta kiss a few frogs to find the Prince, right?" You end up smiling even harder at that, snorting into your wine.   A few is probably an understatement, but that's not information Yoongi needs to know.  

"Sure he'll turn up one day," you muse, sounding ever so slightly wistful.  Your eyes meet Yoongi's from across the table and a beat passes, no words said as the two of you look at one another.  You don't dare move - even breathe - lest you risk breaking… whatever this moment between you may be. 

Unexpectedly, you feel soft fur against the bare skin of your leg and it startles you despite knowing full well what it is.  When you look down, you see Remi staring at you meaningfully, her eyes locked with yours even as she trots her way to the other end of the table to paw at Yoongi's leg, asking for a fuss.  

'I like this one, ' her eyes seem to say as Yoongi reaches down to pet her, smiling fondly, 'You should give this one a try.'

Oh, if only. 

“We can do this more often if you want,” Yoongi offers as his attention returns to his food.  “I don’t mind watching her ‘till you get back from work.”   

“Are you sure?” Once again you’re floored by Yoongi’s casual generosity.  He doesn’t even look up as he bobs his head in confirmation, his mouth too full to respond. 

���She’s no trouble,” he tells you once he’s eventually swallowed, “And Holly likes having her around.”  

“That’d be amazing,” you smile, “Thank you.”  He returns your smile - small, short and sweet - and you swear each and every time he flashes you a grin you end up falling just that little bit more.  

"Does that mean I have even more delicious dinners to look forward to?" you ask, surprising yourself with how flirty you sound.  How brave.  

Yoongi laughs at your forwardness, sputtering into his wine.  You don't really expect him to answer - assume he'll just laugh it off and not say anything at all - but Yoongi looks rather serious as he puts down his glass; his gaze so intense that for a second you actually forget how to chew.  

"If you're lucky," he promises, and oh boy, you hope you will be. "But next time, you bring the wine." 

  And so, you do.  

Every night throughout the week that follows, you pay a visit to the corner store on your way home to pick up a bottle of white, or rose, or red.  You're fairly certain the cashier might suspect you of having some sort of drinking problem, actually, but Yoongi's been so grateful that you can't stand the thought of turning up empty-handed.  And It’s not even as though you always drink the whole bottle, anyway.  It’s just a glass with dinner on Wednesday and Thursday, and then one extra on Friday and Saturday when Yoongi invites you to stay a little longer.  

And ok, so maybe he doesn’t actually ask you to stay, but when a guy starts asking whether you’ve seen this new show he really likes and turns on Netflix, what are you supposed to think?  

You end up thoroughly enjoying the hours you waste away sitting at the opposite end of his sofa with Remi in your lap, even the lazy Sunday evening that Yoongi spends watching some god-awful competitive fishing show that you pretend to like just because it makes him smile.  

It’s funny how simple a creature Yoongi turns out to be, considering how mysterious he’d first seemed.  He’s a man of few words but what he does say is always interesting, and you’d like to think you’ve gotten to know him pretty well as the week’s gone by.  He’s considerate and hard-working, introverted and yet speaks so fondly of the few friends he professes to have.  He loves music and fishing, cooking and expensive wine, and when he’s tipsy his voice gets even slower and deeper - his tone so dulcet that you could happily listen to him talk all night. 

By the end of the week you’ve spent more time in Yoongi’s apartment than you have your own, and you won’t pretend for even a second that you’ve thought that it’s a bad thing.  You’re well and truly smitten; the favourite part of your day now the moment you come home and have both Yoongi and the dogs there to greet you, even though that home is not your own.  

Picturing that - thinking of him - is the only thing that’s gotten you through the shittiness of your last few hours at work.  You really do enjoy your job, for the most part, but some days are inevitably better than others and today… today was a bad, bad, bad day.  The kind of bad day that has you searching the liquor aisle for the whisky with the highest volume of alcohol you can possibly find - the same bottle that you later slam down on Yoongi’s kitchen counter having already let yourself into his apartment, sighing every step of the way.  

“Bad day?” he asks, not yet having turned around to see the miserable look on your face.  You can’t bring yourself to say anything, too focused on trying to hold yourself together after having struggled to do so all afternoon, so you stay quiet as you give Remi the fussing she’s after.  Her tail is wagging with a glee you’re envious of, her fuzzy tummy growing more and more round by the day.  

“I can make this Irish if you want.”  You look up to see Yoongi standing beside you with a mug of coffee held in both hands and a soft smile on his face, and suddenly it’s just all too much.  The dam inside you that’d slowly begin to crack throughout the day finally bursts at the sight of him - overcome with emotion at having him treat you so kindly after having faced such rudeness and meanness for hours on end.  

“I’m sorry!” you squeak out as you burst into tears, your elbows meeting the counter as your face falls into your hands, not wanting to have Yoongi see you cry.  You can’t see anything with your eyes so tightly screwed shut, but if you could you’d witness the look of shock appear on Yoongi’s face - see his eyes widen and his lips slightly part as the rest of him freezes, unsure of what to do.  

You really try your best to stem your tears, but you’re so embarrassed to have him see you like this that it only makes you cry harder, shoulders trembling as you curl in on yourself in an attempt to hide.  

“I just h-had such a h-h-horrible day,” you sob, “This one w-woman - this bitch - she was s-so m-mean and she wouldn’t just-”  You abruptly stop speaking as an arm is suddenly laid across your shoulders, and before you realise what’s happening you’re being pulled into an embrace; your face nestled into a soft sweater.  

“Hey, hey,” you're gently shushed, and it’s not so much that Yoongi's comforting you that helps to calm you down, nor the feel of one of his large hands rubbing up and down the length of your back.  It’s more the shock of having Yoongi actually touch you that allows you to finally start catching your breath, your hands unknowingly reaching out to hold onto him.  “Whatever happened, it’s over now, right?  It’ll be ok,” he soothes.  

“Uh-huh,” you whisper into fabric, silently praying that your nose hasn’t run all over it, and although you’re no longer crying you allow yourself a moment more to enjoy the feel of his arms around you.  He smells wonderful - his slight body warm and firm pressed against you - and all you want to do is tighten your grip on his sweater and pull him even closer; tilt your head to skim your lips against his throat.  

“You ok?” Yoongi asks, and as you finally lift your head and dab away the moisture from under your eyes the last thing you expect is to feel his fingers fleetingly touch your hair.  You meet his gaze and the concern you see there is almost enough to make you start crying all over again - but then you watch as his pupils dart back and forth, up and down as he scans your face - and suddenly… suddenly you're kissing him. 

Or is it him who's kissing you? 

You're not sure who it is that makes the first move, but regardless of whoever the instigator may be, your mouths still meet in the middle.  Yoongi's lips are soft but his kiss is firm - purposeful - and utterly takes your breath away.  You make a grab for him again, clutching at the fabric at his hip to keep him close as you sweep your tongue across the seam of his lips, Yoongi's hands coming to rest upon your face.  They're so warm, so gentle as he traces your cheekbones with his thumbs, and-

All too soon he's pulling away, brought to his senses the moment he feels the moisture that lingers on your cheeks, and the quiet whine of protest that you're unable to hold back has your face burning with shame.  

"S-sorry," he rapidly stammers out as he stumbles back out of reach, retreating to the other side of the counter; a barrier between you.  His cheeks are flushed with the same heat as yours, unable to meet your eyes as he wipes at the corner of his mouth with his thumb and then rubs the side of his neck. "I didn't mean… I mean… you…" 

Oh lord, this is awkward.  So, so awkward!  What the hell did you have to go and kiss him for?!  He looks so painfully uncomfortable right now that you're sure he'd rather melt into the floor than look at you, and oh my god you're such an idiot!  What kind of moron goes snogging someone's face off at the slightest bit of physical contact?  Are you really that touch deprived?! 

"Sorry," he repeats, "You're upset-" You're already up and out of your stool before Yoongi even has the chance to finish his sentence.  

"I should just go," you blurt out as you pick Remi up off the floor and into your arms despite her huffed exhale of protest.  You're being a coward, you know that, but you're too fragile right now to go through the whole 'let you down gently' routine without sobbing all over again - especially if it's coming from someone you're so crazy about.  

No, you'd rather just see yourself out now and save him the bother.  Best for everyone if you just pretend this never happened… 

"Thanks for watching her."  You're moving too quickly for him to protest - to do anything but stand with his mouth agape as you race for the front door like the very flames of hell are licking at your heels.  

"Don't forget your-!" you hear Yoongi call, pulling the front door shut behind you too fast to make out the end of his sentence.  You scurry down the hall back to your own apartment, and it’s only as you’re struggling to get inside with Remi still balanced on your hip that you realise your hands are lightly shaking.  

“Never happened,” you mumble to yourself once you finally get the blasted thing open, relinquishing Remi from where she’d begun to wriggle and squirm in your grasp.  “Never happened.  It was just one stupid, silly kiss.”  You lean back against your front door, exhaling a sigh.  “Just… forget about it.”  

And oh, you really try.  You try everything and anything you can think of to get Yoongi off of your mind, but nothing works; not mindless trash TV, not blasting your favourite tunes while you’re in the shower - not finishing off the bottle of wine leftover from the night before last.  If anything, alcohol just makes things ten times worse.  As you lie on your bed amidst a tipsy haze, all you can think about is the way his lips felt pressed to yours and of how he tasted like the coffee you hadn’t had the chance to drink.  The low noise he’d made in the back of his throat when you’d grabbed at his clothes.  It was so hot… he’s so hot, and more than anything you just want to go back there right now and- 

You groan aloud in frustration, raking your fingers through your hair to keep them from finding their way into your pants.  God, you’re so royally fucked - and not in the way you’re wishing you were - but you’re too far tired and conflicted and just… sad to want to masturbate, no matter how fiercely Yoongi’s kiss may have made you ache.   So you ignore it, cocoon yourself in your duvet whilst Remi snores at your feet, and will yourself to fall asleep whilst silently reassuring yourself that tomorrow is another day.  

Come the next morning (which is mercifully hangover free), you ready yourself for work repeating just that.  Today has to be better - or at least it can't get much worse - and what happened with Yoongi was just… a blip.  Carelessness on your part.  And knowing Yoongi as you now do, you’re sure he’ll be far too much of a gentleman to mention it anyway.  

That’s if he doesn’t ghost you entirely, of course, which is a legitimate possibility.  

Luckily, your day does turn out a whole lot better than the one that came before; a small mercy, given how worked up you've been worrying about where to expect to find Remi once you get home.  Whether it be in your apartment or Yoongi's, you're unsure which option would be preferable.   If she's waiting at Yoongi's you'll have no choice but to go over there and face the consequences of last night's actions - a thought you by no means relish - but if she's at yours… well, you suppose that might just be even worse.    

You’re not too proud to admit that Yoongi's help with Remi has been invaluable over the past weeks, and if you're being honest, his friendship has too.  You can't imagine going back to the way it was before: barely seeing one another, exchanging nothing but awkward smiles in the hallway.  If he were to walk out of your life now you would really, really miss him - to say the least.  And that's… kind of terrifying.  

At heart, though, you’re a positive person, and you want to believe that things will just carry on the way they have before.  And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but your hope is what has you stopping by the same old corner store on the way home and picking up a bottle of wine from a brand you know Yoongi likes, just as you’ve done so many times before.  And maybe it might be considered hedging your bets, but after the grocery store you head across the street to one of the local takeout places, too.  You know Yoongi’s all about meat, meat and more meat when it comes to food, so it’s not hard for you to figure out what to order; lamb skewers, tempura shrimp, spicy pork belly.  Some of it you don’t even like yourself, so you hope to god Remi’s waiting at Yoongi’s and not at yours otherwise there’s a hell of a lot of food about to go to waste.

You order so much, in fact, that your arms are aching by the time you get home - though that does nothing to distract you from the way your heart starts to gallop when it comes time to put your keys in the lock and open up your front door.   You hold your breath as it swings open, eyes closing for a second as you pray not to hear the click-clack of Remi’s claws on the floor, and when nothing comes you sigh with relief, never so glad to be greeted by an empty home.  

“Thank the lord,” you murmur as you place everything down on the kitchen table, figuring you may as well use this chance to quickly get changed and freshen up before heading next door.  Normally you’d just go round in your work clothes, and truthfully there’s nothing actually wrong with what you’re already wearing, but you appreciate just a little bit of extra time to mentally prepare.

Not that it helps, of course.   Whether in a skirt or jeans, you’re crapping your pants just as much as you knock on his door but you plaster a smile on your face nonetheless, holding aloft your wine and takeout bags as the door starts to open.  

“Hi,” you beam as Yoongi appears, “I brought goodies!”  He looks mildly taken aback by the sight of you and how bubbly you sound - even more so when you stride forward to enter without him yet having said a word.  “You’re not cooking yet,” you observe as you enter the kitchen and hear the front door shut behind you, Yoongi’s soft footfalls across the floor following shortly after, “Good.”  

You turn on the spot, grinning inanely as you try not to make it too obvious that you’re checking him out.  Must he really look so effortlessly stylish all the time?   He even has that whole ‘just got out of bed’ ruffled hair thing going on, and god, you hate him for how badly it makes you want to run your fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks.  

“Where’s Rem?” you ask before your thoughts run too far amok, tearing your eyes away from him in favour of peering over his shoulder towards the living room.  

“Think they’re in my room,” he explains, fingers fiddling with the arm of the glasses he’s wearing and then straying into his hair to scratch at his scalp.  He must’ve been in his studio prior to your arrival - it’s the only time you really ever see him wearing his glasses.  “She’s been acting kinda weird today.”  

Frowning, you follow after him as he leads you down the hallway towards his bedroom.  You try not to focus on the fact that this will have been the first time you’ve seen it, or mourn that now that you are it’s in less-than-sexy circumstances.  

“What do you mean ‘weird’?” 

“Just… restless, I guess.  She didn’t wanna walk but I had to stop her scratching up the carpet ‘cus she keeps wanting to dig.”  He pushes open the door and immediately you gasp, freezing in the doorway.  Yoongi sighs heavily, surveying the damage before him.  “And ruin my bedding, apparently.”  

To be fair, it's not really that bad - and you're not just saying that because Remi's your dog and you're a wee bit overprotective, either.  Yes, there's one pillow that's been pulled off the bed and had its stuffing ripped out, but aside from that all that's really moved is his sheets, and whilst they've been pulled into a heap the floor there doesn't appear to be any other damage or… bodily fluids amidst them.  

"Oh Rem, what've you been up to?" you coo, kneeling down beside the heap of blankets that the two dogs are curled up amongst.  Holly comes alive at the sound of your voice, instantly perking up, and within seconds he's on his feet and visiting you and Yoongi in turn for a scratch behind the ears.  Remi, however, is somewhat lazier in her response.  She lifts her head slowly, emitting a pathetic little sound as she gazes up at you, pointed ears pressed back against the top of her head.  

"What's wrong girl?" Concerned, you're cautious in the way you put your hands on her, but you're relieved to find she's just as eager to receive affection as ever.  It's only when you run your hand across her belly that she seems to object, her small body tensing.  

"She's been in here for a couple hours," Yoongi informs you as he comes to kneel beside you on the carpet. "I tried to feed her dinner but she wasn't interested - thought it might've been something to do with her throwing up earlier on." 

"You think we should call the vet?" Yoongi shakes his head as Holly comes to reclaim his spot next to his lady friend.  Snuggling in close, he gives her an affectionate lick.  

"I thought about it," he admits, giving Remi's head a gentle pat, "But I don't think she's sick.  I think she's in labour." 

"Really?" Now that you think about it, the time frame does seem about right.  You just hadn't expected it to happen so soon… 

"Called my brother and he seems to think so." Looking up from Remi your gaze meets Yoongi's, and you figure it must show on your face how overwhelmed you're feeling because the smile that he gives you is a kind one.  

"So, what do we do?" you ask, sinking back from your knees and onto your bottom instead, crossing your legs.  Yoongi copies you, and for a second your eyes dart to the expanse of skin that's revealed to you through the rip in his jeans, right across the thigh.  

"Not much, apparently.  Not unless something goes wrong and Remi needs a hand."  You feel anxiety twist your expression and Yoongi brow furrows in sympathy, his fingers drumming against his knees.  "We've just gotta sit and wait." You chuckle mirthlessly, rolling your eyes.  

"Never really been the patient type." Yoongi smiles, rising to his feet and placing his hand on your shoulder as he goes, giving it a squeeze that makes your stomach go topsy-turvy.  

"I guess I better go get us some supplies to keep us going then, huh?" 

"That'd be good," you smile, blushing as he squeezes it once more before finally letting go.  You turn back to Remi as he leaves the room, worrying your bottom lip until you unexpectedly hear him call your name.  He lingers in the doorway, one hand on the frame.  

"Everything's gonna be fine," he assures you. "Trust me." And somehow, without question, you do.  

  It's a little odd, really, how effortlessly things have gone back to normal considering what went on between you last night.  Perhaps it's the pressure of the unfamiliar situation you've been thrust into that's redirected your attention elsewhere and thereby alleviated the tension. Or maybe it was just never as big of a deal as you'd made it out to be in your head.  Either way, you're grateful.  

That's not to say there's no tension at all, mind, but rather than making things feel uncomfortable it's more like… like there's a charge between you.  A spark.  You can feel it all the while you're sat eating dinner together cross-legged on his bedroom floor, lips tingling from how spicy (albeit delicious) the food is.  Coy smiles and stolen glances are made amongst idle chit-chat, distracting you from the waves of worry that rise and then recede with each little sound that Remi makes which turn out to be nothing.  

You've no idea how long labour usually tends to last for dogs, but you can only hope that if or when you ever decide to have children, that you handle it just as quietly and calmly as Remi.  You hope whoever you’re with is attentive as Holly, too, and you know that’s an odd thing to think but you can’t help but admire the way he is with her; laying patiently just a few feet away, his attention unwavering.  

Technically you know it isn’t the norm for the ‘daddy dog’ to be around while his bitch is giving birth (or at least so Yoongi had said), just in case his presence made Remi nervous or agitated, but these pair seem to be a bit an anomaly in that respect.  When Yoongi had tried to extract Holly from the room prior to eating dinner, Remi had gotten more restless than ever and so you’d been forced to let him back in despite all the guidance advising the contrary.  You’ll just have to keep an extra close eye on him when the puppies actually arrive, you suppose, though you know you can rely on Yoongi to keep him in line.  

And to be fair, it seems as though you’re able to rely on Yoongi an awful lot in general these days.  Having been so preoccupied with your new job you’ve done shamefully little research as to what to expect and how to prepare for Remi to give birth, naively believing that you still had plenty of time to spare. 

Lucky for you, Yoongi seems to have everything handled; the ‘supplies’ he’d previously mentioned turning out to be a heap of freshly washed towels, shiny surgical scissors and some sort of sucker device - the likes you imagine to be used for clearing snotty babies noses.  You eye it nervously as you finish your last mouthful of shrimp, silently hoping you won’t need anything other than the towels and a little bit of luck.  

“Thanks for dinner.”  You drag your eyes away from the scissors, Yoongi’s voice having interrupted your thoughts.  

“No worries,” you reply, smiling gratefully as Yoongi takes your empty plate from your hands to stack it on top of his own.  He puts them aside for a moment as he dutifully tidies everything away, putting the empty food cartons back into the plastic bag from whence they came.  “About time I returned the favour.”  Yoongi smiles wryly, no doubt too polite to point out that buying takeout and preparing a home-cooked meal isn’t quite the same thing.  

“To be honest,” he says, using his preoccupation as a good excuse to avoid your gaze, “I wasn’t sure whether you were even going to come over tonight.”  

Well, there goes the hope that you’d get through the evening without last night’s faux pas being mentioned.  

“Well, it’s not like I could just leave Remi here…” you mumble, glancing away as Yoongi sits back down beside you having finished clearing up.  You don’t want him to think that that’s the only reason you came but you’re not sure what else to say, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your sleeves.  

There’s a moment of silence - a pause long enough that it prompts you to look up, and when you do you see that Yoongi looks just as nervous as you feel, picking at his cuticles.  

“I…” He hesitates, huffing as though he’s almost frustrated with himself before forcing himself to look at you.  His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’m glad you did, though.  I wanted a chance to say I’m sorry for last night, for-” 

“Don’t,” you interrupt, surprising yourself.  His eyes widen behind his glasses, his mouth hanging open having been caught off guard, and god damn it, he looks adorable.  “We’re friends, right?  I don’t want us to have to keep apologising to each other all the time for every little thing.”  Yoongi nods, shutting his mouth. 

Was that… disappointment you saw in his eyes when you referred to him as your friend?  Yoongi smiles weakly but it looks forced - unnatural - and it disappears too fast for it to have been real.  In its wake a frown appears, one that deepens as his attention returns to Remi, and it makes you ache in your chest to see it.  Since you’ve become closer, you’ve gotten so used to seeing his smile and hearing him laugh that this just feels wrong.  

All of this - you hiding the way you feel, pretending like last night’s kiss wasn’t the best thing to happen to you in… in forever;  acting like Yoongi isn’t the best thing to happen to you in forever - it’s all wrong.  You should tell him what he means to you.  You need to.  

“Yoongi,” you say gently, calling back his attention, and when he looks at you your stomach churns so fiercely with nerves you fear you might lose your dinner.  You swallow, trying to get a hold of yourself, and bravely reach out to snatch his hand up from where it rested on his knee, threading your fingers between his.  He looks down dumbly at your conjoined hands, eyes even wider than they were before.  “I… I didn’t mind it.  When you kissed me.”  You feel your cheeks burning with heat but force yourself to continue, reassured that Yoongi hasn’t immediately pulled his hand away.  “Or when I kissed you. However it happened.”  You titter a nervous laugh, acutely aware of how clammy your palms are, and you’re glad to see that Yoongi looks just as affected by your confession as you are; every inch of his skin flushed a pretty blush pink under his normal skin tone.  “There was never anything to apologise for.”  

You flash him a nervous smile once you’ve finally done talking, giving his hand a squeeze of encouragement in hopes that he won’t leave you hanging too long before voicing some sort of reply.  A confession of undying love is preferable, obviously, but short of that just knowing he’s not totally repulsed would be enough. 

You can’t say you expect the sudden laugh he lets out - nor know what to make of it - and you’re just about to start freaking out and pull your hand away when Yoongi shifts closer to you and places his other hand over the two of yours.  The rubbing of his thumb back and forth across your skin helps to calm you, and he’s no longer laughing as he looks into your eyes, taking a breath.  He quietly calls your name, leaning closer.  

And then suddenly, Remi whines, and the two of you instantly break apart.  

“You ok Rem?” Quickly, you rise to your knees and shuffle towards her, frowning with concern.  You don’t mean to panic, but this is the first sound of obvious distress you’ve heard from her and you can’t stand the thought of your sweet girl being in pain.  

She looks up at you from where she’s nestled amongst Yoongi’s covers, panting hard, and you have to force yourself not to reach out to give her the fussing that you’re longing to.  Beside you, Yoongi watches her closely; observes the way she stops panting just for a second or two and seems to stiffen slightly before beginning to pant all over again. 

“Is she ok?” you ask, though you’re not sure why you’re presuming that Yoongi will know any more about what’s going on than you do.  

Tentatively, Yoong reaches out and lays both hands on Remi’s stomach, waiting for the next pause in her panting.  His eyes narrow, fingers twitching atop her fur.  

“Her tummy feels hard,” he says, “I think she’s starting to push.”  

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath, blushing when Yoongi chuckles in response.  He removes his hands from her, placing them back on his lap just in time for Remi to decide she wants to move, and she rises from where’s lain in the duvet all this time and begins to circle and paw at the covers, panting ceaselessly.  

“You can do it, girl.”  Following Yoongi’s lead, you reach out and gently stroke her back in reassurance, very nearly bursting into tears when Remi chases after your hand when you pull it back, nuzzling into your palm.  “We’ve got this.”  

  The next two hours pass by in something of a blur.  You all maintain a careful distance (Holly included), giving affection when it seems like she's in need of it and holding back whenever she seems agitated or restless.  She must get up and down to rearrange the sheets underneath her at least a hundred times before the first puppy is born, and you watch on with a mixture of horror and wonderment as it slowly emerges from inside her, trying your best not to cry at the sudden squeal she releases as her baby starts to crown, bottom first.  

You won't lie, it's probably one of the most disgusting sights you've ever seen, and yet you can't help but feel overcome with emotion as you watch this puppy arrive into the world, still cocooned in its amniotic sac until Remi instinctively begins to lick it clean.  She brings it to life with firm laps of her tongue, not stopping till its little body starts to wriggle and it releases the tiniest of squeaks.  Frankly, it's a good job the puppy is so cute, as it gives you something to focus on as Remi decides to chow down on the placenta, thereby separating it from her offspring.  

By the time the second puppy is born the first has already started to feed, it's head almost completely hidden by Remi's fur as it latches on.  That birth is just as straightforward, too, though Yoongi does have to shorten its umbilical cord slightly when Remi leaves it dangling just a little too long.  You're in awe of how confident and competent he seems as he does it, not a hint of hesitation evident on his face from the moment he realises what's needed to the moment it's done.  

Ah, if only you could ever be so cool. 

It’s only as the third and final puppy is being born that you start to encounter some trouble.  You almost start to believe the scan had been wrong and you were only ever expecting two puppies, figuring that Remi must be done having not pushed in almost an hour and a half.  But then all of a sudden she’s restless again and after a few minutes more another puppy begins to emerge.  The sac of waters around this one looks different - so green and dark that you almost can’t make out what’s inside at all.  

“Yoongi.”  You say his name out of sheer nervousness, already knowing he’s right there beside you seeing the same very thing.  Just like before, the puppy slides out in the amniotic sac onto the towel placed underneath Remi’s back end, but this time she doesn’t seem to pay nearly so much attention to it as she did the others - sparing it just enough licks to break the sac and then turning away, closing her eyes.  

All of Remi’s puppies so far have been just as white in colour as Remi herself, and so would this puppy be if its fur weren’t stained an unpleasant shade of green.  By Remi’s hind legs it lies limply on the towel; unmoving, unbreathing.  

“Yoongi,” you choke out, your eyes spilling over with tears, “Yoongi, it’s not breathing.  Yoongi, it-” Stifling a sob, you slap your hands over your mouth as Yoongi springs into action next to you.

Brow furrowed in concentration, he snatches up the scissors and deftly separates the puppy from its placenta just like he did for the one that came before.  He scoops it up in both hands and tilts its head down in order to help any fluids that might remain to drain out, murmuring urgently under his breath.  

“Pass me the sucker,” he suddenly demands, outstretching his hand, and you rush to obey, your own hands shaking as you place it in his palm and watch on as he precedes to suction each of the puppy’s tiny nostrils and mouth.  You pray that that will do the job.  To see some sort of response, the tiniest wiggle or smallest of sounds.  Anything!  But nothing happens - nothing at all - and you can tell even Yoongi’s starting to get desperate.  

“C’mon little guy,” he mumbles, wrapping the puppy in the towel and starting to vigorously rub its back, its stomach, its head - up and down all over, over and over again.  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”  Even Yoongi’s eyes are looking glassy now, the tip of his nose turning red as he holds back the tears that you’ve long since succumbed to.  

And then, just as your face falls into your hands and a sob shakes your shoulders, you hear the tiniest, most fragile of sounds.   A squeak followed by a sharp inhale of breath, and when you sharply look up you see that the tiniest puppy of the litter so far has finally begun to squirm, its mouth opening up wide to display the tiny pink tongue within.  

“Oh my god!”  You’re half laughing half crying as Yoongi stares down at the new life down within his hands, his eyes wide with wonderment.  There are tears trickling down his cheeks but he’s smiling more brightly than you’ve ever seen before, and he’s so heart-breakingly gentle as he lowers the puppy back down to Remi’s level and presents him to her.  

“You did so good, girl,” he praises, voice thick with emotion as Remi begins to lick the puppy with renewed enthusiasm.  She only stops once Yoongi slowly moves him away to nestle him in between his siblings, encouraging him to feed with softly whispered words of encouragement, and he waits until the puppy is eagerly suckling to finally let go and back off, exhaling a sigh of relief.  

"Well, that was-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to finish what he's saying, abruptly silenced apart from the one lone 'oomph' he grunts out as your bodies collide, dropping the towel with which he'd just been wiping his hands.  

"You-" you mumble against his lips between each frantic, urgent kiss. "You - are - amazing." He's blindsided and you can't blame him; unresponsive and unyielding.  But Yoongi soon gets with the program, his arms looping around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.  

His face is wet when you take it in your hands - just like yours - but those tears are long forgotten as the two of you quickly become lost in one another.  It feels so exhilarating to have Yoongi kiss you back so enthusiastically; makes you believe that maybe he's been thinking about this just as much as you.  To hear him sigh your name has you melting against him, your whole body aflame with molten fire, and when you gently bite his lip it delights you even more to hear the way his breath hitches. 

"You really weren't kidding, were you?" Yoongi asks as he attempts to catch his breath, your attention now focused on trailing kisses along the angle of his jaw. 

"About what?" you murmur in reply, grinning against his skin as his hands grab at your clothes when you softly nip at his earlobe.  

"About not minding about the kiss."

"Oh no, not at all," you admit, tone playful, and you're just about to begin tracing kisses down his neck when one of Yoongi's hands finds your chin and tilts your head up, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips are curved in a gentle smile as he brushes them against yours, chuckling when you attempt to chase after them as he pulls away. 

"Good to know." His eyes follow the movement of his thumb as he drags it across your bottom lip, moistening his own with a flick of his tongue.  His touch lingers at the corner of your mouth for just a second longer, and in that moment you can feel your heart racing at the thought of what he might do next.  "As much as I'd like to explore this further-" 

Beside you, you hear the sound of Remi's puppies softly squeaking, and when you look down to where Remi's lay, you see that Holly has used your momentary distraction as an opportunity to start sneaking over, sniffing at the air.  You look back to Yoongi and are met with a regretful smile as he takes his hands off of you in favour of straightening the glasses that had been knocked askew by your passion.  

"Right," you sigh, looking around at all of the surrounding mess, "We're grandparents now, huh?  Have to be responsible.  Mature."  ie. not go carrying on like a pair of horny teenagers while there are still pieces of placenta strewn about the place.

Yoongi looks up at you from where he's already knelt down gathering up some of the dirty towels.  He smirks in a way you've never seen from him before - a way that makes your insides clench with excitement.  

"For now, sure.”

  You're infinitely grateful that Yoongi doesn't put you in charge of any of the messy stuff when it comes to clearing up.  All he tasks you with is watching over the puppies and keeping a very curious Holly at bay from his new offspring whilst Remi recovers and he deals with the carnage that's been left behind.  It's not a difficult job by any means. Holly is more than happy to be waylaid by tickles under the chin and tummy rubs, and you're thankful for that given how preoccupied you are with the images of what’s just happened as they replay over and over in your head.  

You still can't believe that you kissed him.  That you kissed Yoongi and he kissed you back - kissed you back and, unless you're horribly mistaken, wanted more .   And what did he mean 'for now'?  Does he want to pick up where you left off tonight?  Tomorrow?  Maybe he's just saying that to give himself an out in the future?  Just in case he changes his mind… 

No, no, he wouldn't do that.  No one could kiss like that if they weren't really into it, and god , what a kiss.  It may have been a while, but you can't even remember the last time locking lips had you feeling so hot and heavy.  Have you ever had a kiss quite like that before?  You’re sure you’d remember it if you had.  

“How’re they doing?”  You automatically smile at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, hoping that the flush of your cheeks won’t give away the explicit nature of the daydreaming he’s just interrupted.  Stood in the doorway, you notice he’s no longer wearing his glasses, though the evidence of them remains in the pink indentations on either side of his nose.  Now that his glasses are gone the dark circles under his eyes are more evident, and you feel your brow creasing with worry as he enters the room and bends down next to you, stifling a yawn as he gives Holly a little love behind the ears.  

Whilst not being the most physically strenuous of evenings, tonight has been emotionally demanding for you both, and it’s only now as you realise that that you come to appreciate how utterly drained you feel.  You can only assume Yoongi feels similarly, given by the slightly glazed look in his eyes as he checks in on the puppies, one by one.  

“They’re doing pretty good, I think.”  Or at least, you think they are.  One by one the puppies had stopped nursing and fallen asleep next to one another, each with a full round belly.  That can only be a good thing, right?  “Remi’s pooped.”  She hasn’t moved since giving birth, as fast asleep as the puppies laid at her side.  

“She’s earned her rest,” Yoongi admires fondly, giving her a very brief pad on the head so as not to wake her.  You ‘mm’ your agreement, swallowing back the emotion that rises once more in your chest.  You’re so proud it almost makes you ache.  “I was thinking,” he continues, turning his attention to you, “Seems a shame to move her.  You want to sleep here tonight so you can still keep an eye?”  

You feel your lips part at his question, your mind automatically falling straight into the gutter.  So he does mean to continue things tonight, then…  

Seeing your expression, Yoongi grins wolfishly as he stands, letting out a chuckle.   

“The couch pulls out into a futon, so you can take the bed, if you do want to stay.  

Oh.  So, maybe not then… 

You desperately try not to let the disappointment show in your face but you figure it must at least a little seeing as Yoongi begins to laugh again, eyes full of mirth.  He extends his hand to you to help you stand and you marvel once more at how long his fingers are as they thread between yours; how delicate yet so strong.  The last thing you expect is to be pulled into his arms again so soon and so suddenly, near losing your balance as Yoongi draws you near.

“You’re cute when you pout,” he teases, taking your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a gentle pinch.  The smirk he’s wearing is as infuriating as it is sexy and you’re powerless to resist as Yoongi leans in to brush his lips ever so sweetly against yours, ever so fleeting.  

He’s enjoying this too much, damn it.  You should’ve never given yourself away!  Can he feel how hard your heart is beating, you wonder?  Can he feel how much you want him from how needily you grab at his belt loops?

“Let’s not rush anything,” he mumbles as you insist on kissing him once more, leaning forward onto your tippy-toes.  Sighing, you eventually pull away, eyes opening to see Yoongi looking down at you with thinly veiled amusement.  His smile is fond rather than teasing, though, so you let it slide.  He’s right, anyway, you suppose.  The two of you have only just revealed your mutual affection for one another; no need to go jumping into bed straight away.  

Ugh, being mature sucks.  

Reluctantly, you part ways for the time being and head back to your own apartment to ready yourself for bed.  You fill the small wash bag you usually take on vacation with all the toiletries you might need before embarking on the arduous task of deciding what to change into.  Do you go for ultimate comfort and opt for a baggy t-shirt and sweats, or do you dress to impress and slip on a silky camisole?  

It takes you a shameful amount of time to decide but in the end you settle on a compromise; one of your cuter, cotton t-shirts and a pair of shorts of a slightly more modest length.  After all, Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that getting laid isn’t on the cards tonight.  No point in making too much of an effort - he might start to think you’re not coming back if you take the time to go shave your legs.  You cast them a cursory glance as you slip on your sliders ready to go back next door; they’re not obviously fuzzy from a distance, at least.  

When you get back to Yoongi’s apartment, he’s nowhere to be seen.  You figure he must be in the spare bedroom changing (and boy are you envious he has one of those) because he’s not in his own, and wherever he is he must’ve taken Holly with him as Remi and her puppies continue to sleep just as soundly as when you left.  He’s clearly been busy, though; there are fresh sheets on the bed, the corner of the duvet pulled back as though inviting you in.  Considerate as always.  

You figure you may as well carry on getting ready for bed in Yoongi’s absence, and with a yawn and a rub of your eyes, you dig out your toothbrush and head toward the bathroom, sliders slapping against the floor.  

“Oh!”  You almost drop your brush when you push open the bathroom door and find Yoongi inside, Holly sitting obediently at his feet.  You thank God he’s merely brushing his teeth and not in the shower - or worse, on the toilet - though you still stutter apologies and start to leave until Yoongi waves a hand to beckon you in, unbothered.  He smiles at you in the mirror, lips lined with foam, and you shyly smile in return as he hands you the very same toothpaste.  

Together, the two of you stand and brush your teeth; the room silent other than the rustling of bristles against enamel.  Your eyes keep meeting in the mirror and oh, how you wish you were able to ignore the way your face begins to blush and how Yoongi’s smile just grows and grows the more embarrassed you get.  It’s just so domestic, the two of you, stood side by side like this.  Like you’re husband and wife just going about your normal nightly routine; you’ll spit and rinse and then dab your mouths with matching ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels.  

Hey, a girl can dream, right?  

“Thanks for getting the bed all sorted,” you say once you’re all done and Yoongi follows you out into the hallway with a nod and a ‘no problem’.  

“Just come wake me up if you need anything, alright?”  This time it’s your turn to nod, and you’re about to head back to Yoongi’s room when he suddenly reaches out and brushes his thumb against your cheek, smiling softly.  It grows when you lean into his touch, sighing, and you see his chest rise and fall with a heavy inhale before he reluctantly pulls away.  His hand falls back to his side and you have to resist the urge to reach out and take it in your own.

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you bid him, his name heavy on your tongue.  

“Goodnight,” he replies, and just the timbre of Yoongi’s voice alone is enough to make your stomach flip with excitement.  It makes it hard to drag yourself away, and even harder to force yourself to relax once you finally slip between Yoongi’s sheets, knowing that he’s just down the hall.  It doesn’t help that they smell just like him, too, despite being clean, and maybe it makes you a bit of a creeper but you won’t deny that you take great pleasure in snuggling your face into Yoongi’s pillow, wishing you lying on his chest instead.   

  You don’t know exactly how long it takes you to fall asleep, nor how long you’re asleep before the sound of Yoongi’s voice awakens you.  Bleary-eyed, you look towards the door and see a slip of light shining beneath from the light in the hallway, disturbed by the movement of shadow.  

“Sorry, Hol. you can’t go in there.” you hear Yoongi whispering on the other side of the door.  “The ladies need their rest.”  Listening to them, you can’t help but internally ‘aww’.  Apparently, Holly must miss Remi as much as she does when they’re parted, and oh how you wish she could actually understand a word you say so you could prod her awake and tell her so.  “You don’t think I wish I was in there as well?”  

Wide-eyed, you stare out into the darkness on hearing what Yoongi had said, hands clasped atop your chest.  Is that true?  Does he really want to be in here with you, sharing this bed?  You can’t imagine any reason for it to be a lie; you know all your whispered confessions to Remi are always true enough.   

What should you do?  Would he be embarrassed if he knew you’d heard?  Should you - 

“C’mon, let’s go,” you hear him say, the shadows beneath the door disappearing, and it’s that sudden loss that forces you into the split decision you make that has you leaping up out of bed and flinging open Yoongi’s door before he can get too far away.  

“You can sleep in here, if you want,” you declare, ever so slightly out of breath.  You wish you’d spared a thought as to whether your hair might be a mess but fuck it, Yoongi’s already turned around and seen you now.  “If it’s easier.”  A hesitant smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks you up and down but there’s no such uncertainty from Holly; he happily runs right by you the moment there’s an opening, tail wagging up a storm.  

“You sure?” he checks, taking a step forward and oh jesus, of course you’re sure when he’s stood there looking - sounding - like he does; voice rough with sleep, hair tousled and half-dressed.  You can only be grateful that he doesn’t sleep topless or else you might just combust on the spot, so deliciously tight are the boxers he’s wearing.  

“He’s just gonna keep you up all night otherwise.”  You try to sound casual, you really do, but the nervous little giggle that escapes you as Yoongi enters your personal space gives you away.  He grins as he passes you in the doorway to head towards the bed, and just before you shut the door to plunge you both back into darkness you see him reach out and pull back the covers from the right-hand side of the bed.  

“You sleep on the left,” he says as he climbs in, sheets rustling, “Good.”  He must sleep on the right then, you’re guessing, and it makes you more happy than it should do to learn this, smiling to yourself in the dark.  You can hear the puppies snuffling around as you tentatively make your way over to the bed, but you're sure Remi will alert you if there's a problem.   Right now, you're too busy mustering up the courage to climb back into bed next to a man you've been fantasising about for so long.  

“Don't stand there getting cold.”  After such a long night, Yoongi’s probably too eager for sleep to have much patience for you dithering around at the bedside.  Now that your eyes have started to adjust to the lack of light, you can just about make out his face turned towards you, watching as you finally climb into bed, and it does nothing to lessen the nervous fluttering of your heart. 

You’re so tense; uncertain of how to lie or how close you ought to get.  You end up lying flat on your back for lack of a better idea, trying not to fidget as you stare up at the ceiling, and even though you’re not touching, you’re acutely aware of Yoongi’s body just a few inches away.  His breaths are slow and steady - nothing like your subtle, shallow inhales - and you lie there wishing that you had any hope of remaining as cool and calm as he always seems to be.

Eventually, though, your panic begins to wane, enough that you trust yourself to speak without giving yourself away.  

“Night Yoongi,” you whisper, not sure if he’s even still awake.  You hear a soft sigh and the rustling of sheets from what you presume must be him turning over to make himself more comfortable.  Soothed by his lack of reply, you, too, roll over in hopes of finally falling back to sleep, but when you’re met by the sight of Yoongi’s dark eyes looking back at you, you’re nothing but wide awake.  

“Hi,” he murmurs quietly, and even in the dark you can make out the subtle curve of his mouth as he smiles.  Your heart thuds in your chest, your throat suddenly dry, and even though you open your mouth to reply no sound has the chance to come out because faster than you can realise what’s happening, Yoongi’s closed the space between you and stolen your voice with a kiss.  

This isn’t a kiss like the last one you shared.  He was holding back last time - careful, gentle kisses that never lingered, never deepened - but this time is different.  This time, Yoongi kisses like he means to consume you, with a hunger so fierce that it sparks a yearning just as voracious within you.  It burns through you as Yoongi leans over your body, the weight of his own forcing you to roll onto your back as his fingers weave their way into your hair.  

Willingly, you submit to him in each way in which he asks, one by one; when he coaxes his way into your mouth with the press of his tongue, when you hook your leg over his hip when the hand that was in your hair slides down onto your ass, pulling your pelvis towards him.  

“Wha-” You gasp as he rocks his hips against you, only breaking your kiss out of the necessity to breathe, and the moment you do Yoongi simply finds another target for his lips, trailing them along the length of your jaw.  “What happened to- to not rushing anything?” 

“Fuck what I said,” he mumbles in reply, voice laden with desire.  Yoongi doesn’t curse very often but there’s something so hot about him doing it now between teasing your throat with his teeth and rubbing himself up against you.  “I’ve wanted you for months.”  

Well, that makes two of you then.  And he’s not lying, either; you can feel him growing steadily harder against your leg each time your bodies move, seeking out one another’s body heat.  

“Can I take these off?”  You feel his fingers lingering at the waistband of your shorts and eagerly you nod, pulling down one side as he handles the other till you’re able to kick them off somewhere beneath the covers.  

“Please.”  Rolling onto your back, you take Yoongi with you, seeking out his lips with your own.  While his hand reaches between your legs, you’re busy tugging at his t-shirt, baring his torso just in time for your fingernails to dig into his shoulders at the first touch of his fingers, gasping as he brushes the tips featherlight against you.  

“Baby,” he groans, and you preen at his use of the pet name, “You’re so wet.”  And you can feel that it’s true - can feel how sinfully his digits are able to slip and slide about your cunt, teasing their way between your lips.  

“Please Yoongi,” you plead, reaching between your bodies to grasp his wrist and tugging, tilting your pelvis up.  You’ve been dreaming about having his fingers inside you for so long that you’ve no shame in showing him just how much you want it.  You bite your bottom lip as he gazes down at you; watching, waiting to see your reaction as he presses one finger inside.  

“Haa!” you cry out, head tipping back into the pillow, and your eyes are too tightly pressed shut to see the way Yoongi smiles in satisfaction.  Craving more from you, one finger quickly becomes two, and you can’t help but grab at his shoulders for purchase as he so deftly stretches you open.  Each motion - each thrust and curl of Yoongi’s fingers - makes the most obscene of noises, so gratuitous is your want for him.  

Suddenly, Yoongi ceases your kissing, an urgent look in his eyes.

“Can I get a taste?”  His request has your pelvic muscles clenching around his fingers with excitement - a response you presume Yoongi rightly perceives as your consent, given the cocky smile that appears on his face.  

“Only if you’re as good as your tongue as you are with those fingers,” you tease, breathless.  You’re pleased by the way he chuckles - even more so by his reply.  

“Even better,” he promises, and though you mourn the loss of his fingers as they withdraw, you’re filled with too much anticipation to really care.  His eyes fixed on yours, Yoongi kisses his way down your body, making sure to spare time for each of your breasts along the way.  Through the material of your t-shirt he suckles and licks till the material has turned see-through, and only then does he hitch it up under your chin to reveal your chest and repeat the whole process again.  He lingers long enough to leave no doubt that he’s as talented with his tongue as he’s said, your nipples tingling long after he’s done drawing them out, stiffened into tight little peaks.  

Your hips are squirming by the time Yoong’s head is between your legs.  He holds them steady with firm hands as he kisses at your inner thighs, twice suckling hard enough for you to know he’ll have left a mark - evidence of his desire.  Your want to see him clearly is at odds with how comforting you find the dark, less self-conscious in knowing that even as Yoongi’s parts your lips with his thumb and forefinger, you’re not quite so brazenly exposed.  

“Tell me what you like,” Yoongi instructs as he makes himself comfortable on his stomach.  You mumble your agreement, heart hammering with a mixture of nerves and excitement because, in all honesty, this has never really been your favourite thing before.  You don’t want him to be disappointed if this doesn’t get you there, hoping he’ll realise that it’s more about the journey than the destination.  

He starts slow; long, luxurious laps up and down, ascending from your perineum and back again to gather your essence on his tongue.  He moans as he does it, and just hearing how much he seems to be enjoying the taste of you makes it feel all the better as he does it once more.  

“I like that,” you sigh, hips shifting to get more comfortable as you close your eyes and focus on the sensation of his tongue.  His hands are on your thighs as your own make their way down into his hair, and it’s just as soft as you imagine it to be - Yoongi near purring with pleasure into your heat every time you dig your fingers in whenever something feels particularly good.  

“Mm, o-ooh, I like that too.”  Your moans become more frequent as Yoongi focuses his attention on your clitoris, the tip of his tongue gradually gaining in speed now that Yoongi’s found his purpose.  For someone who has such a small mouth and such a dainty, kittenish tongue, you had no idea he could be so skilled with it - so deft as it wriggles beneath your clitoral hood in delicious figures of eight.  “Fuck, that feels good…”  

With each second longer that he continues, you can feel a heat gradually rising within you.  It starts right there between your legs, burning in your core, but soon you can feel the flush all the way up to your chest and your back is beginning to sweat, your mouth open so each breath is a pant - a gasping moan.  

In search of relief you tug off your t-shirt, but it does little to cool you down.  Not when Yoongi seems determined to have you falling apart on the end of his tongue, not giving you a moment's reprieve even when your hips grow restless, toes curling into the blankets.  

“Oh, oh, Yoongi,” you pant, one hand fisted in his hair whilst your other is grabbing at your own.  Your fingers wind in so tight that Yoongi responds in kind by sucking your on your clit so hard it makes you cry out, but the throb of pain it leaves behind on serves to push you even closer to the edge, begging for your release.  

“Please, please, please,” you babble, and your prayers are answered when Yoongi fills you with his fingers whilst simultaneously torturing you with his tongue.  With artful precision, his fingers crook and curl inside you to stimulate your g-spot, and though he’s gentle to start with, Yoongi is an expert at interpreting the sounds you make to know exactly how rough or fast you want it - not stopping till arousal is gushing from you with every stroke.  

“Mm, Yoongi, I’m gonna- oh, oh shit!”  Yoongi doesn’t stop as your orgasm takes a hold of you,  working you through it and savouring every drop of ecstasy he manages to coax out.   It’s only when your body begins to twitch from overstimulation that he finally begins to slow his ministrations, eventually emerging from between your legs when you weakly call his name, tapping on his shoulder.  

“Can I turn on the light?” he asks whilst you’re still basking in your post-orgasmic haze, too blissed out to do anything but nod your consent and watch as he reaches over you to turn on the lamp that rests on the bedside table over on your side of the bed.  “Wanna see you.”   

You have to throw your arm across your eyes when he first switches the light on.  When you eventually start to pull it back, Yoongi is still leaning over you, an adoring look in his eyes as he gazes down. 

“Would you look at that,” he says wistfully, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning down to kiss you.  You can taste yourself on his tongue as it rolls into your mouth but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he stops kissing you just to softly whisper ‘you’re gorgeous’ right against your lips.  

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t gotten yours yet,” you tease, trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest.  Yoongi chuckles, his laughter interrupted by a groan when you cup his balls through his boxer shorts and press your palm against his length.  

“Am not,” he insists, even as his hips rock forward into your hard and he nips at your bottom lip, groaning again as you squeeze.  

“Still, I think it’s about time for your turn, don't you?”  Whispered into his ear, your purr causes a shiver to run through Yoongi’s body before he abruptly pulls away and sits back on his heels.   Seeming to take a moment to collect himself, he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but take advantage of this opportunity to take a good long look at your lover - to admire his slight waist and unblemished skin.  His face is flushed with desire and his eyes dark as they similarly trace your form, and you feel the very same blush fill your cheeks when your gaze is inevitably drawn to the ill-concealed erection within his boxers.  

Even hidden away beneath black material, its outline is unmistakable - as is the wet patch of material at its tip.  Yoongi catches you looking and you bite your lip at the smirk that curls his as he reaches inside his boxers and pulls his cock free, tugging them down just enough for you to make out the dark curls of pubic hair at its base.  

“There are condoms in the drawer,” he tells you with a pointed look at the bedside table, but frankly you’re too entranced with the sight of his vascular hand as it strokes the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen up and down to want to look away.  

You extend your arms towards him with a coy smile, opening them up in welcome, and Yoongi cocks a curious eyebrow as he shuffles out of his boxers before settling down on top of you, his cock laying heavy on your stomach.  

“I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.”  You hear Yoongi’s breath hitch with excitement as you place lingering kisses against his jaw, his cheek, his lips.  

“You sure?” he checks, and you can’t help but giggle because even as he’s double-checking Yoongi is already lifting his hips and reaching down to take his cock in hand, guiding it towards your cunt.  “We don’t need any more little accidents around here.”  Your insides flutter in anticipation as you feel him run the tip of it between your folds till it’s slick with your arousal, one nod away from slipping inside with blissful ease.  

“I’m sure,” you grin before kissing him again, and this time they don’t stop.  Yoongi swallows up the moan you make as he slides his cock inside you in one smooth motion, right to the hilt.  He smothers the gasp that comes thereafter when he pulls back and does it again, this time harder than the last.  With his tongue between your teeth, the two of you soon find a rhythm that has you both perspiring with effort - the sounds of your heavy breathing mingling with the slap of flesh on flesh and the slick sounds of your cunt.  

“Oh god, Yoongi!” you cry out when he alters the angle of his hips, pressing in harder, faster than before.  

“I know baby.”  He finds your hand where it lays upon the pillow and threads his fingers between yours, clasping it tight as he groans, forehead pressed to yours, and grits out, “I know, I know.”  

You pick your feet up off the bed and wrap them tightly around his waist, urging him deeper, and Yoongi doesn’t disappoint.  With renewed vigour, his hips surge forward, so deep that from this angle the tip of his cock not only kisses your cervix but grazes your g-spot on the way out as well, and even without any clitoral stimulation you can feel yourself getting close all over again.  

“Say my name,” Yoongi urges between kisses, squeezing your hand in his, “Let me hear you say it.”   You do as he asks - one time, two times, three times - and every time you do you swear your orgasm looms just that little bit closer.  

“Again, baby,” he chokes out, and you can tell he’s getting close too from the tension in his voice and how his cock has begun to twitch, his thrusts frantic now.  “Say it again for me.”   Yoongi throws his head back, lifting his chest from yours to drive his cock into you even deeper.  “Fuck, I love the way you say it.”  

There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes as his name tumbles from your lips, so close that it near steals the breath from your lungs.  Every one of your senses is filled with him - with the excruciating bliss that’s sizzling through your veins - and you can’t get enough.  Gripping tighter, pulling closer.  Kissing, touching, feeling.   It’s so much.  So much, and yet somehow you want more. 

“Please,” you choke out against the press of his lips, and you don’t even know what you’re begging for with both your hands held in his, gripping them tight atop the pillow.  You never want this to stop - never want it to end - and yet you’re both rapidly reaching the climax, tumbling into oblivion together.  

You try to hold back, you really do, but when Yoongi groans your name, pressing in deep, you’ve not a shred of willpower left.  You want to give in. 

“I’m close,” he tells you, the words gritted out through his teeth, “Feel so good around me, baby.” He nips at your jawline - nuzzles so sweetly into the crook of your neck and smatters it with kisses.  “Gonna cum with me?  So pretty when you cum.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, and you’re so close, so very, very close. “Cum in me, Yoongi, please - please .”  

With the sounds of your pleading, Yoongi, too, loses all semblance of self-control.  Driving his hips forward into you, he groans at the gradual tightening of your insides, and as his cock hardens even further, twitching in anticipation, you finally reach your end.  It’s so intense you aren’t even able to speak through your climax - unable to vocalise how incredible it feels except for the raggedly drawn breaths you take once it finally begins to fade.  

You’re disappointed to realise that Yoongi has already cum by the time you’ve returned to your senses, though from how hard he’s breathing you figure he must not have been too far behind.  His face is flushed with heat, chest perspiring, and you can feel the warmth he’s filled you with trickling out from where his pelvis sits flush with yours.   

He’s still holding your hands, you realise, and when Yoongi leans down to sweetly kiss you as he squeezes them in his own, you feel yourself blush even more fiercely than before, filled with girlish glee.  Ridiculous, really, given all that you’ve just done.  

“That was amazing,” you whisper against his lips, and his smile is just as coy as yours as he pulls away to look down into your eyes.  He doesn’t say anything but his tender expression tells you all you need to know, as does the way he can’t help but kiss you over and over again before he finally withdraws.  

“One second,” he tells you as he swings his legs out of bed and you roll onto your side to watch him go, laughing as he’s forced to shoo Holly out of the way from where’s sat waiting for attention, chin resting on the edge of the mattress. 

“I hope he hasn’t been sitting there the whole time!”  You watch fondly as Yoongi shimmies his boxers back on with a hop and a wiggle.  Gosh, he really does have the cutest little butt… “We’ll have scarred him for life.” 

“His own fault,” Yoongi dismisses, unconcerned. “I’ll just go grab some tissue.”  He leaves the room for a moment or two, and in that time you have to try very hard to resist the urge to shimmy a little dance atop his mattress - the threat of accidentally making a mess on his newly changed bedsheets looming in your mind.  At the foot of the bed, you can hear the puppies snuffling around, probably looking for their next feed, and you have to stop yourself from crawling to the other end of the bed to go look at them, too.  

As it happens, Yoongi checks on them when he gets back in your stead.  He passes you the tissues and then pre-occupies himself with Remi and the puppies whilst you clean yourself up, waiting until you climb back under the covers to finally rejoin you.  He sighs in contentment as he gets comfortable, gazing up at the ceiling with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and all you can do is stare at him in wonderment as you lay on your side, hardly daring to believe that the last half an hour or so was even real.  

“I really like you,” you whisper after a minute or two has passed, still unable to wipe the goofy love-sick grin you’re wearing off of your face.  Yoongi turns his head to the side to look at you, a cocky gleam in his eyes as he takes in your expression.  

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow lifting.  Effortlessly cool, he extends his left arm out across the pillow to invite you to curl against his side.  You do so immediately, kissing the spot on which you then lay your head, snuggling close.  You feel his lips press against the top of your head in turn, and through his chest you hear his heart begin to gallop as he squeezes you tightly in his arms, curling them around you.  “I think I really kind of like you too.”  

****

You never intended to keep them all.  

One, maybe.  You and Yoongi had talked about it; how it’d be a shame to sell them all and not get to see how the pups would eventually turn out.  But the more time that went on - the longer the two of you spent with them and got to know and love all their little personalities - the more you couldn’t bear the idea of parting with even a single one.  

And maybe you would’ve come around to the idea of them leaving if Yoongi hadn’t been just as smitten with them as you were.  You were bad influences on each other, sending each other picture updates whenever either of you were out of the apartment ( your apartment, with both your names on the lease now, not just Yoongi’s).  As if you could’ve really brought yourself to use any of those adorable photos to place an ad that would eventually take them away from you.  You should’ve known from the moment they first opened up those beady little eyes and gazed into yours that you were done for.  

Though five dogs is undeniably a handful, you can’t bring yourself to regret the decision.   Not even now, as you hold a double lead in one hand and Yoongi holds a triple in the other, somehow still managing to keep yours conjoined as your pack pulls you along.  God help you should the whole lot of them ever spot a squirrel and decide to run, or make a mad dash for a half-eaten pack of crisps strewn across the ground.  

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yoongi warns, keeping a good grip on the puppies as they surge towards the greying spaniel that comes trotting along off-lead, his elderly owner just a little way down the path.  “Nicely, nicely.”  

You hope one day your dogs might be well enough behaved - or at least old and lazy enough - to walk so nicely off lead.  The spaniel is adorably patient despite being mobbed by three white, fluffy clouds; their noses searching out every available orifice to sniff.  You’re grateful that at least Remi and Holly have the manners to stay out of it, easily distracted by the sound of the treat packet you’re rustling inside your coat pocket.  

“Oh, what a lovely little family you’ve got there!” the elderly woman coos as she comes closer, and you thank the lord Yoongi has the good sense to hold the puppies back.  Even though they’re almost a year old they haven’t quite yet learned their strength, and you’ve no doubt they’d end up knocking her over if their overenthusiasm isn’t adequately reigned in.  “You’re so blessed!”  

Beside you Yoongi nods, his chin lifting in pride as the dogs wait to be petted one by one, tails wagging furiously along the ground.  He’s too busy watching them to notice the instinctive way your hand reaches for your stomach at the kind old lady’s words, fingers splaying wide over your lower abdomen where a little life inside you grows.  

You haven’t told him yet, but oh, you can’t help but start to grin as you imagine how shocked he’s going to be - how happy and excited.  If you closed your eyes now, you’re sure you’d be able to imagine the exact smile he’ll wear, all teeth and gums and sparkling eyes.  

Yoongi squeezes your hand in his, bringing you back to the present, and you give your tummy one last gentle rub as you return the woman’s smile, heart so full it feels fit to burst.  

“Yeah," you smile, catching Yoongi's gaze and beaming all the more, "We really are.”   

****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  **** **** 

Your feedback is always appreciated, dear readers!  Please let me know what you think ^^ 

Also, I’m sure we all already know what Holly looks like, but just in case you were wondering about Remi’s breed, she is a Japanese Spitz who would like an awful lot like this -

And their puppies would end up look a little something like this -

Freakin’ adorable, right?  

Also, those of you who’ve followed my blog for a while might’ve now realised that I modelled Remi after my own little Japanese Spitz, Shiro.  Is that awfuly self indulgent of me?  Oh yes.  Do I care?  Not even a little bit *grin* 

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)

Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.

If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"

If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.

After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.

He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.

Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿

(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)

When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."

You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.

Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.

After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.

After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.

You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.

After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."

The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.

...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.

The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.

Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.

Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 

Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.

He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.

I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.

Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.08

11/07/2020

The Warriors Three

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,298

Warnings: talks of pregnancy, sex, smut, very slight angst, jealousy

A/N: Enjoy! Not much to say about this one except that I’m setting things up! Get read for the roller coaster y’all! As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me sprad my work! xoxo

Tuesday morning you open your eyes and catch Thor watching you sleep.

You stare right back at him, eyes searching his pleasant smile. What is he thinking that’s making him give you such a sappy look? Not that you mind it. You’re a little seduced by it. Emotionally seduced.

Fucker’s got you wrapped around his little finger.

His smile grows wider, almost as if he can read your mind.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You wonder, a whisper so quiet you’re not sure he can hear it.

“Yes.” Thor admits, supporting his head with his hand, elbow buried in his pillow.

“Was I snoring?”

“Yep.” Thor chuckles. “You most certainly were.”

Groaning, you reach down to yank the blanket up over you. It gives you a peek at his glorious naked body lying beside you as it drifts up and falls slowly back over you.

Your mind is attacked with images, memories of last night’s needy bout of lovemaking. Thor had been hungry for it. For you. For his promise to fill you up and get you knocked up with his babies.

The very idea of you pregnant with his heir had him so excited he’d accidentally bitten a little too hard a time or two, then apologized by kissing the assaulted spots until you were trembling and quaking beneath him.

He’d kissed every inch of your body and taken you up and down the room, devouring you in every way he could.

The bed had been the most visited spot, but his desk is still a mess. One of the long flowing curtains that lines the wall of windows is torn and abandoned on the floor.

He pushes you against the wall, as flowing yet slightly scratchy fabric slides across your naked back, you realize he’s got you pinned to the wall of windows.

It’s taking your mind and body a second to catch up to what the other is doing or feeling. It’s been a night of ecstasy. Of orgasms and sweet kisses and the hope that this will last forever. That this isn’t just sex. That maybe it started out as just that but now that your futures are so set in stone, that Thor is committing to this just as much as you are.

He’s invested. He has to be.

Your mind suddenly realizes that even if this floor is high up, the palace tall and looming, someone might be looking up. Someone might be hoping for a chance to get a look at Thor, King of New Asgard, God of Thunder. Instead, they’ll get a full moon. Your ass plastered against the glass.

You twist in his grip, turning to look out and see the distant ocean, black and endless. Thor kisses your neck, his hands reaching down between your legs to pull another whimper.

You’re slick and slippery in his hands. Your knees go weak, and you fall forward. You brace yourself on the window and your eyes are brought to the flickering lights of a house close to the palace walls.

Palace staff probably. Maybe even Estrid’s home? She’ll have a nice view of your tits at this angle.

“Mmmf, Thor…” You gasp, pushing back against him, suddenly embarrassed.

He eases up, giving you space. It’s enough that you slip out from between him and the window. You turn and scamper towards the bed. You jump on it, pulling the sheets up around your body to cover yourself in a delayed attempt at modesty.

As you look at your future husband, you can’t help but laugh. It’s a burst of sound, a hiccup of amusement as you watch him struggle against the curtain. It’s tangled around his left arm and hips. Wrapped around one leg as he steps on the end with the other.

He’s gotten himself all covered in it when he’d suddenly thrown himself around to follow your escape.

“Looks like I’ve caught you, God of Thunder.” You tease, and chuckle again.

Thor’s brow furrows, a deep guttural growl ripping through his throat as he simply walks forward. A simple flick of his wrist across his body where the curtain is wrapped tears it and he’s tackling you onto his mattress before you can understand what’s happened.

You give one small yelp before his lips are pressed to yours and with his kiss, he takes all your shyness.

“Hey,” He begins, gripping the edge of the sheet and he pulls it down until he can see your eyes. “Don’t hide from me so early in the morning.”

He pouts, folding the sheet up just above your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and then leaning down to kiss your clavicle.

You shut your eyes, relishing in the feeling.

“I love the way you kiss me.” You tell him, suddenly feeling bold.

Probably because it’s early and your body is still reeling from last night.

“Is that so?” Thor asks, laying down properly with his arms still around you.

His eye is trained on yours, searching them for proof that you’re lying.

“Yes.” You nod, reaching over to caress his bearded cheek, turning onto your side to look at him better. “I love your kisses and your touch. I love your voice and the way you laugh.”

Thor’s cheeks are suddenly bright red, barely hidden by his golden scruffy beard. He hasn’t trimmed it in a few days. It’s getting thicker.

“That’s a lot of things to love, cherub. One might think you’re falling for me.” It’s a tease, but hopeful.

The way his voice leaves it open for you to respond to despite being a statement makes your heart pound. You scoot closer, moving until your nose tip is touching his.

You shut your eyes because admitting this face to face is hard. If only because you don’t want to remember saying it and then regretting it later if he should ever hurt you. Because with this arrangement the two of you have made, this marriage? How can you not get hurt at some point?

“I am falling for you, Thor. I’ve already fallen for you.” You whisper that last bit, afraid to speak it too loud. What if someone else hears you say it?

He doesn’t say anything and for several really long seconds, you just wait.

Unable to take it anymore, you open your eyes and find him staring at you still, his brow scrunched, a little pucker between his eyes.

The look is intense, but mostly vulnerable. He looks almost insecure, which is stupid because he’s Thor! How can he look the way you feel?

“What? What did I say?”

Thor gives his head one shake, then he rolls you over, laying over you as his hands push the hair at your temples back, loving your face the way he’s been doing all night.

“How is it that I’ve always needed you and never knew it? How is it that I’ve been searching for you my whole life, and only now just realize it’s you I was searching for?” Thor sighs, shaking his head in disbelief.

You take a deep shaky breath, inhaling until your lungs give up. When you exhale, your voice is surprisingly relaxed, a playful tone in comparison to the intensity of these confessions.

“You’re such a sap.” Voice at a decent volume with a bit of exasperation thrown in.

Thor buries his face against your chest and his body begins to shake with laughter.

You laugh with him, bringing your hands to the back of his head to stroke his messy short hair. You absolutely love the way it sticks at odd angles when he wakes up in the morning.

“You’re making it awfully easy for me to love you, cherub.”

There’s that word again. And it steals your breath just as much as the first time he’d said it, though before, it hadn’t been so straight forward.

“You’ve known me for less than a week, Thor.” You’re absolutely stunned.

You’ve heard of whirlwind romances, but never in true life. None that ended well.

“I know.” Thor sighs, laying on you more snugly. “And I know that it makes no sense, but when you told my friends at dinner that it was inevitable for you to fall for me, I had no idea that the possibility of being with you and knowing that you could love me would make me so happy.

“So, I made up my mind to try. Just as I told you. And then those kisses in your room…”

He drifts off, thinking back to those first liplocks when the two of you had been surprised by the chemistry that had suddenly shot off between you.

“I know.” You nod, bringing your hands down to rest along the sides of his neck. “I felt it too.”

Given that it was your first few kisses ever, even you’d felt something click beyond the initial pleasure they gave you.

“And you’ve been so open, so understanding. Jealous a bit—which I like, to be honest. Probably shouldn’t.” Thor admits, and you think you know what he means.

It’s nice to feel like you’re wanted, so long as it doesn’t smother and hurt.

You smile, despite the anxiety of the moment.

“You’re much more than I ever hoped you’d be, cherub. Much more.” He sighs, placing his index finger on your temple and running it down to your chin. “I’m starting to love you. And I’m certain that with time, that will only grow.”

“Thor…” You’re apprehensive about taking him at his word, fearful that you’ll wake up and it’ll have all been a dream.

“Why don’t you believe me?” He asks, exasperated as he grabs you and rolls over onto his back.

You land on top of him, your legs automatically straddling his hips, hands pushing against his chest to sit up.

“You just broke up with Jane, Thor. A woman who you’d wanted me to pretend you weren’t going to be having an affair with if we got married.” You remind him, and he screws up his face.

A knowing grimace as your anxious timidity makes an appearance again.

“I-I know that I made a mistake.” He nods, hands finding your hips to give them a firm squeeze. “I never should have asked you to do something so deceitful. It was heartless of me. I’m sorry.”

He means it, and his sincerity brings your body down further, hands placed on his bearded cheeks again.

“I don’t make excuses for myself. The only thing I can say is that I wanted Jane and I to work. I have loved her for a long time. For humans.” He clarifies, “And if there was a chance to make us work, I wanted to be certain that I tried. I didn’t want it to end without me having given it a good try.

“But Jane and I have been over for almost half a year. Her true love will always be her work. As admirable as that is, I’ve known that I would need a wife who could give not only myself, but the people of Asgard her full heart.

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t know that your work as a writer is important. I will give you time and space to do what you love. Because I want you to be happy here, cherub. I want you to love living here with me and our people. I want you to love being here. I want you to love me.”

His voice suddenly cuts off, slightly surprised at the honesty of that last sentence.

You’re not. In fact, you know exactly how he feels. You hadn’t expected him to feel it or be the one to say it out loud. You’re so glad he did though, and you lay over him, holding his face still as you press your lips to his softly.

He shuts his eye, kissing you back as his hands find your waist to take firm, possessive handfuls.

When you pull back, he follows you up a little, stretching his neck until you’re sitting too far up to reach, and he falls back onto his pillow.

“I already do, Thor.” You shrug one shoulder, giving into what’s been growing since the moment you met him, and he made you picture both of you together. “I think I’ve loved you since you downed an entire stein of ale and then went for a refill.”

Thor’s smile is small at first but grows as you wait for him to respond.

“I won’t waste it.” He gushes, sitting up and taking you with him, wrapping one arm around your waist, the other holding the back of your neck. “I won’t waste your love.”

He’s so determined, how can you not believe him?

“Promise?” You whisper, licking your lips.

“I swear it.” He replies, pulling you towards him to kiss you softly.

Wet lips lap over yours, massaging softly before you slide your tongue into his mouth, and he groans against you.

You slide one hand down between your bodies, searching until you take hold of his cock and lead him in.

He goes rigid beneath you, body tight as his hands squeeze you hard as you sink down onto him.

He grunts, reaching down to grab a handful of your bottom as you lift yourself up and drop down again slowly.

“You said you wanted a baby.” You remind him, voice nothing but air as he stretches you and hits a delicious spot inside you that makes your hips twitch. “Let’s make a baby.”

That guttural growl from last night rips through Thor’s throat again, and he flips you, tossing you onto your back never once slipping out of you as he rails you into the mattress.

~~~~~~~~~~

It shows up in ways you don’t expect it to.

Quick peeks from across the garden. Sweet smiles over people’s shoulders. A quiet kiss shared before you both leave an empty room.

You and Thor have decided to try and be lukewarm in public. Respectful. Decent.

In private, this morning’s session of lovemaking is a good example of what you two would rather be doing together.

However, since duty calls, you and Thor are currently making your way onto a large stretch of land at the center of New Asgard.

With your arm around his elbow, he waits patiently for you to carefully gather your skirts a little so that you can walk without stomping on the bottom.

It’s a beautiful gown, black with an illusion bodice absolutely covered in beautiful pink, red, white, and orange florals. The same pattern is prevalent throughout the tulle skirt, a thicker cotton skirt underneath keeps you warm. Over the spaghetti strap bodice, you wear a black cloak. It feels more like a cape.

An intentional choice by Thor, it turns out, because you match. Thor in his black Asgardian suit, the same one he wore on the night of your dinner with his closest friends.

The two of you make a lovely pair and the crowd that has gathered around the plot of land you’re on seem to notice and approve.

Some of them wave at you, others simply stare and share excited conversation.

“They’re staring at us.” You smile nervously, waving at a pair of beautiful Asgardian boys no older than ten who wave at you with such enthusiasm, you can’t help yourself.

“They’re staring at you, cherub. You’re the pretty jewel on my arm.” He flatters, and you laugh at him.

“You really don’t like being complimented.” He observes, his eye only for you.

“It’s not that.” You shake your head, meeting his gaze. “I’ve just never been told such…no one’s ever talked to me like that before. It’s super weird.”

“Weird? Then I will have to do it with more frequency.” Thor whispers, leaning in towards you. “And you can’t fight me on it.”

You bite your bottom lip, giving him a quick and private glare.

He chuckles, amused by your reaction.

“Are you warm enough?” He checks, reaching to adjust your cloak.

“Enough.” You nod. “I’d rather be in bed with you, though.”

Thor clears his throat, his hand brushing gently along your bottom.

A mere coincidence that he was adjusting the cloak there when you said that.

“You’re much warmer than this cloak.”

Thor sighs heavily, taking his hand back to scratch at his head.

“Are you trying to torture me?” He wonders, avoiding your gaze and waving at his people.

“No.” You protest. “But you are. It’s a simple fact.”

“You’ve grown increasingly bold in these past few days.” Thor whispers, leaning in towards you to speak quietly.

“Whose fault is that?” You wonder, feeling shy in front of the Asgardians, not so much Thor in this aspect after the way you spent the early morning. “I think I’ve had more sex in two days than most women have in two years.”

After a moment to consider, you smile and meet his eye.

“Can we keep trying for a baby after this? I read somewhere that if you do it on your side, it helps with a girl. Or if we want a boy, you can take me from behind again.”

Thor’s face is crimson as he coughs loudly, choking on his own spit probably since he’d opened his mouth to respond but your question seems to have rendered him speechless.

“Is that a yes?”

Thor takes a minute to catch his breath, clearing his throat before reaching up to pull at the neck of his shirt and armor.

“Vixen.��� He accuses. “When I get you back to our room, I’m not letting you out until the morning of our wedding.”

This time, it’s your turn to be speechless. You stare at him, eyes searching, heart pounding, completely emotional. You’re the true sap.

“I’m…Our room?” Had you heard him correctly? “I don’t have to go back to my bedroom?”

“My bedroom is your bedroom. I’m not letting you out of it ever again.” Thor assures you. “I need you there to sleep now, cherub.”

You wrap your arm around his elbow more tightly, tucking yourself in against his side.

“Can I have a kiss?” You ask him, unsure if it’s polite or normal for the two of you to be so affectionate before you’re married or if it’s frowned upon by the Asgardian people.

“Of course, you can, love. You never have to ask.” He leans down as you push yourself up onto your toes, lips puckered and eager.

His kiss is gentle, just as pleasing as ever, but chaste, and innocent.

It’s perfect for what you’re feeling, and you have to pull back first but go in for a second, quicker kiss.

“Well, it looks like you were worried for no reason.” You turn to watch David walking up to you both.

“David!” You gasp, excited at the sight of him. “I thought you’d left back to London.”

You release Thor and hug David, who happily returns the gesture. He pushes you back to get a look at you in your pretty dress, and nods with approval.

“I did but came right back after my meeting. I wanted to make sure the God of Thunder was keeping his word. It appears he’s exceeded it.” David says the tone of approval to accompany the pleased smile on his face. “Might I borrow the future Queen of Asgard, Your Majesty?”

David gestures at your hand around Thor’s arm.

Thor takes your hand and holds it, offering it to David with that lovable goofy smile you’ve become quickly familiar with.

“Of course.”

David takes your hand and gently wraps it around his own suited up elbow. “Thank you.”

Together, you and David walk a few feet away, Thor turning towards the nearest group of Asgardians to greet and mingle.

“It seems things have progressed quickly between you and Thor.” David observes, his voice polite but you can hear the worry.

“We’re already trying for a baby, David.” You confess, stopping and tugging on his arm so that he’ll turn to look at you.

David’s face is full of shock. He blinks, trying to clear his mind or put the words you just said together in different ways until he understands them.

“You’ve slept with him already?” David asks quietly, always the model of good sense.

“It just happened.” You sigh, catching your breath after your impromptu confession. “He kissed me the night of the dinner and then he broke up with Jane and when I went to see him in his room, to show him my wedding dress for approval, he was so open with me about everything and we kissed again. One thing led to another and we just…it felt right, David. I didn’t want it to happen because it had to. Because he had to consummate the marriage?

“I needed to feel control over something.”

David moves a step closer, taking your hand in his two, tapping them to offer comfort.

“We really click, David. Like, in bed? And personally too. We’ve been so…it’s easy with him. To a certain point. I’m not a complete idiot. But I-I’m already loving him. And I think he feels the same. M-Maybe not love, even though he says he does, but he likes me at least. I’m sure.

“He said he wanted to start on our heir. Since we’ll have to do it quickly anyway.” You shrug.

To your surprise, David actually nods. “I think having his child is for the best too.”

You’re about to ask him why, but he explains without you needing to.

“The Ambassadors are eager for your marriage to commence. And I think it’s a good idea to solidify your place in their court with a child.”

Fear and a bit of anger begins to grow in your belly. It fills your chest with worries and the tightness of your anxieties makes it hard to breathe.

“You’re afraid he’ll change his mind?” You realize, so angry at David you almost want to rip your hand out of his grip and march back to Thor’s side…but this is your fear too. Your worry.

“No.” David rushes to reassure you, but the seed—while it had already been planted—has been watered by his warning. “No, I don’t think he will. The way he looked at you just now didn’t look like the expression of a man who is having doubts. In fact, he looks downright smitten.”

This helps you relax a little, or at least cools the rage you feel towards David.

“It’s all just happening so quickly.” David frets.

“It has to happen quickly.” You reason, annoyed but also understanding of his worry.

You’re worried too. After every sweet word, touch, and especially after every moment you spend wrapped in Thor’s arms, coming to pieces beneath him. Feeling him more deeply than you’ve ever felt anyone before. Literally.

You wonder to yourself, if maybe this is all too good to be true.

“You’re not pretending?” David asks, quiet since Loki, Sif, and three men you’ve never seen before make their way towards Thor at the center of the lawn.

“No, David. I’m really not. I like him, so much. I didn’t expect it, but I do. And he seems to like me too.”

“I’ll have to keep an eye on him, to make certain he really returns your feelings.” David smiles. “Would you like me to send for a fertility doctor? Someone who can keep an eye on you to assure that you and Thor are doing everything you can to produce an heir?”

“Yes!” You hug him tight, so pleased that he seems to be on your team.

He laughs in your ear as you hold him, hugging you back gently.

“You’ll wrinkle your pretty gown.” David worries.

“Cherub?” Thor’s voice calls to you and you turn towards him, his hand extended towards you from where he stands with his friends.

All of them in unison, save for Sif who instead looks down at the ground, mouth his pet name for you.

David too.

“Cherub?” He asks, amused.

But you don’t hear him. You move for Thor, taking his hand, then he pulls you against his side, wrapping his arm around your waist.

David moves to stand beside you, but clears his throat to draw everyone’s attention.

“I think I will retire to the palace. If that is alright with you Your Majesty?”

Thor looks to David and offers a quick smile. “Of course. We can offer proper introductions at dinner.”

With a nod, David takes his leave.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Volstagg, one of my oldest friends and a mighty adventurer in his own right. He also enjoys a good drink and plenty of well-seasoned food.” Thor whispers the second part in your ear, drawing your attention back to the newcomers.

“What’s that you’re saying about me to my future Queen?!” Volstagg demands, but he doesn’t wait for an answer as he reaches to take your hand.

He bows his head, pulls it to his lips, and kisses it chastely.

“Your Highness, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He gushes.

“Nice to meet you.”

“This here is Fandral, another close friend. He-”

“Has conquered many hearts, and had I been here when you came to meet Thor, I may have very well conquered yours, Your Highness.” He smiles at you flirtatiously, his blonde hair falling loosely over his forehead.

He is very handsome, charming. A definite flirt.

He reaches for your hand but before he can take hold of it, Thor grabs it and pulls it against his own chest.

“He’s a flirt.” Thor’s frowning at him, and you can’t help but feel your stomach flip and your heart flutter at his refusal to let Fandral touch you.

“And I am Hogun of Vanaheim. It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I am at your service.” The third of the Warrior’s three is calmer, though you sense a general amusement floating off of him at his companions and their quirks.

“Thank you.” You smile at him, “All of you, for such a warm welcome.”

“We’re very sad to have missed your welcome feast.” Volstagg laments, rubbing his protruding belly.

He’s in his armor which makes his large stature menacing and comforting that his girth will be on your side of any fight.

“You’re just hungry.” Hogun tells him.

“Isn’t he always?” Fandral teases.

“As charming as this impromptu meet-up is, you three have new armor to be measured for, and if you hurry you might just catch the end of the lunch hour back at the palace.” Loki informs them, and like they’ve all been electrocuted, the Warrior’s Three give you a quick bow and shuffle off bickering about some disagreement from before they arrived.

“Brunnhilde, I think maybe you should go with them. Apprise them of the need for their quick return. The sooner they start planning, the better for us all.” Loki looks to Sif, frowning at the way she’s staring at Thor holding your hand to his chest still, cradling it there as if it were something precious. “Sif? I think you should go with her. Rest up. Tomorrow’s wedding will be a long day for us all.”

Sif gives you and Thor a passing look, Loki a quick glare before she turns and marches off after the Warrior’s Three.

Hilde looks after Sif then smiles at Loki before turning her charms towards you.

“Forgive Sif, Your Highness, she’s not used to defeat.” Hilde explains.

“I’ve never met warrior women before. I wish she’d let me get to know her.” You lament, Thor’s arm tightening around your waist.

“She’ll come around, Cherub. She just needs some time.” He assures you.

“Or a boyfriend.” Hilde jokes. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to bring her around.”

“Thank you, Hilde.” You truly appreciate her and her kindness.

“I’m glad this is going well.” She points at you two, sincerely pleased, looking almost smug.

Thor’s eyes narrow, and he hugs you closer.

“So am I.” He throws at her.

She laughs once, then turns and heads after the others without another word.

“Alright, so why have you brought us out here?” Thor asks Loki, who quickly pulls a small black folder from what looks like to you, thin air.

“This plot of land has been designated as a public park. As our Queen, the council has decided that this would be the perfect first task for you.”

“For me?!”

“Yes. We’ll give you plenty of experts to do the actual work. Your job will be to oversee the park’s construction. They will give you options, you pick what you’d like, and at the end of a few months, you will unveil the park to the public.” Loki explains.

“Doesn’t it seem like too much to take on?” Thor worries, “For a first project?”

You remain silent, too stressed suddenly with the pressure to get this place just right mounting.

“You’ll help her, Your Majesty.” Loki teases, “It will be a joint project. A gift form the King and Queen to their people in honor of their wedding. We don’t have any parks yet, and with the population growing again, this one will be an excellent place for families to come and pass the time, for whatever reason families seem to want to do that.”

“So, I’ll have help.” With Thor by your side and many experts, it doesn’t feel so daunting. Still stressful, but not as scary.

“Yes.” Loki nods, handing you the folder so that you can look at the plans and options he’s already set aside for you. “After tomorrow, you’ll have a week to honeymoon, and once you’re back, you’ll begin your duties. Together. As a unified front for all the world to see.”

Suddenly, you realize what this is actually supposed to be.

“So, this is really just a PR stunt for everyone to see that Thor and I are getting along in our new marriage? Because no one can believe in the arranged marriage thing?” You sigh, feeling slightly deflated by the rude way reality seems to be encroaching on your blissful new love bubble.

“We knew this would be a concern, cherub.” Thor rubs your lower back, trying to soothe you a little. “We’ll easily give them what they want. Since I already love you, we won’t have to pretend. They’ll see us as we are.”

You’re knocked breathless again, trying hard to catch it as Thor’s stupid love declaration in front of Loki absolutely sends your body and mind buzzing.

Loki is also shocked by this. His eyes are wide, slow blinking as he stares at Thor’s feet, replaying what Thor just said.

Loki wasn’t expecting Thor to say that and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Cherub?” Thor gives your body a little shake.

“I’m okay.” You assure him, swallowing hard, almost ready to lose your mind until you look up and meet his eye.

His concern and caring is there, true and real, and it calms you. It settles your worrying heart and with a slow sigh, you nod.

“Really, I’m okay.”

Thor frowns, almost not believing you despite the fact that you can see that he means his words.

You’re not sure if he does it for himself or if he’s doing it to prove his point, but he holds you tighter, pulling your body towards his and holding your head in place as he leans down to give you a not so chaste kiss.

You can’t help yourself when his tongue begs for entrance. You open up for him and readily meet him in his passion.

“Okay…” Loki mutters, neither you nor Thor hearing him. “…I’ll just…go.”

[alltimesos]

Three Thousand- Ashton Irwin

Another fic I found in my drafts ♡ This week is spring break for me so I am hoping to sit down work on a few requests! 🍑

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cursing, brief mentions of unprotected sex, tooth-rotting fluff

“Ashton! Will you come in here for a minute?” you called from the doorway of one of your son’s bedrooms. A few moments later your husband appeared into the room and walked over to you with confusion all over his face.

“What’s going on babes?” he questions, kissing your forehead.

“Will you please tell your firstborn son that fifth grade isn’t scary and he’ll make plenty of friends?” Ashton grins, kneeling in front of the bed to talk to Ethan. You sigh as you walk out of the bedroom, leaning against the wall.

You and Ashton have five kids together. Your eldest son, Ethan is 10, your second-born son, Jaxon is 7, your third-born son, Oliver is 6 and your twin daughters Amelia and Charlotte, are 4. “Mummy! Jaxon stole my toy!” You hear Oliver shout from the room over. You rub your temples before stepping into the boy’s room, to take care of the situation.

+++

The following morning was chaos, to say the least. It was the first day of school and nothing was going right. Your alarm never sounded, meaning you woke up twenty minutes late. You scramble to get out of bed to get dressed and at least attempt to fix your hair.

You jog down the stairs to smell bacon cooking. You furrow your eyebrows as you take the last step, appearing into the kitchen. A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you see Ashton standing at the stove, cooking bacon and waffles, not wearing a shirt but your pink apron wrapped around him. You giggle, walking towards Ashton to steal your daily morning kiss. “I didn’t even notice you were missing from the bed,” you tell him against his lips.

“Well, thanks a lot babe,” he replies sarcastically. You giggle once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. He presses his lips against yours slightly pressing you up against the counter.

“Ew!” you hear your small children yell. You push Ashton off of you, turning towards the twins standing in the doorway. “Good morning babies!” you pick both of them up, placing them on each hip. Both of them inherited Ashton’s sandy curls and hazel eyes, which you admired deeply.

“Are you guys excited for your first day of school?!” you ask carrying them upstairs. Charlotte, the older twin, only by a few minutes, nods against your shoulder. “X’cited mummy, I have butterflies in my tummy.” Once you reach the bedroom you place the girls down on their beds. “What about you Miss Amelia?” She was the shyer one of the two, a girl of a few words.

“Nervous, mummy.”

You open the closet door to pick out their outfits for the day. “No need to be nervous, darlings. School is lots of fun and you will make new friends!”

You help both of your daughters get dressed before styling their curly hair. You kiss their cheeks before patting their bum lightly. “Go downstairs, daddy made you breakfast.”

You walk down the hall, knocking on Ethan’s door. A few moments later he opens the door and steps out. “Did you make your bed?” “

Yes, mum,” he groans. You pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “No matter how old you get you will always be my baby. Fifth grade will be awesome!” Much to your surprise, Ethan squeezes you tightly. “I love you, mum.” He lets go of you, grabbing his backpack and going downstairs.

“Hey there rockstar!” you hear Ashton yell at your son. Since Jaxon and Oliver were close in age you allowed them to share a room. The door was wide open already so you walked in, ignoring all of the toys scattered around the room. “Mummy!” Oliver yells running over to you. “Hi, sweetie! Are you almost ready?” Oliver nods, grabbing his backpack. “Daddy made you breakfast!” you barely finished your sentence because Oliver was already running downstairs.

“Is my soon-to-be second grader ready?” Jaxon doesn’t say anything, just pushes past you and walks down the stairs. You stand there confused but don’t say anything.

+++

“All right does everyone have their backpacks and lunches?” Ashton asks before opening the front door. All your kids’ nod, Oliver saying “yep!”

“Okay let me get a picture!” Ashton lines all the kids up by height and snaps a few photos as a group and then individually. “My babies are all grown up.” You laugh, taking Ashton’s hand in yours.

“Okay, let’s go before daddy starts crying.”

The crew gathers in the car with only a slight fuss, the boys arguing who’s going to sit where. You buckle the twins up in their car seats before sliding into the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Ashton says pulling out of the driveway. “Gosh, I swear you become cornier by the day,” you joke with him.

The drive to the first stop wasn’t too long. Ethan slipped out of the car after giving you both a kiss on the cheek muttering out a “see you later”. You and Ash call out a “bye have a good day!”

The next two boys get dropped off as well without too much of a hassle. Ashton pulls into a parking space at the last elementary school. The two of you help the girls out of the car, Charlotte grabbing your hand and Amelia grabbing Ashton’s.

The four of you walk into the school, searching for the right classroom. Once you find it, you walk the girls into the semi-quiet room. The teacher walks her way up to the girls, kneeling down. “You must be the Irwin twins! Charlotte and Amelia right?” Charlotte starts babbling her head off while Amelia tucks herself into her daddy’s side.

“I’m Mrs.Penner, I’m very excited to have you guys in class!” Charlotte hugs you and Ashton before grabbing the teacher’s hand. Ashton bends down and picks up his littlest one. “Hey, there pretty girl. Pre-K is gonna be awesome! It’s only for a few hours okay? Mummy and daddy will be here at 12:30 to pick you and Charlotte up!” Amelia nods, snuggling into her dad.

Ashton puts her down after kissing her forehead. She turns to you, hugging your legs mostly. “Bye mummy.” She tells you, turning around to join her sister. “Bye baby.” You whisper back. Ashton wraps his arm around your waist, walking towards the car. Once inside, he high-fives you then pulls you in for a kiss. “We did it, Mrs.Irwin! And we only let out a few tears.”

“Way to go daddy-o!”

When you guys get home you immediately plop down onto the bed with your husband. Ashton sprawls out onto his stomach, one arm around your body. “Hey babe?” he asks. “What’s up?” You answer him, closing your eyes.

“Can we have another kid?”

You lay there for a moment before propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Ashton, we already have five. I don’t think we need any more,” trying to keep your voice calm. He sits up himself as well to look at you.

“But I really want another one. I think it would be great to have a huge family!”

“I don’t know Ash… it just doesn’t seem like a good time to have one.” He nods, crawling on top of you. “But baby, in nine months from now it will be almost June. The kids won’t be in school. It just seems like the perfect time to have one…” You nudge Ashton over so you’re the one on top of him.

“We’ll discuss it later babe. But right now we have three hours to kill before we go pick up the twins.” your voice dropping an octave, sliding your hands up his shirt to feel his abs. Ashton sits up to slide his shirt off and then taking yours off after. His hands rub and down your sides, causing goosebumps to form. “You’re so beautiful babe,” he says honestly. Before having kids you weren’t small and now five kids later, you’re definitely not small. You hadn’t lost all of the baby weight yet from the last pregnancy, due to being a stay-at-home mom.

“Thank you, Ash,” you whisper. He firmly grabs your pudgy waist and flips you onto the bed. He unhooks your bra, setting it aside as well as your panties. He smirks down at you as he tugs his underwear and shorts off. His hand comes to rub circles on your clit, creating a slow movement.

While he thumbs at your sensitive nub he places his head into your neck to suck softly on the exposed flesh. “A-ash,” you moan out. “Feel good darling?” he mumbles against you. “Yes, always so good.” He places a final kiss below your ear before pulling off. You are now dripping wet from him playing with your clit. “Relax baby girl.”

“Fuck..” you whined already needing more of him. Your husband has the power to string you apart like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. You feel Ashton thrust slowly into you, ecstasy building up in your stomach. “What a pretty girl you are,” he compliments you, quickening his pace. “Such a good girl taking me like this.” He leans down to suck on your nipples, the wetness of his tongue sliding around on your skin.

You groan, knowing you’re going to cum any moment now. It had been a while since you and Ash had some intimate time. Any time you were without kids the two of you always caught up with each other or took a nap. It’s always quick handjobs or sloppy blowjobs before the kids wake up.

You still yourself as Ashton slows his pace, dragging out the moment and all you can think about is how sweet his release will be. “Ashton please,” you beg but words are broken. “Please what?” he prompts. “Please go f-faster” you moan and your husband finally picks up his pace. With one hard thrust that has your vision dancing, Ashton is releasing a hot load inside of you, making you cum as well. He pulls out of you, caressing your cheeks, words of praise escaping his lips. He helps you get dressed and he slips his clothes on too. You are lying on your back with Ashton on his side next to you. “My pretty girl,” Ashton whispers and you beam back at him. “I love you.” He kisses your cheek, sliding underneath the covers, catching up on some sleep before you two go pick up the twins.

+++

The first month of school goes by smoothly. It is now a Saturday morning and you have family pictures planned. You usually do it during the fall but decided to do it this year with the weather being warm. Everyone is dressed in matching colors, you and the twins are wearing sundresses, the boys and Ashton wearing colored short-sleeved button-ups and jeans. As you’re putting on your last earring, Ashton sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"My beautiful wife. Still looking good even at thirty.”

You and Ashton had started your family young, with Ethan going to be eleven soon. You turn around and pecked his lips, grabbing your shoes on the way out of the bedroom. “Boys, let’s turn on the video games please.”

“But mummy-” Jaxon starts.

“Boys. The video games will be here when we get back, please listen to your mummy,” Ashton warns them lightly. The boys nod and turn the television and game console off, standing by the front door. Amelia grabs your hand, wanting to be picked up. “You’re so pwetty, mummy.” You smile and kiss her cheek. “You’re so pretty too, miss Amelia.” Ashton locks the front door behind everyone and helps the girls into their car seats. The car ride to the fairgrounds was thankfully short, Oliver becoming somewhat fussy.

“I think it’s really cool we’re doing carnival-themed pictures!” Ashton tells you after getting everyone out of the car.

“Yes! I’m very excited. It was time for a change.”

After meeting up with the photographer, an old friend of yours, she snaps a few photos of the boys and the girls. She takes some of just you and Ashton and then Ashton with the boys. After she snaps a few of you and the twins, she lines you up in front of the Ferris wheel for a family photo.

With everyone in position, she says “ 1, 2, 3, Y/N’s pregnant with twins!” the camera clicks.

Everyone’s heads whip in your direction. “Did she just say you’re pregnant with twins?” Ashton asks you, eyebrows furrowed. You nod excitedly as he picks you up to twirl you around. You can hear the photographer taking pictures of the precious moment. “How long have you known?!” his voice high and squealy.

You giggle as Ashton puts you down, giving you another kiss. “Just a few days. I called Lindy, our photographer, and told her and she came up with this idea!”

Charlotte comes up to you, tugging the end of your dress. “Mummy? What’s going on?”

Ashton smiles brightly and kneels down to meet her at eye level. “You’re going to have either little sisters or brothers, or one of each! Mummy has babies in her tummy!”

Amelia and Charlotte pat at your stomach while the boys surround you with a hug. After taking more photos, you and Ashton treat the kids to ice cream.

They all sit in the booth next to yours and Ashton’s, talking about names for their future siblings. Ashton smiles and leans over to you, wiping the chocolate ice cream off your chin.

“I have some pretty powerful sperm,” he whispers in your ear and plants a kiss on the side of your face.

Your hand meets the bottom of his ice cream cone, the cold cream hitting him in the face. Ethan looks over and says, “look at daddy!” The rest of the table laughs, smearing their own ice cream on their face. You chuckle, watching this perfect family of yours, knowing this is true happiness.

Taglist:

@hoodhoran

@suchalonelysunflower

[delldarling]

all that matters | merrick

chasing truth | chapter nine male faerie x gender/body neutral reader 7803 words lemon | teasing about relationship, communication about feelings and past relationships, kissing, nipping/mild biting, hair pulling, oral, hands, lube, penetrative sex, banter & talking during sex chapter index? or chapter eight?

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

For a moment or two, you can bury the knowledge of Faerie behind the facades you've come to know and care for. You've known Gar as nothing more than a handsome, nerdy human being for years, and Merrick? Sarcastic, awkward Merrick has been one of your closest friends over the past year and change. It's safe to say that you've spent ample time in their presence, trading jokes and building stories you know you'll share for years to come. 

That false screen over their true selves won’t ever last now though. You know what lies under their glamour, and you know them too well. You can't ignore the things you've seen. Neither you nor Merrick will ever doubt Gar's morality and honesty again. Not when it comes to those he cares for. Not after what he’s told you and Merrick about his Court. 

The car doors close in quick succession, one after the other, echoing down the dim, silent street. No one comes to investigate. No lights flicker behind the curtained windows, and no one cracks open their door. It's a relief, and yet a mild disappointment, knowing what you're all about to do.

“This still doesn’t sit particularly right with me,” you say softly, words barely more than a breath tickling your lower lip. You clutch your bag to your chest, fingertips digging into the seams to better distract yourself. Ditching the car and taking another makes sense, but just because it makes sense doesn’t mean you have to like it. Or approve of it.

Merrick can’t quite look you in the face, but Gar only shrugs. “It’s not the kindest option, not by a long shot, but we can’t travel on foot,” he says. Part of you wants to cringe because Gar doesn’t mean we, he means you. “Besides, we need to make it to where we’re staying in the next few hours, and this is the quickest way to tempt Roran closer without putting any of us in danger.”

You turn, eyeing the cars lining the street, and sigh. More stealing. It’s fairly silly that you’re worrying about this kind of crime, especially when you’ve already been riding around in a stolen car all day with a faerie assassin. You can’t stop the itch of the thought in the back of your brain, which probably means this is how you’re attempting to compartmentalize everything.

“I won’t even break the seatbelts this time,” Merrick tells you, cautiously placing his hand on your shoulder, fingers feather light. Relief eases the tension around his eyes when you don’t move away, and he sighs when you step into the circle of his arms. “If you don’t want to witness it,” he whispers, leaning his head against yours, “then I suggest you keep holding me. He’s right though. We can’t keep the same car, not after we clouded the whole thing with glamour.”

“I know,” you say against his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin against your cheek and temple. “I get it, the whole thing, but it’s not going to stop feeling wrong just because I know it’s necessary.”

Merrick breathes deep, and you can already tell that he’s going to keep trying to explain it away. “If we thought that-”

“You don’t need to defend yourself. We’ll get in the new car, we’ll head to our stop for the night and it’ll be fine. I just… Need to compartmentalize, and that’s rather new.” You sigh against his neck, the tickle of breath making him shiver. Merrick shifts, hands leaving your back and sliding up your shoulders until he can cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs stroke over your cheekbones, tender and careful, and you can’t think to do anything but blink up at him.

“Or I could distract you?” He offers, and bends his head down, covering your lips with his. A few hours ago and you would have been too tired, too on edge and hungry for food to let him try this, no matter how attracted you are to him. But everything with him, regardless of the fear and adrenaline, is still brand new and leaves your fingers aching, eager to keep him close. Even with all that you’ve learned, Merrick still feels the same, warm skin and calloused fingers, and it’s familiar and… comforting. When his mouth opens, breath hitching as you lean in against him, you find yourself wondering how eager he’s been for more of this. More of you.

Merrick puts his whole body into the kiss, pressed against you from chest to thigh, the taste of floral tea filling your senses as his fingertips carefully stroke behind your ears. He hums into your mouth when you roll your tongue and even though your eyes have fallen closed, you could almost swear that a brilliant light is beginning to shi—

“Hey!” Gar shouts hoarsely, and something hard bounces off of Merrick’s forehead. When the two of you stop kissing, eyes darting to the small item rolling slowly away from you, it turns out to be a small, wizened acorn, cap long lost. The two of you turn to look at Gar with startled expressions and find him trying to hold a fierce scowl on his lips. A muscle in his cheek jumps, betraying his amusement.

“I hope the both of you realize what happens every time that starts up! And if you do then I suggest you take a moment to reflect... You don’t,” Gar says after a moment, stalking closer with a steady frown now on his lips. “Merrick, you light up like a firefly every time you touch! You may as well be a torch in the middle of the street!”

Merrick’s mouth opens, attempting to disagree, but his lips curl and his nose wrinkles, like he’s tasted something off. 

“You do. I’m over here jimmying open a car door, trying to steal it, and suddenly there’s a blazing light in the middle of the road! Everyone on this street is probably going to come out here, and-” Gar freezes when you shush him, eyebrows rising. 

“Everyone is going to wake up if you’re shouting!” You snap, embarrassed but mostly tense because you still cannot quite believe you’re both being chastised for a handful of kisses. Both of the faeries grimace, shoulders hunching like they want the ground to swallow them whole. “I’m never going to say this again,” you mutter, already regretting your interruption, “but please: Go back to stealing the car, and Merrick and I will discuss his—his enthusiasm.” The frown on Gar’s face promptly vanishes.

“Enthusiasm,” he mutters, a goofy smile replacing his initial ire. He looks slyly at Merrick, but then holds up his hands in surrender when Merrick glares. “Right. Stealing. I’ll be quiet until it’s time to go.” He turns on his heel, heading back towards an old looking Datsun, a ridiculous little spring in his step. You’re fairly certain Merrick is going to make him pay for that later. 

“So,” you say, your heart suddenly ricocheting off of your ribcage before it settles back into place. “You… You glow?” You have to fight not to laugh, though Merrick notices straight off. His eyes narrow before he sucks a deep breath in through his mouth.

He tries, twice, to say something, but ends up shaking his head and closing his eyes, breathing out through his nose. “Apparently,” he finally settles on. “You make me happy, make me- forget myself. Or forget everything else. I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again, but I’ll be more conscious of it.”

“Is that a normal thing?” You can’t help asking, laughing quietly when his shoulders slump. 

“For my sake, I hope it isn’t. We should go though. I believe Gar is finishing up.” He nods his head in Gar’s direction, but you don’t even look towards your friend. Your eyes are caught on the collar of Merrick’s shirt, replaying everything Gar had confessed to earlier in the car. 

“Gar doesn’t lie,” you murmur. “You agreed, he can’t have been lying. After everything he’s been through.... Is there any way—”

Merrick presses his lips together until they’re nothing more than a slash across his face. “If what Gar says is the truth, then none of us should have lived the lives we have.” Merrick grits his teeth, hands growing loose in their grip on your arms and nods towards Gar again. “Back in the car. Roran might not be close yet, but it still isn’t safe. The last thing we need is humans with guns seeing us stealing vehicles.”

You have to agree with that, but you still can’t help wondering about it all in the ensuing silence. Gar worked as a Guard in the Court of Land for the entirety of his adult life. He refused the Queen’s direct orders to kill a disobeying gardener, but... The Fae aren’t supposed to be able to disobey their monarchs. After Gar’s confession, he and Merrick had shared a serious, silent conversation with only a look. One you had no hope of deciphering and while you know you can’t actually do anything about Gar’s situation, you can’t stop yourself from worrying about it. You turn it over and over in your mind as the three of you drive away, meager belongings in hand, and time slowly slips away from you. You barely notice when you leave the main roads behind, but when the car pulls to a stop in almost full darkness, you lift your eyes. Gar has parked in the driveway of a rather ornately decorated cabin, surrounded on all sides by tall trees. You glance back down the drive, but all it reveals is more forest. You must be out in the middle of nowhere.

“I thought we were heading to a hotel?” You ask, confused as Gar gets out, grabbing both his bag and your own before you can even think to take hold of it.. 

“I said I knew how to use the internet, not that I was going to head to a hotel.” He gestures to the surrounding woods, trees shading parts of the cabin from view. “Hotels, or motels even, have too many witnesses. Even if we lock down on any glamour use and I hide my hands and ears?” Gar makes one pointed look Merrick’s way, eyes roving from his face, to the way he carries himself. Both of them have always been lovely, and Gar definitely has his fair share of admirers—Em comes immediately to mind—but Merrick?

With his fair curls, and the utter disdain he directs at just about everyone who shows him attention that he doesn’t want, he’s always stood out. Never mind that he hides his ears, and the great tattoos of his wings, you were hardly the only person who had been unable to tear your eyes away from him every time you met. You’re still not sure how he managed to hide so much of himself for so long, especially after all the times he’d hung out on camping trips or went out for drinks. Yeah. Gar doesn’t have to say anything else. No matter where you go, there is going to be someone who won’t be able to forget Merrick’s face, or demeanor, or both.

You glance back at the cabin as Gar passes you by. The clean windows and paved driveway, and the careful tending done to the planter boxes hanging from the windows...

“Did you book us an Airbnb?” You can’t help asking, rushing to keep up when Merrick starts walking to the door too. 

Gar throws a sweet grin over his shoulder, cheek growing a shade darker with green. “Two bedrooms and everything. I’m going to leave you and Merrick to get settled,” he teases. You would like to kick him for that one, but you can’t actually deny that a few moments alone with Merrick will be pleasant. “And I’m going to grab food from a supermarket. I’ll be less... conspicuous by myself,” he says idly, like he’s still thinking everything through. He unlocks the door, not even bothering to set down the bags to do it, and then sweeps inside.

Gar is a whirlwind as he moves through the cabin, turning on lights and dropping your stuff in the small, but cozy main room. He gives you enough time to get through the door, checking out the small windows in the common area and the kitchen, and then turns to leave. He clasps Merrick’s shoulder once, nods his head at both of you, eyes already distant and then he’s gone, back through the still open door. You take a few steps after him, mouth opening to call out a goodbye, but he’s vanished. You blink, confused, because he didn’t even take the car, but then… Well, you knew already that the only reason they hadn’t left town on foot was because of you.

“That was weirdly intentional,” you mutter, quietly closing the door. For a moment, you hesitate, hand over the lock, mind racing. You can’t really ignore the fact that you don’t need any food. They’d brought plenty of things from the apartment in the array of bags that Merrick had brought in. Maybe he’s really just trying to give you and Merrick some time on your own? And he has the key, you remind yourself, finally locking the door. You turn, quietly wandering around the little cabin you’re going to be staying at for… who knows how long. You can feel Merrick’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t actually follow until you head into one of the bedrooms. Both of the rooms are medium sized, clean, and better than any standard motel, that’s for sure. The decor all has some kind of woodsy theme that makes you wrinkle your nose, but Gar might appreciate the irony of it, what with his tree affinity. We’re not X-Men, slips back into your head, making you smile wryly.

Merrick slides past you, groaning as he flops backwards onto the bed. His hat slips off of his head as he bounces, his curls falling in a picture perfect halo around his face. With no one else around, you’re not sure if his hair looks so bright because you don’t normally see him with his hat off, or if it’s because he’s beginning to glow in your presence. You bite back a smile.

“How are.. How are you holding up?” You ask, sitting so you can kick the knock-off keds down on the floor. You stay where you are at the lower corner, but after a moment you pull your legs up to cross them, noticing the storage space under the bed. The place is definitely lovely, but it’s still out in the middle of nowhere, and unknown. You wonder if anyone ever gets over wondering if something is underneath the bed, but you can’t bring yourself to get down and check. The momentary image of Roran waiting underneath has your heart speeding, though you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or shiver.

Merrick swallows, but summons up a smile for you. It’s not brilliant or blinding, but it’s real, if soft. “To be honest, I’m not actually sure?”

“You don’t have to know, Merrick.” You reach out, tugging a wrinkle in his trousers, just under his knee. “I’m asking if you need to talk about things. If you don’t want to—” You stop when Merrick shakes his head.

“I’m… I’m happy, because of you. Because you found out about me and you didn’t run. And... I’m hurting because of Roran.” His cheeks tense, which likely means he’s gritting his teeth again, trying to puzzle his way through the labyrinth of his own feelings.

You take a deep breath, unsure as to whether he’s going to be okay with the line of questioning you’re opening up, but you have to do it. It’s not even that you have to know, but Merrick very much looks like he needs to talk about it. He might not get another chance, not without Gar around, and you’re not sure he wants to do that, not after what you heard in the car.

“...Is Roran your ex?” You ask, fully expecting a wince and closed eyes, or for him to immediately look away. 

“Are you going to be surprising me like this forever?” He asks instead, laughing softly. You give him a small smile, but otherwise continue to stare. Human or Faerie, the question he asked isn’t actually one you can answer and keep truthful, and besides, you’re trying to get him to open up. You don’t want to push, or have him change the subject so quickly. “Not exactly,” he finally says.

“Merrick,” you softly chastise, because you know there’s more to the both of them than that. He sighs, brows furrowing, but finally begins to speak.

“We made no declarations. Roran had plenty of other lovers and I didn’t mind. I—I was never much interested in anyone, but I didn’t mind passing the time with Roran. My interest in him was sparse, at best.” He frowns, like he realizes how that sounds and pauses to lick his lips. “I cared about his well being and I enjoyed his company, especially as a friend, but my interest lay in my work. In fulfilling the orders the King gave me, and I never felt like I had anything left to truly give him. Not really.”

“Did he.. Think you were exclusive to him?” You ask, drawing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You can’t deny that it’s an awkward feeling, knowing this. But Merrick has been by your side for a year, and you knew he was keeping secrets. It doesn’t change your feelings, however strange it might be, finding out that he’s been with others, but the knowledge does put a different spin on what you witnessed back at your house. “I’m not condoning anything, his actions or—I’m just trying to understand where he’s coming from,” you rush to say, when Merrick looks slightly pained.

“Not exactly,” he says again, and truly grimaces when the words pass his lips. “He asked for my love, asked for any scrap of attention I would be willing to throw his way, and for a time it was easy. I always liked him, and giving him that much had never really been a problem. But before I came, I told him I wasn’t his. That my heart was my own.” Merrick sits up, and he looks torn, staring down at his empty hands. “I told him I wouldn’t die, and that, I think, is what he was initially angry about. He thought I’d died, and I never made the effort to correct that worry.” 

That you might be able to understand.

“Okay, that I might agree with,” you tell him softly, shrugging when he looks at you, dark eyes wide. “Do Faeries apologize? Because leaving someone who cares for you is one thing, but letting them think you’re dead is… a little much. Granted, we’ve been raised very differently, so I can’t actually speak for him.”

“I, yeah, I do owe him that,” Merrick agrees. “But my heart—it’s yours, now,” he tells you, voice low and fierce, and desperately earnest. His eyes search your face, trace your slowly smiling mouth and you’re suddenly very thankful that Gar decided to vacate the premises for a while. “I can’t change how I feel, though by Air I tried at first. But I don’t want to change how I feel about you. No matter what happens with Gar, or with Roran, I want to stay with you, if you’ll let me.”

Your chest feels as if it’s all tangled up in knots, nerves and worry utterly strangled by the sudden tidal wave of softness. “I want you to stay, too,” you say, eyes drifting to the leaf pattern on the bedspread. “Even if you do change your feelings, you’ve been in my life for a year now, and.. I see you in the future, you know? If it’s with me, then great, if it’s as friends? I can see that t-”

Merrick leans in close, your name on his lips, interrupting the awkward string of words spilling out of you. “Then I won’t be leaving,” he assures you, his curls crushed against your forehead. “Not for any of them. I can’t turn away from this, and I have to help Gar, but I won’t leave,” he whispers, watching you closely, like he’s afraid you might disagree. You reel him in for a kiss instead, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his lips tremble, but then he’s smiling against your mouth.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

It almost doesn’t make sense, knowing you’d spent hours in your bed with Merrick, exploring each other, mapping out every inch of each other’s flesh with fingers and mouths… And all of that was less than two days ago. While it had been happening, it had felt like the only thing that mattered, like you’d never forget it. Your heartbeat had been so loud in your head that you could barely hear yourself think beyond the next touch, the next kiss.  

After the day you’ve had, after everything that’s happened since you forced yourself to grab a few hours of rest in a stolen car, part of you wonders if there aren’t things you imagined. Did Merrick really like it when you touched his ears, or bit at the lobe of them and traced the cartilage with your tongue? Had he really made you fall to pieces so quickly on the kitchen counter, or had it only seemed that way, with adrenaline and hope and lust running high?

The first touch of his fingertips under your shirt is electric though, and the callous on his thumb catching at your hip makes you shiver. Regardless of the time you’d taken before, or how fast or slow things had actually happened, the chemistry between you is a heady thing. 

Merrick’s kiss is slow, and more than just the press or slide of his lips on yours. It’s the pause before he kisses you, the beat as he pulls away, mouth parted, his breath soft against your skin before his tongue touches your lower lip, and then his mouth closes, sucking slightly, like he’s trying to taste a drop of honey that he knows was left behind.

How are you supposed to keep quiet with such attention focused on you?

The first soft gasp has Merrick’s hands skimming over your middle, hand coming to rest on your heart, to gauge your pulse before he tries to get your shirt off of you. Part of you thinks you should tease him and struggle with the material—he’s always trying to undress you first, isn’t he? But you’re too eager to get his mouth back on yours, to curl your hand into the curls at the base of his skull and pull, exposing his throat for kissing. 

As soon as you do that, as soon as your fingers are tangled in his hair, Merrick glows. You don’t bother to point it out, you don’t really want to halt things at the moment, but you bite at his neck, wondering if any marks you leave will glow too.

His eyes close when you pull a little harder, his cheeks grow ruddy with color and then you let your own eyes unfocus, losing yourself in the feeling of him under your hands. He runs just slightly warmer, though you’re certain that could be your imagination. The heat of him against you feels wonderful though, and leaves you wanting more. You slide a hand along his back, reveling in the change of temperature, and sigh when he shudders under the sweep of your fingers.

He doesn’t pull away—his breath is coming faster as you suck at the skin of his neck—but Merrick’s hips shift, his legs settling to either side of yours and then he’s groaning, erection rutting against your thigh, trapped in his trousers.

“Harder,” he whispers, and for a second you’re not sure whether he means you to use your mouth or the hand in his hair, but a twitch of your wrist answers that question. His mouth falls open and you have to release his neck so you can lean back and take in the sight. It’s—It’s intoxicating, seeing how much you affect him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen someone so eager for you, and then his eyes open, wonderfully dark underneath those pale lashes and arousal grows so strong in you that the ache of it is painful.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice low as his eyes trace your lips. You have to ask, because you’re not sure what you want, if you want to feel his mouth again, or use your mouth on him, or maybe-

“Everything,” he whispers, because it’s the truth, and that’s all that matters to him.

You huff out a laugh, knowing you probably look punch-drunk off of his kisses, off of touching him at all. “Merrick, as wonderful as that sounds, we’re going to have to narrow things down.”

He barely looks sheepish, though you catch his eyes darting to your bag near the side of the bed. 

“I packed… Things?” He says, and his tone is so unsure that you want to pat his cheek. 

“I could have sworn I looked through that bag,” you mutter, fighting a smile, but Merrick sits up on your thighs and you let him go. He looks, well—He already has sex hair, with the way you’ve been yanking at it, and neither of you have actually gotten there. Gar is going to have a field day when he comes back.

“Did you check the side pocket?” Merrick asks, and he leans over the edge of the bed, pants riding low on his hips and exposing the dimple on his lower back. He tugs at the zipper, fumbling about and comes up with lube and condoms, and a handful of other things you’d kept in your bedside drawer. 

“Are all faeries this prepared?” You tease, smiling widely when he rolls his eyes. “Or am I just terribly lucky?”

He doesn’t respond, just hops off of you—and you can feel the difference now, as it’s cold without him—and pulls off his clothes like he has no sense of modesty. It’s always a rush, seeing him bare this way. The tattoos of his wings are still impressive, catching your eye and drawing your gaze over his shoulder and bicep as he turns to face you fully, but then your eyes lower and your breath quickens. 

“I can’t get enough of this,” Merrick murmurs and he looks so damned earnest, sitting down next to you on the bed and leaning over you so he can brace himself up on his forearms. “The way you look at me. For so long I thought I was imagining things-” And you do laugh when he says that.

“You thought you were?” You ask, reaching up to trace a fingertip over his cheekbone and down his jaw. “At first, I thought I had a chance, but then we were friends and... Honestly, I was sure you didn’t like anyone. I watched you reject person after person and was convinced that I’d only ever fooled myself. The other day when you joked about sharing a bed? I thought—”

Merrick frowns. “I was trying to be sly,” he murmurs, wincing when you raise an eyebrow. 

“It came across as a joke, after the way I’ve seen you talk to other people.”

“I didn’t mean it like-”

“I know,” you hasten to say, slipping your arms around him and tugging at his shoulders, wanting him closer. “I know that now,” you correct, pleased when he’s nose to nose with you. “But I didn’t then. That’s why I grabbed your hat and reacted like I did. Every time you said something even remotely similar, I convinced myself that I was only hearing what I wanted to hear. I was only hearing what I thought about when you weren’t around.”

“You fantasized about me?” Merrick asks, and he sounds entirely too gleeful about that. 

“...Did you fantasize about me?” You shoot back, knowing it will likely shut him up. 

“Yes,” he says instead, completely surprising you. “I… I felt like I shouldn’t have, but I kept thinking about the way you talked to me and I was lonely and—It was more than once,” he blurts with a sigh, and he looks like he hates the fact that he has to tell the truth. 

You just grin at him, feeling ridiculous, until Merrick shakes his head, and gets back to kissing you. Apparently he’s decided the time for talk is over. Or at least, talking about this subject is over. His kisses trail down your neck though, which you suppose means he’s decided on what he wants, and you can’t really complain. 

He uses tongue and teeth as he moves down your body, hands kneading gently at your thighs, stroking with fingertips and pressing with his thumbs. He lingers at your hip for a moment, sucking kisses into the skin there that you know are going to ache later, and then his hand is on you.

He definitely remembers everything he’d learned back at your place. He knows how to stroke, how much pressure to use, how to curl his fingers just so, and your thighs are starting to tense and his mouth isn’t even on you yet.

“Merrick,” you murmur, clutching at the blankets under your hands. You want to watch him, want to see his pink tongue lick—but you’re mildly distracted by that glow of his, shimmering softly over the walls. The light is on in the room, ceiling fixture bright, but there’s movement to the light on the walls that matches the rolling of his shoulders and the arch of his back.

His mouth closes over you, tongue flicking.

“Fuck,” you say immediately, tensing when he pauses, waiting for you to relax under his touch. He doesn’t use his teeth here, that’s for sure. There’s just his tongue at first, hot and wet, and his breath, soft against your bare skin. Then Merrick sucks until his cheeks have hollowed out, fingers curling just right and you have to bite your bottom lip, using the pain of your own teeth in your flesh to try and keep yourself from thrusting your hips up into his face.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop, leaving you whimpering and can’t help the little smirk he directs your way before he speaks. “You don’t have to be gentle with me,” he tells you, smirk growing a little wider. “You’ve seen some of what we can do. You can let go,” he assures you, hand still working you over, tongue sliding over his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of you on his own skin.

“Sure,” you say shakily, and then your eyes are nearly rolling into the back of your head as his mouth closes over you again. You’re fairly certain he’s doing it just to leave you breathless, to leave you speechless. “I’ll just—just go to town,” you mutter, rolling your hips, but only just. “You could probably, uh, could just pick me-”

Merrick stops using his hand on you, hooks his arms underneath your legs and lifts your hips as he kneels on the bed. He curls his arms around you to hold you in place, legs hanging over his shoulders, and rolls his tongue over you before he starts sucking again, making soft noises that are driving you crazy.

“Oh, oh, fuck, you’re going to-” Your hands are totally tangled in the blankets now, having dragged them with you as he lifted you partially off the bed. You’re going to lose it if he keeps up with this, blood rushing towards your head, leaving your face feeling hot and your thighs shaking against his ears.

You shout as you come, trying to arch your back, to get closer to his mouth and pull away from it, all at once, but Merrick is holding you too tightly. After a moment it gets to be too much and you’re gasping, panting and reaching out to try and slap at his knee, though you can’t quite reach. “Enough,” you say once, and Merrick slows, but he doesn’t pull his mouth off of you until you wail the word. For a second you think he’ll just drop your overstimulated self back to the bed, but Merrick is more careful than that. He lowers you down, revealing his messy face and heavy lidded eyes. His cock slides over your most sensitive parts as he sets your ass in his lap and carefully takes your legs off of his shoulders. Your calves feel like they won’t hold you up for a week. 

“I’m going to die,” you say, all dramatics, and then Merrick is chuckling, wiping at his lips. 

“I hardly think you will,” he says, confident in his words. “But if it was too much, I have no problem ceasing while we’re ahead. Soon enough, Gar will be back and...” He licks his lips again, frowning slightly as something occurs to him. “Did I glow, like Gar said earlier?” You can’t help laughing, but that only makes you move against him, leaving the both of you making soft, shocked noises.

“Would you—would you like to find out?” You ask, breathless when he presses himself between your legs. 

Merrick hesitates, nearly frowning for a moment before he settles on an easy, slightly awkward grin. 

“It’s a bit of a toss up,” he explains, eyes tracing you from head to toe. He lingers on the spots he’s kissed, on the way your mouth is parted, breath still coming heavy, like it’s being drawn up from the absolute depths of your lungs. “I want to do the things that could potentially lead to me glowing.” He can’t seem to stop himself from rolling his hips, from rutting in between your thighs and leaving himself trembling at the touch. “But do I want to know if I’m actually making a fool of myself?”

“Making a fool of yourself?” You repeat, laughing. “Is that what happens when faeries glow during sex? They’re considered fools?”

“Maybe not fools,” he amends, looking a little awkward as he tucks a few stray curls behind his pointed ears. “But… Horribly transparent. You can see how much you affect me, and leaving our emotions laid bare?”

That you can understand. Granted, you don’t think you’ll ever mind the fact that he shows just how much he wants you. That he’s incapable of hiding how he feels when you touch him. You desperately want to kiss him again, to return the gesture. You might not be able to glow, but you’re fairly certain anyone looking at you can see how you feel—especially now that you’ve both laid it all out in the open.

“Come here,” you urge, crooking a single finger.

He pauses, dark eyes darting between you and himself, and you see the thought cross his mind. He could try and press inside you, he wants it, but—Merrick leans over you, arm stretching until he’s braced himself next to your shoulder, as close as he can get without being inside you. His hair falls back into his face.

“Kiss me,” you say, stroking your hands along his sides and up and over his shoulders. You have to concentrate, keep yourself from getting distracted when the pads of your fingertips catch on the wing tattoos. They have such texture, and one day you’d love to trace those lines with your tongue, if he’ll let you.

Merrick falls back into kissing you like he’s never left. Tilts his head and slots his mouth along your lips, soft at first and then his tongue finds yours, sweet and warm. He starts grinding against you, making you shudder underneath him because you’re still oversensitive. You’re not sure you have the energy in you for more than lying here, for hooking your ankles behind his back as he works himself to completion inside you, but just the thought of that has your pulse speeding again.

When he pulls away from the kiss to breathe, you reach up to try and adjust his hair, tucking the curls back once more, but you don’t actually succeed in anything other than making it look messier. 

“Lube,” you remind him, when he seems plenty content to simply stare at your face, blinking slowly. He jumps at that, snatching at the pile of things he’d left on the bed when he’d stripped off his clothes and shakes his head once he has the bottle open, tilted over to spill the gel into his palm. 

“So you want to witness my shame?” He asks archly, and that tone of his is all an act. You wonder how many times you fell for it, how many times he said exactly what you were thinking and you wrote it off, purely because of his tone and-

No. There’s no need to dwell on it, not now. 

“I have witnessed it,” you say instead, breathing out slowly as you reach for his hand. You slide your fingers through the lube and then reach down to prep yourself, watching his face all the while. 

Merrick looks gutted. He swallows, eyes intent on your hand, on your fingers, stroking and pressing into you and he snaps the lube bottle closed. He tosses it over the edge of the bed, pressing himself close again so your hand brushes against him every time your fingers move. 

“At some point,” he says hoarsely, and your eyes get caught on the gel starting to drip over the edges of his hands. “I would like to watch this. Just this, but—” He glances at you, gauging your reaction and joins in. You’re shaking again, watching his face, feeling his fingers move in tandem with yours, but the feeling is a lot and eventually you let him take over. Merrick breathes out when you pull your hand away, eyes flicking up to meet yours, and licks his lips. “We’re on a bit of a deadline,” he murmurs, looking just a slight bit disappointed by that fact. 

“Then hurry up,” you tease him, though it’s a little hard when he’s touching you this way. When he’s making your thighs tremble all over again. “I want you at least once before we get interrupted.” Before Gar gets back, before you have to crash for the night because you’re exhausted, before—Before you have to get up tomorrow, and possibly get back on the road to who knows where. This would be the absolute worst time for Roran to find us, crosses your mind and your heart speeds for all the wrong reasons. 

“Noted,” Merrick says, breaking through your thoughts with a smug smile as he removes his fingers. The first stroke of him against you has you clenching your hands in the blankets again. Just the wet slide of his cock against you is enough: lust sweeps over you in a tidal wave, your thighs shifting like they’re trying to spread, even though they’re open already.

When he takes himself in hand though, when he finally presses into you? You lose a few moments, just enjoying the heat of him, the feeling of fullness. 

Then he’s glowing.

There’s no hiding it from him this time. His eyes aren’t closed, and his face isn’t pressed into your neck, or your body, intent on bringing you pleasure first. Merrick blinks when the glow is cast on the walls. It’s not enough to blaze through the window and the closed blinds, but he sees it now, and his face turns an absolutely lovely shade of pink.

He doesn’t stop his movements, or try to stop himself from glowing. He takes a couple quick breaths and thrusts into you, gasping when you tighten around him reflexively. 

Merrick doesn’t do things by halves. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t pound into you, chasing after his own pleasure, he builds it between you. It takes long enough that when you realize time has passed, you’re fairly sure that Gar must have returned, but—But Merrick’s hands are sliding over your body and his hips are pressed against the back of your thighs, and you don’t have time to think.

He whispers your name and his eyes are so heavy lidded, he looks like he could fall asleep where he is. You think the only reason his eyes are even open is to watch you, to see the look on your face every time he pulls back, only to slide back in, leaving you languid and terribly warm. You’re going to ache tomorrow.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you see that Merrick is clenching his jaw, trying to keep the slow rhythm he’s got going, but his hips are stuttering. You tug him close, angling your legs until they’re tight against his ass and he groans, being so deep inside you. 

“I want you,” you murmur. “Merrick, I-” But then he’s nearly shouting as he comes, burying his face in your shoulder as he shakes apart and you can hear the front door closing. Merrick doesn’t bother trying to quiet himself, just pants against you until he’s finished, until he can sit up on his own. The smile he directs your way is mildly embarrassed, but mostly smug, especially when his pulling out leaves your legs shaking.

“Have you decided yet?” You hear from the main room of the cabin, followed by bags being set on the small kitchen counter. 

You raise your eyebrows, wondering what exactly Gar means. Merrick’s shoulders tense up a little though, and you think back to what was happening before the two of you started this much needed romp in the sheets.

“...What does he mean?” You finally ask, sitting up slowly and glancing around the room. You’re going to need to clean up, and never have you wished more that Faerie glamour or magic came with a quick spell for messes. A quick snap of your fingers or the wiggle of a nose would be quiet and unobtrusive right now.

“Give us a moment,” Merrick calls out and gets off of the bed with a sigh. “I’ll—Let me help you, first,” he says, focusing on you after a moment. “Once we’re both clean we can discuss it.”

Gar gives you both the asked for privacy. He retreats to the other empty room so you and Merrick can dart into the shower. It’s barely big enough for the both of you, but the water is hot, and the pressure isn’t horrible. Once you’re both cleaned up and clothed, all three of you find yourselves back in the main room, sitting around the small pot belly stove, a fire crackling inside of it. 

“So?” You find yourself asking, when neither of them make a move to fill the silence. “What are we deciding?”

“Not we,” Gar says, lips twisting wryly. “Just Merrick.”

“What is Merrick deciding then?” You ask, exasperated with the non-answers. You know you’re going to have to deal with this regularly, now that you know what both of them are, but it’s still irksome. 

“I need to decide what I should do about Roran,” Merrick finally murmurs, letting you take his hand when you reach for it. “We always have the option to end his life, but I would rather not,” he says, directing his stare straight at Gar. “I want to convince him.”

Gar stares at Merrick, resigned, like he’d never expected another answer. Maybe he hadn’t. According to Faerie standards, or maybe just Gar’s standards, Merrick is apparently easy to read. “Then you’re going to have to figure out a way to draw him in that doesn’t involve cutting my head from my shoulders. He won’t be lured in by us just standing around again either. He’s going to be eager to get us apart, to take you hostage, if need be,” Gar reminds you, with a tip of his head in your direction. 

“If he finds me first-”

“I’m going to con—” Merrick starts, and then he’s knocked to the floor, with Gar straddling his prone body and holding a shaking hand over his mouth. You’re on your feet with a shout.

“Don’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep,” Gar bites out. Your heart is racing. You didn’t even see him move, he was just—there. “Don’t leave yourself open to even the possibility of lies. You know better, Merrick. You know better. Don’t let sentimentality cloud your decisions.”

“How about we calm down?” You ask, knowing you likely sound a little silly. You know they can’t lie, you know it does something to them, but it’s- You hadn’t quite realized it was all so serious. The lying. 

Gar gets off of Merrick and points a finger directly at you, still staring at his friend. “You have someone else to worry about now. Someone who cares, deeply. You don’t know if you’re going to convince Roran. Try, sure. But don’t—” Gar cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath, letting it out very, very slowly.

“I’m not tired,” he says after a moment. “But you two probably are. Get some rest, I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

That, more than anything else in the last hour, feels utterly surreal. Keeping watch is something that happens in fantasy novels, out in the wilderness, waiting for bandits. You don’t keep watch in an Airbnb, in modern times, waiting to see if a lonely Fae assassin shows up on the doorstep.

“That’s a good idea,” Merrick murmurs, and lets you pull him up to his feet. He still clasps his hand on Gar’s shoulder as he passes, like he doesn’t mind in the slightest that Gar just knocked him to the ground with nary a thought. They’d been close to the fire too, and worry makes the scene play out differently in your head. If Gar had taken one more step forward- You can’t let yourself get angry or defensive about this. They’re faeries and no matter how long you’ve known them, how much they care, you don’t know everything that’s at stake.

“I’ll come back after I grab a few hours rest,” Merrick promises, and escorts you back into the bedroom you’d both claimed as your own. You want to protest, to say you can take the next watch, but even with the Sight now, you’re not sure you would even have a chance of alerting them if someone like Roran showed up. What you’d witnessed in the square, and what you’d seen just now in the main room spelled it out all too well: Human eyes simply can’t move fast enough.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

...turn the page?

[squishneedsahero]

Not So Typical. Weird.

All or Nothing

Part 1 of 1

Word Count: 2930

Uhhh idk y'all I have cravings and just need to get them out. As always no smut cause we sex repulsed up in this house babes. Anyways this is a Loki x Bucky x Reader imagine. And also the reader is a werewolf.

Like I said it's a lot and idk but I needed it to be written

Weird. Weird was the only way you could describe your life. First off was the fact that you were a werewolf. Yes like a full on werewolf, a night with a full moon? You completely lost ability to control yourself, you had to chain yourself up to protect everyone in the vicinity. The rest of the time you were mostly fine, at night you could take your werewolf form by choice and control yourself, it was only nights with a full moon that left you deranged. The rest of the time you were just you, a person, with an unusually acute sense of smell and some other wolf like traits.

The nights you chained yourself were the worst. You'd fall asleep a good while before it got dark, always bored by the fact that you were stuck and didn't want anything you could tear to shreds near you. Then hours later you'd wake up, on the floor feeling worse than hungover, and have to slowly unravel the chains from around yourself, pick up anything you had broken, patch the inevitable holes in your wall and place the rug Mack over the torn up flooring.

At least, it had been this way for years, more recently you'd found a good use for all of this werewolf stuff. One night you'd gotten out of your chains and had been causing horror in the forest surrounding the small upstate town you lived in. You had caused enough problems that the Avengers were called in to keep you from murdering anyone.

Finally when you changed back to yourself and woke up they talked it out with you. It wasn't any different to them than Hulk getting out of control, but it wasn't safe for you to keep living in your ruined apartment where no one could keep an eye on you on those nights. That was how you'd found yourself forced to move into the Avengers compound.

It wasn't all bad, you had a secure room you could tear up on nights of the full moon, and plenty of attractive heroes to spend time with. For a while you lived there as more of a guest than prisoner until at some point some idiots decided to attack the compound. That's when you finally revealed you could make controlled changes other nights. You had been an amazing addition to their team and that was how you'd become an avenger a couple years prior.

Your life had only gotten better from there, it was like you had a family. You hadn't had one of those before, moving from foster home to foster home until you were 16, when you had somehow become a werewolf. You had no idea if you'd been but or if it was just in your genes and finally activated but it was what it was. You'd run for it at that point, able to survive on your own until you were 18, thanks to the fact that being part wolf allowed you to just live in the forest and not have to worry so much about what you ate.

Your life was going smoothly up until about a year ago. That was when, a few weeks apart some new members joined the team.

First there was Loki, he hadn't paid you any attention until that first night you transformed when he was around. Something about the way you couldn't control your actions in that form and the fact that you could change, it fascinated him. He had slowly begun to spend more time with you, asking questions about your abilities and so on. It was through all of this that you had grown close to him, probably the only person he was close too and would let get close to him.

The second one to come was Bucky, Steve's childhood friend. He had been rescued from Hydra and rehabilitated, you'd just been being friendly, making sure he was comfortable in the compound since you'd been in that spot a few years prior. The both of you had become fast friends, having a similar sense of humor and enjoying laughing at Steve.

The three of you would hang out together, watch movies as you caught the both of them up on earth culture that they'd have no idea about. It was behind your back during these times of all of you hanging out that Loki and Bucky would be glaring at each other, making rude comments to each other when you left the room and competing for your attention.

The two were good at hiding it from you, but not the others, especially not Thor and Steve. Thor and Loki were brothers, and Bucky and Steve might as well have been brothers. They could easily see how they would restrain themselves from lashing out at each other in your presence, forcing themselves to simple glares and stealing your attention from the other.

This competition made it awkward for anyone who was in the room with the two of them when you weren't there as well. Which had lead to the three of you spending more time alone as no one wanted to get in between the two when you weren't there.

It went on for months, and you were oblivious, until, one night with a full moon. You'd warned them that you wouldn't be able to join them that evening as you needed to lock yourself up. It was an especially rough night for you, and the two idiots hadn't been able to keep themselves away and listen to your cries from outside the cell.

They'd both burst in, wanting to comfort you, and you unable to control your actions attacked them. You'd always been starving those nights, ravenous for any game you could hunt down. Human or not it made no difference to you, it was as you lunged that they realized their mistake. They had to work together to restrain you, leading to the three of you laying on the floor of the cell together as they held you.

You had struggled all night, and as always when you changed back you instantly passed out from exhaustion. The two were also tired out from having to hold you down all night to prevent themselves from dying. It was then and there that they had silently agreed that they would work together to protect you at all costs. They didn't get up, and neither did you, that day the padded floor was your bed.

When you woke up the two of them were wrapped around you, fast asleep. You were trapped in their embrace, since you were only human when you weren't a wolf and the two of them had super strength. They had slept for a while longer, keeping you trapped there for long enough to come to the realization that they'd been competing for your attention for months.

When they did wake up and realized that they were cuddling not only you but also each other they jumped away from the embrace. Leaving you to suddenly flop to the floor since you'd been being supported by the two men. You groaned and sat up to stretch, looking at the both of them as they, embarrassedly, avoided eye contact.

"I hope the both of you know you're idiots. I'm going to have to make sure the others keep you out of here from now on, I don't want to hurt you."

Bucky mutters something about it being worth it to keep you comfortable.

"I'm Asgardian, even in your wolf form you cannot harm me," Loki protests.

Bucky laughs, "yeah, keep telling yourself that. I'm pretty sure she would have torn you to shreds had I not also been here."

You sigh and shake your head as you get up off the floor, letting yourself out to go find something to eat and leaving them where they were on the floor.

They must have figured something out that night, come so some sort of conclusion about their shared feelings for you and wanting to keep you out of harms way. The two approached you while you were eating practically everything you could find in the kitchen. They both then and there admitted their feelings, and asked you to choose, they didn't want to be fighting over you anymore.

You'd silently looked at the both of them as you finished your food, not giving a response after you'd gotten up to get your second cup of coffee. "I'm not choosing," you state simply, and when they both open their mouths you continue before they can interject. "You two are my best friends, and I've realized I have been oblivious to both of your advances. But you cannot make me choose between the two of you, I won't loose a friendship over this... plus I don't think I could choose if my life depended on it."

They were both completely confused at this point, not having a single clue where you were going with this.

"Look," you say firmly, "both of you like me. I like both of you. I'm not loosing my best friendships over something as dumb as choosing one man over another." You pause, deciding to just say what you were thinking, "if the two of you can overcome your differences the three of us could be together. All or nothing. If you cannot do this then I suggest the both of you get over it and know we will be nothing more than friends. I'm going to go shower and get changed and the two of you can come find me when you've talked it out."

With that you walked out of the kitchen and to your bedroom, leaving them to stare at your back and then each other in shock. You go and take a nice long shower that is much needed, sure, you were worried about how they'd react. If they'd both start ignoring you and you'd loose those friendships after all that, or if maybe the three of you could be something more together. Sure you had thought about it before that point but you'd been oblivious to their advances and you hadn't wanted to start a love triangle. But then, as you were lying on the floor in both of their arms you'd come to the realization, if they were willing to give it a try why couldn't you all be together.

It would keep you from having to choose, hopefully keep from jealousy and maybe the two could see they didn't need to fight over your attention. But who knows, maybe the idea disgusted them, and would just scare them away. You shake the thoughts from your mind and relax the rest of the time you're in the shower.

You exited your bathroom fully dressed, with a towel in your face as you dried your hair. It wasn't until you dropped your towel in the laundry basket and turned around that you saw both Bucky and Loki standing awkwardly in your room waiting for you.

"So?" Is all you can bring yourself to ask, the courage you had last time you'd faced them was all but gone.

They share a glance with each other then look back at you, "we're willing to give it a go, for you," Bucky says.

"Yes, we are," Loki confirms. "It was rude of us to try and make you choose, we have no right to demand that of you, and we would like to apologize."

"We aren't exactly sure how it'll work out... seeing as we haven't done anything but see each other as competition but we'll give it a shot to make you happy," Bucky concludes for the two men.

You can't stop the huge grin that breaks out across your face as they speak, running over and hugging them both tightly as soon as they finish. "Thank you- thank you for understanding-" you look at the two, who only have their arms around you, but that's fine.

You look at them, wanting to kiss the both of them, but how to go about that without jealousy with who you kiss first you had no idea so you just saved that problem for later. "I'm still exhausted from last night... I'm going to take a nap, would you like to join me?"

They both agree to it, Bucky had changed since you'd shredded his clothes the night before. Loki had used magic at some point to either protect or change his clothes so he was already good to go. The three of you climb into your bed and it's comfortable, one of them on either side of you, and you expect to fall asleep quickly.

Things don't always life up to your expectations though. The two men were obviously still tired as well and they fell asleep before you. Even in their sleep they were fighting over you as though you were a blanket they had to share.

It was kind of cute and made your heart flutter, but you'd never be able to sleep like this. You aren't quite sure how you manage it but you get them to come closer together, throwing a leg over Bucky and using his chest as a pillow while Loki acted as your big spoon. After you get into this position the two seem content, and finally stop tugging you back and forth, and you fall asleep in their arms.

This cuddly tug of war had gone on for months. But slowly the two realized that the other wasn't so bad. There was less bickering and they even seemed to enjoy the other's company at some moments. Everyone noticed and wondered how the hell you'd tamed the two.

You kept the relationship quiet, not mentioning it to anyone since it was still kind of just a trial period. You had no idea how long they'd be able to stand this situation so you were going to make the most of it. At least that was the plan until one day things just kind of flipped. Suddenly you'd enter a room and they wouldn't be sitting apart as they waited for you, but they'd be sitting next to each other, sometimes even hugging. It all became real when you'd walked in for one of your planned cuddle sessions after a night of a full moon, to find the two men not only waiting on your bed for you but they had started the kissing without you! Needless to say after you arrived all of you had some fun that day despite your exhaustion.

Yet, things were quiet about the three of you being together. Sure they had ideas of what might be happening but no one had any proof. At least they didn't until one night the three of you were watching a movie together and had fallen asleep towards the end. The next morning they'd found you three on the couch, with Loki and you sandwiching Bucky between you. Loki's tall slender form was the big spoon, with one arm clearly wrapped around Bucky's waist. Then there was you, somehow wrapped around the two men, a leg thrown over theirs arms around their shoulders and hands in their hair. Bucky had his arms tightly around you, holding you to his chest and Loki's other hand had found it's way to act as your pillow.

After this, there were no doubts, money might have been exchanged to settle bets. But also the three of you never heard the end of it.

"You three should get a room."

"Aww it's cute Bucky and Loki decided to let you be their teddy bear."

"So which one do you love more?"

That last question was the first and last time anyone tried to ask that. The death glares from you and Bucky, plus the fact you had both whispered something to Loki and he'd glared for a moment longer before a mischievous smile flashed across his face. Yeah, there was still plenty of teasing but none of them made comments like that anymore. Who knows what you and Bucky would have let Loki do if they had.

The three of you are still practically inseparable, you had always been close to each other before this started but now Bucky and Loki were close as well. Things were perfect, except for the fact that they still tried to sit with you through the full moon nights. You'd had to make absolutely sure with Tony that neither of them could get into that room. Magic, technology and everything was put into preventing it. You tried to convince them that it wouldn't be so bad to just cuddle each other on the nights you could be there. They didn't like it, and would whine when you had to leave them but the promise of plenty of cuddles after while you recovered your energy as enough to keep them from finding a way to break into the cell.

So yeah, things were weird, but a good weird. You, your two boyfriends who kissed you and each other. It wasn't normal or typical but the three of you were happy. Misfits who had hurt people in their lives and come to regret it, who'd found each other and helped each other be better. All of you had bad nights with nightmares but with two people who loved you to hold you as each of you went through it, things became bearable. Things were far from perfect but they were your not normal, not typical weird that to you was everything.